I'm Going Through Changes
Progress report from the wasteland of the real
On Sunday, it will have been a year since I inaugurated this little venture with an introductory post. Since then, I’ve managed to put together a whopping(?) fifteen pieces covering twelve feature films, a short film, an album, a critical band history disguised as an album anniversary piece, and a year-end list which covered an additional twenty-eight films. I also managed to sneak in two short stories, something I hope to return to in the future. Not bad, all things considered. And they say girls with brown hair can’t write Substacks.
What’s perhaps most striking about reading that first post a year on is just how little I’ve managed to stick with the one specific plan I originally laid out, namely the “monthly” In Review pieces. Originally intended as a paid subscriber-only privilege — remarkably, my commitment to the almighty paywall faltered a mere two In Review posts in — they have not only been put on equal footing with the rest of the ramblings I churn out, but have also gone from “monthly” to “sporadic,” the last one having been published in November. Instead, I’ve recently set my sights on the humble three-paragraph capsule review, a pleasure I indulge in through the newly minted Electric Trio column. (For what it’s worth, I do plan on continuing with the In Review posts.) It remains to be seen what will end up taking me off my current course — maybe I’ll pivot to reviewing perfume via haiku. I guess we’ll find out in a year.
As rewarding as this avenue has proven itself to be, it’s impossible to ignore that things aren’t exactly looking great in the world of writing/criticism/journalism (which is to say nothing of the world at large), with publication after publication either shuttering completely or, possibly worse, gradually foregoing writers in favor of polluting the world with AI-generated listicles — piddling “content” not designed to inform, let alone enrich (the venture capitalist vultures currently running the show couldn’t care less), but to keep people on the drip in perpetuity. Personally, I think the fact that we are currently in the process of phasing out literacy amongst the coming generations so that a bunch of rich bozos can squeeze a few extra bucks of ad revenue out of a dying internet before they move on to the next thing they can suck dry, warrants some worry — a feeling evidently not shared by anyone with the power to do something about it.
But as Aristotle once said, “Anybody can become angry — that is easy,” which is why I have decided, in lieu of endless carping, to contribute my drop to the proverbial bucket by opening up my newsletter to other writers. Since I began my journey into criticism in 2022, I’ve had the pleasure of getting acquainted with a lot of fantastic writers and critics who, in a just world, would be making an honest living off the work they so reliably put out. However, since writing opportunities are evaporating by the day and whatever work there is is often done for free, they are forced to juggle their passion with one or more day jobs that they may or may not take any pleasure in doing.
There is a broader point to be made about the devaluation of art and criticism in the age of “content” — I’ve recently learned that people have begun heading to TikTok for literary criticism, a development too bleak to ponder for too long — and only a culture primed by a decades-long semi-stagnation could ever be at risk of having a thing as grotesque (and let’s be honest, extremely sinister) as AI supplant human creativity. (For a glimpse at where current developments are taking the world of genre fiction, for instance, look no further than this piece.) It shouldn’t be neglected that the decline of criticism isn’t a byproduct of this, it’s a prerequisite.
To get back on track, though, I’m aware that my minuscule newsletter can’t reverse this or any other societal trend — as much as it is “mine,” Electric Dreams is also very much at the mercy of a different set of tech overlords and their financiers, but that’s its own post — and even my willingness to pay people for their contributions will hardly make a dent as life becomes increasingly unaffordable. Still, maybe there is value in howling at the moon — small gestures have a habit of accumulating. And if this gesture can’t turn the tide, maybe it will inspire something, that will inspire something, that will inspire something, that will. Or maybe not. Perhaps these are nothing but the dying breaths of genuine cultural production before we’re all steamrolled by the Content Machine.
My financial goals for this newsletter were modest: “I do hope that my latest endeavor will at least net me the odd hot meal, a few non-alcoholic beers, or maybe even allow for a little biannual bookstore splurge,” as a starry-eyed, one-year-younger me so elegantly put it. Thanks to all the wonderful people who have decided to chip in, I’ve been lucky enough to reach that goal — now the time feels right to invest in something other than myself. After all, haven’t I eaten enough hot meals, drunk enough non-alcoholic beers?
Since making the announcement on Twitter, numerous people have reached out with their pitches or stated their desire to pitch an idea at some point in the future and the fact that so many are willing (some are even eager, I dare say) to work with me is very flattering, though it could simply be a sign of the desperate times writers are living through that they will jump at the chance to be featured in a niche internet publication such as this. The prospect of being paid is likely part of it. But what has made this all so worthwhile (and worth reading, I hope) is the spontaneous joy that comes from covering whatever interests me at any given moment, far removed from release schedules, anniversaries, and special screenings at hip theaters I don’t have access to because I don’t live in New York or Los Angeles, and I assume this to be part of the allure for most potential contributors as well — judging from the pitches that have made their way to me so far, at least, it is.
So! Moving forward, keep your eye on the byline as I occasionally slip into the less glamorous, though no less substantial, role of editor, while allowing others and their ideas, tastes, and eccentricities to shine. As for my own writing plans, I currently have at least three ideas for short stories and a hard drive (as well as a fun-size DVD and BluRay collection) filled with hard-to-come-by objects that could easily make for at least thirty more Electric Trio posts. I have no concrete plans beyond that, though it undoubtedly won’t be long until I come across some, by all conventional metrics, objectionable creative work that I will feel compelled to spend 2,000 words defending as “unfairly maligned,” as is my custom.
Before I conclude, let me stress that although film criticism forms something of a foundation for what I’ve been trying to do here, I’d like for Electric Dreams to eventually flourish into a forum where “things can happen,” where criticism of all kinds can rub elbows with fiction, poetry, interviews, politics, history, sports, spirituality, philosophy, and maybe the odd travelogue, just as it has a mind. Someday I might even be able to pull a Sports Illustrated and send a novelist to their first hockey game, but until that happens, I will have to coast on the relationships I’ve forged and the generosity my ambitions have been met with. The more I think about it, the more I realize that there are worse spots to be in.
Though I look forward to hosting other people’s words, it’s unlikely that I will agree with every close reading and every political aside that will end up being included in this domain — turns out a lot of people with an interest in writing are godless communists with laissez-faire attitudes towards sex and property destruction, attitudes fundamentally at odds with my deep commitment to chastity and unshakable belief in the free market — and there’s a good chance that I’ll be unable to grasp some of the finer points being made by the brilliant people who I will find myself collaborating with. I am but a simple autodidact with an acute awareness of the limits of his knowledge and mild anxiety about just how much lies outside of it.
Be that as it may, I look forward to this next chapter and as I write these words, I’m overcome with an immense gratitude that there are people in the world — all over the world, in fact — who care at all about what I have to say. What a blessing it is to have an audience. Thank you all for reading.