One of the many things I disliked about working for a family newspaper was how fragile the editors were to reader criticism. If one person complained about the tiniest thing in a news story I’d written, I’d be dragged into the city editor’s office and raked over the coals about it.
They’d print a correction, clarification or retraction – even if it wasn’t warranted.
The editors’ temerity eventually seeped into my reporting and writing. If I thought someone would complain about the way I wrote a story or the subject matter, I would sanitize it to the maximum degree. Why? I needed the job to eat and stuff.
For the past 13 years I’ve been free of the corporate mamby-pamby poopy-butt stuff. It took awhile for the poison to pass through my system entirely (I’d been gagging on it for 21 years). And the result of this cleansing is my substack “The American Peasant.”
My writing for “The American Peasant” is the way I wrote when I was fresh out of journalism school. I was unafraid of speaking my mind (or perhaps too stupid to not be afraid of speaking my mind). I wrote like I talk and how I think.
Why do I keep that writing sequestered on the substack? Good question.
Recently we started running a few advertisements for “The American Peasant.” The ad (above) is goofy (it looks like I’m trying to sell a tape dispenser). And the reaction has been about what I expected.
Omar P. Bounds III: “Just because you can do some woodworking doesn’t mean you can’t be an ahole.”
Allison Loxsom: “I might have considered buying this. I’ll get something from a craftsman who doesn’t need to be vulgar to be cheeky.”
For me, this means the ad is working. These people wouldn’t like the substack and would be horrified if they subscribed. The language there is direct and unapologetic. The specific words are sometimes crass (and justified). And the topics are not what you’ll find in magazines or books. But they are things I’ve wanted to get off my chest for a long time.
Here’s a free example: People Take Warning: Your favorite toolmaker can disappear.
Some readers have asked: Why not put this stuff on the Lost Art Press blog? It’s too personal. And I don’t want this stuff to appear in the same space as writing from our authors. That’s not fair to them.
So if you’ve ever wondered what I *really* think about ________….. This is where you’ll find it.
A free subscription allows you to read about half the posts. It’s a good way to try things out and see if it’s right for you. “The American Peasant” is not for everyone, but it appears to be for a lot of people (“The American Peasant” has just as many subscribers as this blog.)
— Christopher <bleeping> Schwarz