Read The Maximalist Essays on Substack, a serial by yours truly
/You may have noticed mention of The Maximalist Essays in my portfolio. Or maybe you didn’t.
You see, I actually sort of snuck these essays into my portfolio as a work-in-progress for later this year, maybe next. But then something hit me, and I realized I needed to make like Charles Dickens and begin posting my work online, free-of-charge, completely opening myself up to the risk of plagiarism, if I wanted to make my work available to people, which is as it turns out, what matters to me most. So I quietly then not-so-quietly announced my first serial book, The Maximalist Essays on Substack.
However, as you’ll see in my intro on The Maximalist Essays, I have deep-rooted, semi-illogical fear of plagiarism (if that wasn’t already way-too-clear). BUT—I’ve seen people like the Catholic Feminist and John McWhorter publishing serial books on Substack, so I decided it felt like a safe space to share my work on something that felt more “legit” than my small website, and also I don’t feel like I’m risking someone steals ideas from my current book (since I’m still keeping all of that work strictly private).
So, what’s the point of emwelsh.com?
Truth. But there’s a lot to see here!
I’ll still be posting random musings here and updates on my short stories. As you may have seen in my Instagram announcement, I actually lost my email list from a few years back, so I’m using Substack as a way to test out people’s interest, and perhaps if I build a following there I can revert back to my old newsletter. For now, I like how easy it is to just post, and it blasts it out to whoever! And after all, my newsletter content is completely different now than it was several years ago, so it’s a good way for me to see if reading my short little essays is exciting to anyone at all.
That all said, since I don’t have a newsletter anymore I am TERRIBLE about responding to comments on this site + responding to emails. So, if you have a question for me or anything you wish to know, your best bet (for now) is on Instagram. It’s possible I still may miss your question or DM at first, but it’s still arguably the best route to get a quick response from me.
What do I do if I want to read The Maximalist Essays?
This one’s easy! All you need to do is subscribe to me on Substack. For the time being (and to avoid duplicative content) that’s the only place I’ll share this serial book, where it’s 100% free. I may in the future share it all on this website as well, but in the meantime, your best bet is to follow me there if you want to read the book. This website will still be reserved for:
random thoughts I have
announcements (like this one!)
updates on my short story collection (slow-going, but still happening!)
preserving old writing advice I dished out between 2016–2018.
Otherwise, here is a preview of the Maximalist Essays! Make sure to subscribe on Substack for the latest:
Books, novels, cookbooks, scripts, coffee table, poetry, essays, Dutch ovens, Korean serums, velvet headbands, zero-proof aperitifs, Pilot G-2 .7 mm pens, Mexican talavera, measuring spoons, sunscreen, coconut floss, matchboxes, fountain pens, American denim, thick blankets, balmy candles, musky essential oils, puzzles, and words, words, words.
Most people have interesting lives. I have interesting things.
Whenever I’ve had one of something, I’ve wanted it all. It never mattered if it was rare or worth collecting. There’s always been a euphoric energy when I could look at something, touch it, and call it “mine.” And if I could build out the family and genealogy of an object, trace the variants in a full collection of pottery, the thousands of words from a favorite author, or line up a collection of art house films so I could tilt my head and admire the spines, I would.
And I’d do it again, and again, and again for everything else.
Mindfulness gurus, minimalists, and more would have me steering the other way. But I think there is something to be treasured in the everyday objects and abstractions we collect. The maximalists of life are littered with thousands of little stories, clinking together every time one touches them. Here we have a battered cookbook I’ve cooked every recipe in, a dress from a designer whose philosophy on femininity sparked a celebratory indulgence in pink, an essential oil that reeks of my anxiety flying across the ocean to Japan.
The power of kinesis is not to be underestimated. Look around you, pick up a beautiful serum, a worn out sweater, your bedside vitamins. What do they tell you about who you are? Shake them up, rattle them in your ear, and listen to the stories they have to tell.
That’s what I’ll be doing, anyway.
Thank you again to all my fellow readers, whether you’ve been a fan since 2016 or you’re brand new! I wouldn’t be here without you!
