Every Bloom Has Its Dirt

So today, The Bone Garden finally went live — my long-promised, long-mysterious second Substack on the occult, divination, and esoteric topics. The gate’s open, the soil’s turned, and there’s officially something growing there (besides my anxiety about starting it, that is).

It feels strange and wonderful in the best way, kind of like throwing open a door to a room I built a long time ago and realizing the candles have been burning the whole time.

Why The Bone Garden Exists

I’ve had this idea rattling around in my skull for a very long time. A place for all the spiritual, mythic, and slightly unhinged parts of my creative and intellectual life to breathe without having to share elbow room with SEO keywords or invoices.

My other publications have always been my public face, focusing on the usual topics — the writing life, the freelancing journey, the gentle chaos of making art for a living. It’s daylight energy. Coffee and deadlines.

But The Bone Garden? That’s a lot more like the moonlight energy nobody really sees, except maybe for Seth. It’s the philosophy, the mysticism, and the unfiltered strangeness from my life that doesn’t always fit anywhere else.

I started it because I wanted somewhere to talk about the work behind the work beneath the work — the spiritual engine that keeps everything else alive — because I've never talked about that much of anywhere beyond the occasional quip on Facebook or Threads. It's the part that keeps humming even on bad days when I'm not sure why I'm even still getting out of bed in the morning.

Also, I just really like the idea of an online ghostly garden filled with strange blooming things, and 'tis the season. Branding matters.

The Launch That Wasn't a Launch

You’d think publishing the first post would’ve felt like a big triumphant "ta-da!" moment. Trumpets! Confetti! A choir of approving ancestors! Instead, it was just quiet and grounded, like so many things I do these days.

I'm usually not very good at that — starting things with purpose, planning a felicitous launch date at some point in the future, and working on ideas properly behind the scenes for a while in the interim. (If memory serves, I first chose October's new moon for a launch date way back in June or July sometime.)

That said, I don't picture The Bone Garden becoming a content factory moving forward, because I honestly hate that shit. I probably won't even be marketing it worth a damn, as I feel projects like these are better left to be discovered through dedicated digging. As with a lot of things to do with occult practices, I want the people who read it to do so because they found their own way there.

Some Lessons to Carry Forward

Because I can’t resist turning my random existential musings into advice columns, here’s what I’ve learned from launching a big, vulnerable creative project while still trying to pay the bills and remain a mostly functional human. Maybe you can relate (or will one day).

Start before you feel ready

You’ll never hit the mythical “right moment” to start something new, especially if it's also something very important to tyou. There’s just “right now.” Don't overthink it to the point where you psych yourself out, but do know that the fence isn't going to paint itself.

Don't wait for the trumpet fanfare

New beginnings rarely feel cinematic. Sometimes they’re just a soft “click” in your chest — a tiny feeling of "yes, this." I've learned to let that be good enough. Genuine trumpets are pretty scarce in my life, especially as I get older.

Perfectionism is just control wearing a fake moustache

You can plan forever and still be ambushed by spilled oracle cards (like me this morning), typos, or cosmic irony. Publish anyway. The beauty’s in the aliveness and the mess that happens in between steps, not the polish.

Do it for love, not logistics

Saying there’s no guarantee of fame, income, or algorithmic reward when you start projects like this is an understatement. In fact, you'll be lucky to have even a couple of readers/listeners/followers at first.

I've had to learn how to not really care and do the work for other reasons. The readers usually come later, long after I've stopped caring whether they ever show up.

Let every project teach you how to do the next one

Don't think of past attempts to get a project going as false starts or failures. It's much better seen as training data. Every blog, every post, every “oops” prepared you for this. (Even the “oops” posts. Especially those.)

If You're Building Something, Too

Maybe you’ve got your own version of a Bone Garden waiting — a project that’s been whispering in your ear, half-formed, for months (or years) now. Maybe you keep saying “someday” because you think you need a better plan, or more time, or divine permission.

Consider this your permission slip to start small. You can start messy, too. You can start today. The world doesn’t need another perfect brand. (Seriously, I'm so tired of those.) It needs more living ones that actually know how to bleed, breathe, and laugh.

So go ahead. Turn your half-finished idea into a seed. Drop your metaphorical tasseomancy cards all over the floor and call it a reading. Light the candle, open the doc, and make something that feels like you.

If you’re lucky, it’ll change you as much as it potentially changes the people who find it someday.