Being the 47th edition of Assorted Nonsense, the official newsletter of Donovan Street Press Inc.
2024 is winding down and I am reflecting on the past and the future.
I posted the first edition of this Substack newsletter on January 13th of this year. I sent it to 37 subscribers that I’d imported from another newsletter service. Assorted Nonsense hasn’t exactly exploded in popularity since then but it’s sitting comfortably at 89 subscribers today (and 163 followers, though I’m still not sure the significance of followers on Substack).
I tried to send one newsletter a week, which I mostly enjoyed doing, but that became challenging as the year went on, for a couple of reasons. I’d managed to load myself up pretty good this year in terms of obligations; also, it’s starting to become starkly apparent that I’m not thirty anymore, or even fifty.
Producing one Substack newsletter a week, doing my own writing, producing a weekly podcast, trying to grow a small indie press, editing/publishing three novels for DSP Inc., doing Karate, family obligations, it all kinda adds up. I’d like to squeeze more music in there, but there’s no time. People would say, “But you’re retired! You must have lots of time.”
I still don’t really know how to answer that. Yes, I’m retired from the CBC, but I’m still working full time; just on my own stuff. Which doesn’t happen to be very lucrative at the moment, so it doesn’t “look” like real work, I guess. And I don’t want to be retired. I have no interest in just sitting around. I have tons I’d like to accomplish. Books to write and publish, a company to grow. Music to make.
(The correct answer, I think, is that yes, I’m retired from the CBC, but not from working.)
And the business about not being 30 anymore (I’ll be 60 this coming March). I’m probably in denial about my age, my physical capabilities. Partly why I’m still attempting Karate. I feel pretty good, generally, but there are aches and pains that didn’t exist ten years ago. A lot of my work is spent hunched over a keyboard. Writing, editing both books and podcasts. It takes a toll. And between previous martial arts activity and a car accident a few years ago (air bag deployment) I’ve damaged the fingers and thumb of my right hand, which frequently stiffen and hurt. There came a point this past month when I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t sit or stand in front of my laptop. It just hurt my neck and shoulders too much. I worry about this; what does that mean for the work I want to accomplish in the future? The Karate has been helping my over all fitness level (though I’ll have to protect my fingers better). And I have a therapeutic massage booked for next week, which I find a big help.
Anyway, I feel that 2024 began with an explosion of optimism and energy. I accomplished a lot with my friends and partners. Mark Rayner and I (and our many fabulous guests) recorded a lot of great podcast episodes. And we put together a terrific collection of Mark’s short stories in a book called The Gates of Polished Horn that will be coming out in March 2025.

Matt Watts and I also worked really hard on his first novel, Hope of the Wasteland, that will also be coming out in 2025. Very excited about that one too.

At the same time I was working with Tanah Haney on two projects; one, mastering a series of her accomplished harp recordings that we’d recorded during the pandemic, and two, putting the finishing touches on her superbly written novel A Peculiar Symmetry that DSP Inc. released this past month.
A lot of this was accomplished with the support and help of Jenn DeLagran, our Business Manager and all-round morale booster. (Jenn is still working full time and has other important obligations and probably doesn’t really have the time to help me with any of this but does anyway; I am indebted to her.)
2024 wasn’t all about work. I also discovered a terrific chocolate chip cookie recipe, made some new friends (online and otherwise), read some wonderful books and watched some great TV, released some of my own music on Spotify and Apple, spent time with family, hung out with my beautiful wife, spent time with my beautiful daughters, hung out with my beautiful Sheltie, visited Newfoundland (twice).
I saw some cool crystal ice caves, and much more. I thought a lot about the meaning of art, and have concluded (for now) that the purpose of art is twofold: one, to reassure one another that we are not alone in this crazy, sometimes scary adventure that is life, and two: to challenge us.
After all that, I definitely needed a break, which this holiday season has afforded. I am quietly gathering steam and rolling up my sleeves to tackle 2025. Looking forward, we’ll be releasing two of the aforementioned books, and a novel by Michael Antman (an anniversay re-release of his brilliant novel Cherry Whip). And I want to focus on finishing my own novel, Captain’s Away!, the first part of which I’m currently serializing on Substack. Then I’ll be editing Jenn DeLagran’s novel, with an eye toward releasing it, hopefully in 2025. I have a cookbook I want to release too, and a collection of essays. Matt will begin working on his sequel to Hope of the Wasteland. And acclaimed author and editor Ira Nayman has volunteered to help with DSP Inc., potentially bringing some exciting projects along with him. On the personal front, I want to spend more time with family, especially my parents. My Dad is 90. My mother, 85. Time with them is precious.
2025 will, naturally, be informed by 2024. I’ve learned I have to pace myself. Practice better ergonomics. Protect my neck, shoulders, back, and fingers. And continue to tweak my attitude and priorities.
Like many other creative souls, the work I accomplished in 2024 did not exactly propel me to fame or fortune. Each of my books sold a few more copies. Podcast episodes averaged 100 downloads each (it is notoriously difficult to gauge the listenership of podcasts). My activity on Substack remains obscure, for the most part.
But none of this matters, because the one thing that became abundantly clear to me in 2024 is that the creative work I’m doing is not about fame or fortune. That’s worth repeating: it’s not about making money or becoming famous. It’s about the joy of creation. The act of creation, the pleasure of having completed a work of art, either alone or in collaboration with another creative soul. It’s external values versus internal values: I have no control over external values. I can only control what’s inside of me: what I think, how I think.
It’s not up to me whether my work ever becomes recognized. Only the work itself is within my control.
With this realization, with this attitude, comes freedom. I don’t have to seek out a big publisher. I don’t have to monetize everything I do. This is why I can publish installments of Captain’s Away! online, essentially for free, my four (bless them) paid subscribers notwithstanding. There are other rewards that mean just as much.
When I was in Prince Edward Island over the holidays, my mother suggested we attend an afternoon choir at St. Paul’s Catholic Church in Summerside. Several local artists and choirs performed and the talent on display was astonishingly good. Nobody was getting paid; it was all for charity. Just after I arrived with my parents, a woman, a member of one of the choirs, saw me and came over with an excited look on her face.
I must preface this by mentioning that over the thirteen weeks I’ve been posting Captain’s Away! online, hardly anybody has commented on it or liked any of the posts, with the notable exception of David Perlmutter, a fellow writer and stalwart supporter of my Substack activity (thanks Dave!). This doesn’t bother me; it seems to be Substack culture to consume content but neither like nor comment on that content.
Anyway, this friendly, warm woman leaned into my pew and said, “Joe! I must tell you how much I’m enjoying your science fiction story online, with all the Acadian references. I just love it.”
I was gobsmacked. We hadn’t been Facebook Friends; I don’t even know how she knew about it. But she liked it enough to keep reading it and, upon spotting me out in the wild, to step forward to tell me about it.
And it’s on that positive, encouraging note that I complete this year’s creative journey.
On to 2025!
Podcast
Re-Creative: a podcast about creativity and the works that inspire it.
On our final episode of Season 3, Mark A. Rayner and I talked to writer, director, comic book artist and creator Christian Gossett.
Christian was on the show to champion the groundbreaking Akira Kurosawa film, Seven Samurai (1954). Christian got an early chance to design for the Star Wars universe Old Republic, and, as part of that process, is the man responsible for the double-bladed lightsaber. As he did this work, he did a deep dive into George Lucas’s influences.
One of those was Seven Samurai. The movie had a huge influence on Christian’s work, including how he frames his art:
“Even to this day, I’m constantly being asked by my collaborators to make it not so big,” Christian says. “Especially on a live action film, as it’s so expensive.”
Christian is more than a fan of Kurosawa — he’s deeply engaged with the director’s process and history and is knowledgeable about both.
If you enjoy the Star Wars universe, the work of Kurosawa, and how those two worlds tie together, don’t miss this episode!
This was the final episode of our third season. We'll be taking a bit of a hiatus, but look for us again sometime in 2025!
All previous episodes are available online, comprising the first 3 seasons, over 60 conversations with creative people from all walks of life about the art stoking their imaginative fires.
Advance Readers Wanted
Donovan Street Press Inc. is looking for advance readers for upcoming books. If you’re interested, drop us a line at contact@donovanstreetpress.com.
Thanks for reading!
Follow Joe Mahoney and Donovan Street Press Inc. on: Goodreads, Bluesky, Threads, Mastadon, Facebook, and Instagram
And here’s a few tracks from Joe on Spotify:
This has been the 47th edition of Assorted Nonsense, the official newsletter of Donovan Street Press Inc.
Really? Nobody else thinks "Captain's Away" is worth reading but me?
Joe, so glad that I was able to tell you how much I have been enjoying "Captain's Away". Thanks for the shoutout and hope you enjoyed the concert. Happy I helped end your year on a positive note. Happy New Year to you and yours.