Hi everyone,
First, two quick announcements, one sad, one happy.
Sad: someone has created a fake Instagram account called @georgesaunders_author. It’s not me, I’m not on Instagram at all, and I will never contact you in any way except, rarely, from my Story Club email account.
Happy: I had the honor of being asked to write an afterword to a new book of photos by George Harrison. It was announced by Random House a few days ago, here. It will be out in October 6, 2026.
As you read this, I am HOME, done with the tour. So grateful that I was able to go and that it all went so well. A few weeks before I left, my dad was in and out of the ER a couple of times, our dog Guin wasn’t doing so well, my wife Paula’s back was out and mine was on the way, and I thought I might have to cancel.
But I didn’t have to: my dad got better, and Guin did too, and had a really nice time in Pasadena, and Paula’s back improved and so did mine.
So I want to just spend a moment contemplating the wonder of that: things went well, they actually did.
Because sometimes they do. 😊
And thanks again, to all of you who came out to the events – your support meant the world to me, every night. It’s pretty fun, going on book tour, but it’s not without challenges – it can get lonely, and one is constantly made aware of the fragility of the ego (reviews come in and aren’t always good – you’re in some strange new place and begin doubting yourself, your book, your shtick) and there’s nothing like a friendly crowd to push those feelings back.
So, again: thanks.
I want us to get back to reading some new work soon but I hope you’ll allow me one more Office Hours-type session while I settle in back home…
Q.
First off, thank you, George.
I remember learning so much from your craft talk at the Vermont Studio Center between the publication of “Civil War Land In Bad Decline” and “Pastoralia.” All these years later, your metaphor of “Hank the dock worker,” to explain the blue collar strain of your writing personality, still lives in my mind rent free. And now to have you on Substack sharing your insights weekly - what a generous public service to anyone who cares deeply about literature and the creative process. Thank you.
In your recent interview with Rick Rubin you shared an anecdote of a music teacher who pulled a Rilke on you by saying you must change your life. There was something very chilling in your memory of that admonishment, especially in contrast to the non-judgmentalness of the two teachers who separately fostered your love of literature and led you to the Colorado School of Mines. I wondered if you could unpack the exchange for us and how it might have impacted your evolution as a writer since I sensed the exchange incited a deep self-knowledge. And since your guidance on writing is very much ways in which we can all cultivate a deep self-knowledge from an awareness of our particular taste to the condition of our mind and body when we’re writing well, I wonder what that moment did for you as a writer and teacher? My hunch is there is a powerful lesson in that moment for anyone pursuing a particular path and the necessity of cultivating self-knowledge in order to avoid bullshit, which will lead to both bad writing and unhappiness. I couldn’t help to see another parallel with the friend’s father from your intro to “Civil War Land In Bad Decline,” who saved you a lot of hurt with his no-bullshit wisdom.
Long time listener, first time caller.
A.
Yes, that was a deep and, well, lightly shaming experience… :)