A Rebrand and a Whoops
A quick note to my gentle readers
When I started this Substack, I used a name I’d created for the expressive workshop series I’d been working to launch here in the Pacific Northwest—Chanterelle Story Studio.
After my first workshop—where I had incredible participants doing brave things with writing—life got in the way, and I haven’t scheduled another one since. (Soon, gentle readers. If you live near me, soon.)
But I realized that Chanterelle Story Studio works beautifully for a workshop series. It just doesn’t quite describe what I’m doing here. So yesterday, in what felt like the right move but might have been an audacious ADHD whim, I changed the name of this publication to I’ll Go First.
I also grabbed the domain igofirst.org. So now, if you want to tell a friend they really should sign up for weekly stories and writing prompts, you won’t have to remember chanterellestorystudio.substack.com and hope they can spell “chanterelle.” (Because of course you’re sending your friends here. Maybe. I hope. OK, I’d be ridiculously flattered if you actually did that, though I’m betting you probably don’t. But still.)
No more remembering how to spell fungi common names. But why I’ll Go First?
It’s pretty simple, really. The name describes exactly what I’m hoping to do here. “Tell me a story about _____! I’ll go first…”
The “I’ll go first” part isn’t about feeling entitled or wanting to be first in line. It’s about breaking the vulnerability barrier. I’ve led too many writing workshops where I’ve asked people to write about vulnerable things, only to watch them shrink because they don’t want to feel alone and exposed. So, hey! No worries! I’ll go first. And once you’ve seen what I left on the table, all of it raw and real, maybe you’ll feel more ready to listen to your own voice, pick up a pen, and write it down.
Because there’s real power in that. It’s a little magical. And if you haven’t tried it—if you’re really more here for the reading than the writing—that’s perfectly okay. I love readers and writers. But maybe give writing a shot for a week? You might surprise yourself.
And finally: the whoops I alluded to in the title.
This morning I shared an emotional post about my mom. (We all have one of those in us. Of that I’m sure.) And as I was skimming back through the newsletter—as writers do, because we tend to obsessively double-check our work even after it’s published—I noticed I’d accidentally copied and double-pasted a section of the memoir. So it appears twice, with another segment sandwiched in between. Ugh.
Before I write it off as a “shit happens” moment, I wanted to quickly apologize for the confusion and ask you to read the story online, where I’ve fixed it and made it whole again.
Because Mom deserves that.
With heart,
Karen