First of all — thank you.
In a year marked by rising authoritarianism, unheeded warnings of corruption and complicity, virtual public spheres destroyed by oligarchs, and AI decimating creative fields, it has been a rare pleasure to write this newsletter. My original words, my original research, my original photography. My original political exposés that spur my original death threats.
That last part I could do without. My comfort is that it’s been ten years of living this way and I’m still here.
I keep on writing in the meantime, in the Mean Time, because I have been documenting Trump and the decline of America for thirty-five years and I am not surrendering my speech. As I wrote in September, “I’ve written two books about the nexus of government and organized crime. As a result, I live under a double bill of apprehension: They’ll catch me too early, and you’ll catch on too late.”
It’s not the easiest life — but is there such thing as an easy American life?
As the New Year approaches, I try not to dwell on what’s coming and instead show gratitude for what I have. Against the odds, I’ve been able to keep this newsletter open to all, relying solely on volunteer paying subscribers. I do not believe in paywalls in times of peril. My articles are available to anyone regardless of their financial situation. I want this newsletter to stay free even when America is not.
I left the comments open to all too, and a community of commenters emerged, talking in good faith. I love hearing your perspectives and the general feeling of comradery. It reminds me of how the internet was in better days.
I am very grateful that you all make it possible for me to write for a living. This newsletter is the main source of income for me and my children — so your generosity is deeply appreciated! If you’d like to keep us going, please subscribe:
I am about to spend time with my extended family for the holidays, but I’ll be back soon with more stories. I also have a new book coming out in 2025: The Last American Road Trip, which is available for preorder. It’s similar in style and content to this newsletter but is an entirely new work.
My heart and soul are in The Last American Road Trip. No matter what happens, I’m glad I wrote it. It’s important to keep a record of the people and places you love. It’s as important, more important, than recording the sins of corruption. You need to know what you are fighting for and why. You need to write down that love before bad times harden your heart and make you feel like it will hurt too much to open it up again.
Here are the articles I wrote in 2024 that I like best. I try to write essays that can be reread any time, like tracks on an album. These are my favorites:
1. Brenda and Dylan Are Dead. The most Gen X article I ever wrote, posted the week of the alleged Trump assassination attempt.
2. The Red, White and Blue Screen of Death. A Missouri to Wisconsin road trip tale of the day the internet went out and nothing worked — and the dangers of a digital future designed by oligarchs.
3. Driving in Circles. On the Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs duet and the economic betrayal of generations of Americans.
4. The End of Days Inn. Another road trip tale, this time from Missouri to Ohio and Indiana in the days after the election, processing the nation’s fate with my family.
5. Last Chance, USA. A road trip from a ghost town called Last Chance, in western Colorado, across the plains to the World’s Largest Ball of Twine in Cawker City, Kansas, with some political commentary along the way.
6. Bad Weather. I just dig the writing.
7. The Great Unconformity. Exploring Colorado’s missing geology as tech oligarchs erase American history.
8. Elvis and the Edge of Reality. Took about sixteen hours to write and five hours to edit until I got it to say what I wanted it to say. Not to be confused with The King.
9. Intermission. I struggled with what to say about America in the time between the election and inauguration. I wasn’t sure how I did, but Neil Young approved, so I must have done something right.
10. Election Day, 1990. This article contains a poem I wrote about Trump when I was twelve years old, but it’s mostly a tribute to my childhood best friend and bygone days.
There are a lot of other articles, many covering ongoing political crises — the election, the massacres in Gaza, state attacks on civil rights — as well as more travelogues and history and geology and art and pop culture. I encourage you to check out the archives.
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I took some decent photos in 2024. I’ll end with my favorites. I don’t use filters. I like things to look the way they are.
I wanted this photo for the cover of The Last American Road Trip. It seems like one continuous mountain landscape, but the car mirror actually shows the past and the future, caught in a serendipitous shot. Alas, I did not convince my publisher. Happy to have it here though.
This photo is from Elephant Rocks State Park, which I wrote about here. I walked between two boulders and was greeted with incredible light and shadow.
I took this photo from my kayak on a lake I paddle in St. Louis County and wrote about what I saw here. Along with geology, there are a lot of kayaking and canoeing photos in this newsletter! But that’s what life is for.
It’s hard to take a bad picture in Colorado. The state does the work for you. But this photo of the ruins of a home on our search for The Great Unconformity is a keeper.
The ghost town of Last Chance. Some stories don’t need words.
And one more that I took in Arkansas in December 2019, since it has the 2024 spirit!
That’s it for now! I hope you all have a fulfilling and safe holiday season.
Love,
Sarah
You make such a deep impression. There’s so much of you in your writing. Old enough to be your parent, you frighten and astonish me at the same time with your knowledge and insights. The threats and risks you take for us. Like the rest of us, I feel you are mine.
Please keep writing in this Mean Time! We need to hear your voice.