The next era of Southlands
Something new, but nothing ending
A recent Facebook “memory” indicated that I launched this newsletter two years ago this month. My goals back then were various, but I envisioned that this outlet would be bigger than just my personality: I wanted to create something that felt like a publication—your go-to stop for understanding Southern nature.
Since then, I’ve come to several conclusions. One is that it’s hard to pull that off on my own, given the scale of the region. Another is that the newsletter format may not be the ideal medium for such a mission, anyway. Substacks tend to do best with hot takes and breaking news.
What strikes me as a better format is a print magazine. This instinct was affirmed a few weeks back, when the New York Times published an article highlighting some of the magazines I considered models—“small-batch, independent outdoors [publications]” that, according to the Times, exist in a rare niche where print journalism is not just surviving but turning a profit. Think Surfer’s Journal, Mountain Gazette, Adventure Journal—publications that appear a few times a year, avoid too many advertisements, and build a sense of community among readers.
Most of these outdoors journals are associated with the West, which is where most people seem to think all outdoor culture is set. As I noted early this year, Field & Stream is shifting to a similar print format, and will likely interest some Southerners. But I don’t think it will capture the fullness of Southern relationships with the land. So I see an opening for Southlands: a print magazine—maybe even a larger media company—focused on connecting people with nature in the South.
That will include stories about recreation and outdoor sports—paddling, hunting, fishing, hiking; probably some weird Southern outdoor traditions I don’t yet know about—plus stories on food, since farming and gardening are a part of nature, too. I’ll include travel and adventure stories; profiles of Southerners; features on conservation and land access; etc., etc.
Besides that central idea, there’s much to determine. The New York Times describes the successful cohort of outdoor magazines as “high-end,” but it’s important to me that everyone gain the knowledge to connect with the South. So maybe this will become a nonprofit that, besides the magazine, puts on low-cost events.1 Most importantly, I have much to learn about how to produce a magazine.
Consider this less an official announcement than a call for collaboration. You know someone who makes a magazine? I’d love to talk about budgets and supply chains. Are you a writer or photographer or artist who might like to contribute? Tell me what you think would be fair pay. Do you know someone who works in marketing at a big, Southern company with a stake in outdoors culture? While I want to be ad-light, I’ll need a few big sponsors, so please, make introductions. I’m already in conversation with designers, but I’m happy to meet more.
So, is this the end of this newsletter?
Far from it. In the weeks since The Great River hit bookstores, I’ve seen a steady uptick in subscriptions—and I suspect some of you new subscribers are here to keep up with what I’m doing and thinking. I’m also growing tired of the Website Formerly Known as Twitter but still interested in interacting with friends and peers online—so that’s what I’ll be doing with this Substack.2
If I boil down my ongoing “project” as a writer to a single sentence it’s this: I want to explore the human place in a more-than-human world—especially here in the South. So consider this newsletter in its new iteration a behind-the-scenes look at that work. Or maybe call it before-the-scenes: I’ll be working through some of the topics and ideas that interest me that may or may not be on their way to becoming a book or magazine story. Really, I’ve begun doing that already over the past few weeks. Movign forward, I plan to send out newsletters once every two weeks.
And with that change, may I suggest an upgrade?
I’ve reached a happy but difficult place in journalism: I’ve established a niche, I’ve got a foot in the door with many magazines. But selling stories to those magazines is still no shoe-in; it takes a lot of research just to land a story. That means I have to rent cars and buy airplane tickets and pay fees to access records—expenses that quickly eat into the final paycheck, which may take months to arrive. Your support of this newsletter helps keep that process going, so I can keep telling stories of nature in the South.
I’ve also been thinking about how to thank paid subscribers—to give you even more for your money. I’ll be rolling out two features for paid subscribers over the next few months, as experiments.
“Notes from the Southern Wild”: In the spirit of print publications—under the theory that holding writing in your hands is better than reading it on screens—I’m going to start handwriting little essays (maybe closer to prose poems) on of my trips, which I will mail to paid subscribers once per quarter. Yes, mail, as in U.S.P.S. (Functionally, I should note, these will have to be photocopies, rather than originals.) I’ll be reaching out to paid subscribers soon to collect addresses.
Southlands Book Club: I thought some of y’all might be interested in reading along through the books I’m digging through for fun and research. I’m still working out the details, but I envision that, once every two months, I’ll publish a Q&A with a writer that’ll be available to everyone, and then hold an online Zoom conversation open to paid subscribers.
In rotation
📖: Francis Spufford, Cahokia Jazz [An alternate history in which the Indigenous city of Cahokia was never abandoned, and forms a bulwark against white settler empire. Fascinating!]; Emma Copley Eisenberg, Housemates [Not done yet, but so far a fun meditation on love and queerness and fatness and America]
📻: The Twisters soundtrack [which is, by far, the best part of a run-of-the-mill summer blockbuster]; Los Campesinos!, All Hell [just some emo-indie rock that brings me back to my college days]
Events & media
I’ve been blessed with media coverage, which just keeps on coming. You can hear me on Mississippi Public Broadcasting’s Mississippi Arts Hour radio, or read a Q&A with E&E News that has some fun with my parallels with Mark Twain. In the podcast realm, I was on “Skipped History” and “Buffalo Roamer.” Also, Science magazine reviewed the book—at once quite kind and quite cutting.
+ I also spoke with This Is Hell! radio about how big money and politics are distorting Everglades restoration.
+ The book tour is on hold for the next few weeks, but in late August I’ll be heading north for some Upper Mississippi events: August 28 in Lacrosse, Wisconsin; August 29 in Winona, Minnesota, and August 30 in Minneapolis. Find details on my website.
Recommended reading
🦈 Shark attack
Dense with policy and science, this story in The Nation about shark hunting is worth a careful read. It gets after a question I consider essential when it comes to nature in the South: To what extent does our culture of hunting and fishing engender a healthy relationship with nature?
The story suggests that, in many cases, it does not. Some recreational fishermen, frustrated that they’re losing their catch to shark “bite-offs,” have pushed for the creation of “shark rodeos” and the legalization of lethal harvest methods—an approach that many scientists find appalling.
🥾 The economy of the wild
In their newsletter, Mountain Gazette offers an interesting breakdown of the “outdoor economy.” The short version: overall participation is up, but the number of devoted outdoorspeople seems to be in precipitous decline—which could spell trouble for the industry.
News roundup
The rise of the “wood pellet” industry brings suffering to Southern Black communities (AP)
Appalachia
A successful agreement permits the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians to collect sochan in Great Smokey National Park (National Park Traveler)
Searching for Bigfoot in North Carolina—a quest that’s sometimes silly, sometimes serious (The Assembly)
Mississippi River
A final decision on the Yazoo Pumps is expected by December—though as of yet there is no cost-benefit analysis (Mississippi Today)
+ River water will be routed into Louisiana’s dying Maurepas Swamp starting this fall (Times-Picayune)
Gulf Coast
A failed forest restoration in Louisiana is a dim augur for coastal mitigation projects (Nola.com)
+ The first ever “living shoreline” project along a federal levee (NOAA)
Louisiana politicians fight against habitat designation for the endangered Rice’s whale (Verite News)
Louisiana’s Indigenous people work to bring back river cane (WWNO)
The state task force investigating the impacts of carbon capture stays mum (Floodlight)
Can a new form of fish harvest bring back local seafood? (Gravy)
Florida
The resurgence of the Florida grasshopper sparrow (The Guardian)
Here’s a bit more from the write-up I’ve been sending to designers:
Most of the journal content will not appear online, but I do foresee social media accounts (Instagram, in particular), a few weekly email newsletters, potentially a podcast or two. I envision spin-off products, too: beautiful little maps of important Southern parks and landscapes, or brief guides to regions. (The work of Wildsam is an inspiration here.) We will also sponsor events: dinners that showcase the nature of particular regions, in partnership with acclaimed chefs; trips through beautiful Southern places, partnering with local guides. Surely other ideas will appear along the way!
Probably eventually I’ll have to change the name of the Substack. For now, though, I’m going to put off the rebrand.
I love this idea, and I sure hope you can make it work! As an OG mountain Gazette subscriber, I was quick to jump onto their refurbished train, and that NYT article led me to give Ori (global glimpses, written by locals) a try. The visual impact of these large format magazines is compelling, and the writing both entertaining and informative. It seems right up your alley!
Excited to see this announcement! I could see this mag really working well in your hands. I do think there is a niche there ready to be filled.