Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

The Only Constant

A question echoing into this canyon, from me to you. Can you hear?

Edie Meade
3 min readDec 4, 2021


I started this blog in November of 2019. That seems like a lifetime ago — and as I look over at my youngest son, now 21 months old, I realize there’s no “like” about it. It was a lifetime ago. His lifetime.

We are two years into a lot of heavy stuff, friends. I’ve changed, you’ve changed, the world has changed, how we interact has changed.

This post may be a goodbye, or it may be a temporary signpost, or it may just be a question echoing into the canyon.

What do you think, my 544 followers?

Last month I canceled my annual membership fee before it re-upped. It was partly because I haven’t used the platform much lately. Partly I was cutting subscription costs across the board to save a little money before Christmas.

And partly, I was considering where I wanted to put my effort. Assessing myself, diagnosing what was making me feel overstretched.

For a few months after signing up, I poured a lot of consistent energy into writing here, publishing several essays a week. I probed personal troubles, explored topics that I thought were interesting — physics, pregnancy, art, politics — and even posted poetry.

I was, and am, a work in progress, and I got a lot out of the routine of regular essays. I generated a lot of ideas and honed my skills.

But like my experience with most internet platforms, I experienced diminishing returns. It wasn’t even anything particularly negative about this place. I had a baby and a toddler to take care of, and my window of writing time was narrower. It was also harder to justify pouring myself into a blog when I wanted to focus on writing a novel. If I had an hour to write in a day, how would I spend it?

Since I shifted my focus from this platform, I have been published in dozens of literary journals. Tiny victories:

  • My poetry has been picked up (and polished) by some wonderful magazines.
  • My short stories have found great homes and won contests; in November, one story, “Culling Chickens,” was even nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
  • I’m writing a (music) album…



Edie Meade

A compassionate and opinionated human being. | Fiction author and visual artist in Central Appalachia. | Give my newsletter a try: