New Year's Revelation
Welcome to 2026 from Mission Control!
Dear Substackers,
Technically speaking, Lunar New Year does not begin until February 17, but I’ll go ahead and wish you a happy Year of the Horse today. Do you think things will be better in 2026 than they were in the serpentine year of 2025? They couldn’t possibly be any worse, could they? Curious to know what we might expect over the next twelve months, I asked Google about “characteristics of the year of the horse 2026,” and it spat out the AI slop below:
2026 is the Year of the Fire Horse, bringing intense energy, passion, and a drive for action, freedom, and change, amplifying the Horse’s natural independence with fire’s dynamism for breakthroughs, bold decisions, and fast-paced progress, though requiring balance to avoid burnout. It’s a time for starting new ventures, taking risks, and embracing innovation, favoring those who act decisively over hesitation.
Well, I don’t know about all that, but I will say that on this first day of the new year I do have an important announcement to make about the future direction of markwillwrite. It is not so much a new year’s resolution as it is a new year’s revelation, which came to me in a fever dream. But what is the prophetic message from Mission Control? Simply this: I’ve come to realize that, above all else, Substack is my workshop and my warehouse.
Allow me to explain. By “workshop” I mean that it is here, in these Substack posts, that I have the freedom and the space to hone my craft as author, songwriter, and publisher in permanent exile. I now think of this website as a kind of alchemical laboratory, where I can experiment and—through trial and error—and with a little luck—do the great work necessary to convert dross to gold. More specifically, it is at markwillwrite that my new books and new albums—and who knows what other new creative endeavors?—will take shape—and you, as subscribers, may witness their conception, gestation, and eventual birth into the world.
At the same time, markwillwrite serves as a “warehouse,” a storage facility, a repository of all the fragments and pieces I will eventually need to assemble those new books and new albums, when they are ready to be assembled. It is a safe place, a secure archive where all the essential elements, in various stages of completion, may be kept until such time as they are needed to be reshaped, smoothed out, and combined together to form finished products.
I therefore find myself in disagreement with Baudelaire, who thought it futile to show his audience what was behind the curtain. In one of his prefaces to Les Fleurs du Mal, he sarcastically asks:
Should one then lead the rabble into the dresser’s and decorator’s studio, or the actor’s box? Should one reveal the tricks and levers of our gadgetry to the crowd so impassioned today and so indifferent tomorrow? Should one explain to them the edits and daubs and the variants improvised at rehearsals, or to what extent sincerity and instinct combine under the banner of indispensable charlatanism? Should they know of all the wrecks, makeup, pulleys, chains, regrets, and smears—in short, all the horrors that compose the sanctuary of art?
To this series of rhetorical questions—and contrary to the great French Symbolist—I say: YES. For I do not fear you seeing what goes on behind the scenes. In fact, I want you to be part of the process of creation. I trust you, dear Substackers, to follow my shamanic-artistic journey with patience and goodwill. I ask for your encouragement when you see me striding forth with confidence and for your admonishment when you see me stumbling or losing my way. Your feedback and criticism, whether positive or negative, will help me produce the best books and music—and whatever else—of which I am capable. Can I get an amen?
In terms of specifics, I will mention the ongoing Tao Te Ching translation I am churning out at the rate of one chapter per week with the assistance of Dr. Hong Zhi-Ping. If my collaborator and I pick up the pace somewhat, we might very well finish the book by the end of 2026. I also intend to continue the Underground Jukebox and the On the Ground in the ROC series of posts. Look for more demos of songs composed for the Gemini Pig concept album inspired by the Enneagram as well. New projects about which you may expect to see me posting include:
Wildesday (volume 2 of the Erinesque series of novelettes)
Peace (translation of Aristophanes)
Vengeance Is Mine (short fiction)
Betel Nut Beauties (collage)
Canto B (volume 2 of the epic poem Of Letters and a Man)
Liner Notes (literal liner notes on my albums)
Know Your Enemy (biographical profiles of the Big Wetikos)
Dead Presidents (biographical profiles of US presidents, who are also Big Wetikos)
Etymologies (see Earnest Games for an explanation)
Exactly As It Goes (short fiction)
The Rainbow Body (short fiction)
The JFK Files (investigative reporting)
The Gospel According to Mark (translation)
The Book of Revelation (translation)
The Korealist Anthology (in collaboration with Tomek?)
Station 2 Station (novel)
Goatsongs (novel)
Journey to Iberia (travelogue)
The Grand Tour (travelogue)
Stay tuned for more details in the coming days, weeks, and months.
And although I plan to de-emphasize podcasting this year even more than I did last year, there is still some unfinished business to take care of. Parts 2 and 3 of Texting’s “Write-Off,” featuring Tomek and myself, along with our special guest G.J. Villa, will hopefully be recorded before the end of January. In case you missed it, here’s Part 1:
At this point, I have no definite plans for either Books Are Burning! or Guitar & Pen.
Of course, some of the foregoing may be modified somewhat after I sit for my annual Tarot reading with Madame Sidney in the next week or so. But herein is the gist of what’s to come.
Thanks again for your continued support and watch your inbox for updates on all things Mark Will.
WELCOME TO THE YEAR OF THE FIRE HORSE!
MW