If you’ve been around my work for a while—website, Substack, or the scattered corners of social media—you’ve probably noticed I tend to build a lot of rooms. Books become essays, essays become poetry, and poetry becomes projects that grow faster than their original labels. Over time, those rooms start stacking into something less like a neatly organized archive and more like a living structure that keeps adding hallways while I’m still writing inside it.
If you’ve been here long enough, you’ve also seen me do this before—letting certain spaces hold a mix of everything for a while, then slowly moving things into better shape as they clarify themselves. I’ve talked about this rhythm on TikTok as well, including in connection with my Dysfunction Junction videos, where I began speaking publicly about my childhood and the larger memoir work it connects to, My Demons Have Demons. Some of that sharing was early, intentional, and necessary—part of advocating while the work itself is still forming.
That same cross-current runs through my Substack and TikTok now, where I use Dear Indie posts, writing discussions, and process work alongside more direct testimonial pieces. That includes Because I Bore Witness, a developing collection of essays and articles already beginning to appear on my Substack at lynnlesher.substack.com. Those pieces are political, personal, and religious in nature, drawn from lived experience and the decision to document it rather than let it disappear. They began as a promise to speak clearly about what I’ve seen and lived, and to keep that record visible in spaces where silence is often easier.
I am a working writer and author, which also means I have to generate income in order to sustain the work and support myself. Some of the videos I’ve shared will begin to shift into written form—articles or essays that hold the same material in a more lasting shape. The form may change, but the weight of them won’t be reduced; if anything, it allows the work to be held with more care, more depth, more room to sit. At the same time, some of the more sensitive material will begin moving behind paywalls—not as a barrier, but as a boundary, so certain pieces can exist with the level of context, safety, and steadiness they require.
All of this exists within the same practice: writing, speaking, rearranging, and refining as the work expands.
So I’ve started reorganizing again—not because the work is changing, but because I want it to be easier to move through. Easier to find what you came for without getting lost in everything else along the way.
You’ll start to see that shift across my website, Substack, and professional pages. Things will be grouped more clearly. Projects like The Tapestry of Me, Dear Indie, and ongoing collections will have more defined spaces. The work itself remains the same—it’s just being given better structure as it grows.
Nothing is disappearing. It’s all still here.
The work isn’t changing. I’m simply making it easier to find.
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