Thank you for making New York Cartoons a Substack Best-Seller! 🥳

The tale of two emails that recently changed the course of my life.

May 18, 2024
New York, NY

Two years ago, I awoke to the email I’d been dreading for sixteen years.

It was from Dave Braithwaite, Head of Editorial Operations at Fairfax Media. He told me in no uncertain terms that it was the end of the road for the comic strip I’d been writing and drawing every day for the past sixteen years. This news was followed shortly by an identical email from News Ltd, sealing the fate of Ginger Meggs. The 102-year-old legacy strip I’d tried to keep alive (yes, even by attempting to turn it into a webcomic) had drawn its last breath as the bean counters turned the lights off for the thing keeping my lights on. (Or, at least my drawing lamp.)

Golden Age Syndrome

One of the symptoms of arriving at the party just as they’re sweeping up the cups¹, (ie. Becoming a print newspaper cartoonist just as they’re closing up shop) is the gnawing instinct that one is always on borrowed time. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the umpire to call ‘out’. It’s no way to live, much less work. I resolved to never again tether myself to an antiquated dream that could so obviously become obsolete.

It was at that point that I dove into Substack.

With no regular gig to pay the bills, I turned my attention to evolving my years-long weekly newsletter into something I could —God forbid— charge for and build a more substantial body of work in the process. I poured a lot of time and effort into making it something worth reading.

The stories I share are real things that have happened in my life here in New York, and over time they’ve expanded into a bank of memories to refer to. A week-at-a-time memoir I never intended to write.

Once I moved my mailing list over from Mailchimp to Substack (that’s the precipitous jump you can see in the graph below) it became evident I was better off here on

Substack

. The increase in finding readers like you who want to read my work has been nothing but positive.

Then today, I awoke to the email I was not expecting.

It was from Substack. It said, “Congratulations on reaching over 100 paid subscribers on Substack! Your name and profile will now display this badge to show that you're a bestseller.” It was a positive sign that I haven’t been burrowing in the wrong direction. Again.

Over 100 paid subscribers might not sound like much, but it’s the difference between this being a side hustle and something I can honestly dedicate my time and energy to. I’m grateful to every single one of you who upgraded to a paid subscription.
Also, Morris says...

As

Anne Helen Petersen

sums this gig up better than I ever could:

I’m grateful for the ability to work at a cadence that allows me to avoid burnout, but also to be a part of this community. I didn’t realize how much I’d been missing it, or how much I needed to replace online habits that made me feel like shit with ones that felt nourishing.

From today you might notice a funny little orange tick next to my name. That tick is a result of your support, and for that, I’m very grateful.

If you’ve been a free subscriber for a while

…and you enjoy my work, the one thing I’d love you to consider is upgrading to a paid subscription, for the price of a cup of coffee. You can unsubscribe at any time if it isn’t your thing. If you can’t afford $5 a month, no worries.

If you’re already a paid subscriber

…the one thing you could do that would make all the difference in the world is to please share my work with one friend who might like it. It is as easy as clicking this here button.

As always, thank you so much for supporting my work. I’m abundantly aware your time and attention are finite, so I will always aim to fill them with something worthwhile (or at the very least, silly enough to be memorable.)

Your pal,

~ Jason.

PS. Don’t think I’d forget to include the real star of the show…

1. Largely a symptom of two things:

1. Setting career goals when you’re very young: only for those goals to be obsolete by the time you’re old/experienced enough to reach them. See: Getting into the magazine cartooning business, moving to Manhattan to live among artists, doing a daily print newspaper comic strip.

2. Indulging in Golden-Age Syndrome: The idea that you were born into the wrong era; longing for a time long past when ‘things were better’. The reality, of course, is many of the people in that era were also afflicted with the same malady, wishing they could have been born a generation earlier. See: Midnight in Paris.