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2023: A Year of Unexpected Connections

As I sit here in late December, trying to wrap my head around what 2023 was, I keep coming back to one word: unexpected.


Though I launched this blog in late 2022 when I released The Strangest of Places, I didn't expect that I'd keep up with it as much as I did. I didn't expect nearly a thousand people to read my silly little book. I definitely didn't expect the reviews, messages, or questions about Book 2.


But here we are.


What Happened This Year

In October 2022, I self-published a weird little book about a latchkey kid finding her people in the 90s Phish scene. I did it mostly because the story wouldn't leave me alone, and I wanted to see if anyone else would connect with it.


Turns out, some people did.



This year, I started The Rabbit Hole—this blog—as a way to keep the conversation going. To dig deeper into the music, the memories, the themes that shaped Autumn's story. To connect with readers who wanted more than just the book.


I wrote about:


  • Why Good Will Hunting sits in my top five favorite films

  • The blurry line between memoir and fiction (and why I won't make it more distinct)

  • How Gary Jules' "Mad World" captured what it felt like to be a latchkey kid

  • Why music becomes terror in horror films

  • The lost art of the mixtape in the context of Rob Gordon's character arc in High Fidelity

  • How my mother's authoritative parenting style shaped who I became

  • Gratitude for readers who took a chance on an unknown indie author


I started the Autumn's Playlist series, breaking down the songs behind each chapter—why I chose them, what they mean, how they connect to the story. It's been one of my favorite things to work on, even when it's just me and a handful of readers engaging with it.


And I've been genuinely surprised by how much I've enjoyed this. Not the metrics or the analytics or any of that nonsense. Just... writing. Thinking out loud. Connecting with people who love music and books and the weird intersection between the two.


What 2023 Taught Me

You don't need permission to create.

I self-published The Strangest of Places without an agent, without a publisher, without any industry validation. And people found it anyway. Not because of marketing or platform or strategy—just because the story resonated.


Community finds you when you show up consistently.

I didn't go viral. I didn't crack any bestseller lists. But the readers who did find the book? They got it. They saw themselves in Autumn's story. They asked thoughtful questions. They shared it with friends.



That's worth more than numbers.


Nostalgia is a bridge, not a destination.

Writing about the 90s isn't about living in the past. It's about understanding how the past shaped who we are now. The music, the culture, the experiences—they're touchstones. They help us make sense of where we've been and where we're going.


Imperfect work that exists beats perfect work that doesn't.

The Strangest of Places isn't flawless. There are things I'd change if I could go back, but it's done. It's out there...and that matters more than waiting until it's perfect.


What's Coming in 2024 (Maybe)

Here's where I have to be honest with you: I don't know.

I want to keep writing. I want to finish more Autumn's Playlist posts. I want to keep exploring the intersection of music, memory, and storytelling here on the blog.


But life has a way of getting complicated. Work is... uncertain right now. There are things shifting in ways I can't fully predict or control. And I've learned the hard way that promising timelines I can't guarantee only sets everyone up for disappointment.


So here's what I can say:


I'm not disappearing.

Even if posting slows down, even if I go quiet for a while, this blog isn't going anywhere. The Rabbit Hole will still be here.


Book 2 is still on my mind.

I haven't started writing it yet, but the opening is clear in my head. Autumn's story isn't finished. I just don't know when I'll have the bandwidth to sit down and write it properly.


I'll keep showing up when I can.

Some months might be sparse. Some might surprise me with bursts of creative energy. I'm not going to force it or manufacture content just to maintain a schedule. But when I have something to say, I'll say it.


That's the best I can offer right now.


The Low-Expectations Approach

I'm a big believer in managing expectations. If you expect nothing and get something, you're pleasantly surprised. If you expect everything and get nothing, you're crushed.


So let's go with this: Expect nothing from me in 2024, and anything I do post will be a bonus.

I know that's not what you're supposed to say as a content creator or an author trying to build an audience. You're supposed to promise consistency, regular updates, exciting reveals.


But I'd rather be honest.


2024 feels... tenuous. I can sense things shifting, and not necessarily in good directions. I'm not trying to be dramatic or cryptic—I just don't have a clear picture of what the next year holds.


So I'm going into it with low expectations and a commitment to keep moving forward, even if that movement is slow and inconsistent.


What I'm Grateful For

Before I get too morose about uncertainty, let me end with this:



To everyone who read The Strangest of Places this year. To the handful of you who've been following along with the blog posts. To the reviewers who took the time to share their thoughts. To the readers who reached out with messages and questions.


You made this year matter in ways I didn't expect.


I started this as a solitary project—just me and a story I needed to tell. But you turned it into something more. A conversation. A connection.


And that's the thing about creating work and putting it out into the world: you never know who it's going to reach, or how it's going to resonate, or what kind of community might form around it.


So even if 2024 is messy and uncertain and slower than I'd like, I'm grateful for what 2023 gave me.


See You on the Other Side

Here's to 2024. Whatever it brings.



I'll be here, in The Rabbit Hole, writing when I can.


Thanks for sticking around.

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© 2022 by Chris Campbell

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