

Discover more from Release McCracken
Saturday mornings in the daylight the pool is full of serious swimmers seriously swimming: I am a dinghy among yachts. This morning a yachty woman pulled close alongside me & I accidentally patted her on the bathing cap. Big peachy moon at first; then overcast. I swam for over an hour & when I left, just before eight, I encountered, for the first time, a bunch of people running to the gate to slip in before the pool started charging admission. They cheered each other on. I cheered them on too, in my heart
I received an email from a reader of this Substack who complained that it read more like a journal, not “polished fiction.” I apologize to that gentleman & anyone else who has been reading expecting polished fiction: it’s neither. As a series of short stories, it’s repetitive; as a novel, it has no plot or conflict, its main character always in the same mood & the same state of undress. Indeed it’s so dull it can only be non-fiction, my way to tell the universe (or a very small subset) that I like to swim early in the morning & I feel unseemingly virtuous about it. The good news is that as a way to demand admiration for low-level athletics it’s been very effective. He sent another message—I honestly didn’t realize that I could receive emails from random fellas via Substack, & can’t figure out how to prevent it—that said, in its entirety, “Ive read much better from you.” I should hope so. Sometimes I compose these sentences in my head while I swim but mostly they’re off-the-cuff, unconsidered, self-indulgent. That is why they are free. When I get paid I work a little harder.
Soon enough I’ll start my summer travels & will have to find something else to write about. That won’t be fiction, either.
As I left the pool morning I passed a smiling man about my age.
“Good swim?” he asked.
“Great swim,” I answered.
“Aren’t we lucky!” he exclaimed.
Yes, goddammit.
You Get What You Pay For
I like going to the pool with you . I feel virtuous by osmosis.
I'm more than grateful to you for sharing this uh — puzzling interaction. I had a man comment on my Substack who had formally Recommended it a few months prior, but instead of quietly unsubscribing he made sure to comment publicly on how "the writing can be exciting, but sometimes it's just all over the place" or something to that effect, and declared that he "honestly can't remember why he started reading." From a longterm subscriber, this was actually very funny. I thanked him for having stuck around as long as he had.
All this to say, if it happens to you, I'm more sure than ever that it's a badge, if an odd one to carry.