A Crazy Milestone

Hey folks, Aaron here.

I don’t normally drop content on a non-release day, but today’s special. And to explain why, I want to tell you a quick story. Which, after all, is sort of what I do, right?

Way back in another era, I was a graphic designer. I ran my own business, and made logos and marketing material for a bunch of companies. And in my spare time and evenings, I was writing novels and self-publishing them. You could think of them as “supernatural thrillers” with a touch of folklore. And my favorite thing to do was find local folklore—for me, that means here in New England—and weave some of those stories into my books.

I loved writing fiction, but I also discovered that I REALLY loved finding cool true stories or moments in history when folk traditions and beliefs sort of broke through into the real world and had an impact on real lives. Honestly, there’s nothing like stumbling upon some event or person from the past and basking in the weird and dark material around their story. 

And it got me thinking.

You see, even back then, it was really hard to sell self-published novels. So I hatched this plan where I would give away something really entertaining in order to get folks to sign up for my email list for future books. And what I decided to do was write up a few essays about my favorite New England stories with folklore at their heart. Mercy Brown’s gruesome exhumation. The haunted Hoosac Tunnel. You get the idea. So I got to work.

It took a few weeks, but in the end I had a document that was about 10-thousand words long. And that’s when doubt hit me. I had spent all this time crafting something I had planned to give to people as a PDF, but in the process, I had made it too long to really enjoy reading on their small little smart phones. So I let panic and doubt take control, and I dragged the file for this collection of essays to the trash on my computer.

And then…I had a thought. As part of my graphic design work routine, I often listened to audiobooks while I worked. And I wondered, what if—instead of giving people a big PDF of text—I grabbed a microphone and recorded these essays, and then gave out the audio files. Could I even do that? I had no experience narrating stuff. I didn’t know how to produce any sort of audio. Could I really do it?

Well, there was only one way to find out. I printed out one of the stories, sat down in front of a mic, and read it out loud.

I made mistakes. I had to start over a number of times. I felt awkward and out of my depth and honestly really self-conscious. But I stuck with it, and figured out how to cut it all together into something that felt a bit like a really small audiobook. And then I sent it to a friend, explained the plan with the email list and everything, and waited.

And he told me not to do it. Not to quit, mind you, but to not do the email list giveaway thing. Instead, he told me that the audio sounded more like a podcast, a kind of media that was really growing and becoming a great space to tell stories. This show called Serial had premiered just a few months earlier, and it had sort of forced the world to reevaluate our expectations for what a podcast could do.

What if, he suggested, you did the same thing? Release it as a podcast.

So I did the things I knew how to do. I came up with a brand. I designed a simple logo and cover art. I even built a website for the thing. And then I dug into the more mysterious parts…how to create the RSS feed that published the podcast episodes. How to connect it to iTunes, as Apple Podcast was known back then. And how to publish an episode. 

And then…I did it.

On March 18th of 2015—10 years ago TODAY—I clicked PUBLISH on the first episode of Lore. I didn’t have expectations. I had never released a podcast before, and had no prior results to compare it to. So I just sort of held my breath and pushed it out into the world.

On the first day, Lore had 9 downloads. NINE. But it slowly built up a bit of steam. By mid-April, it was averaging about 100 downloads each day. It was a hobby, and I was struggling to fit it into my busy work life, but it was growing, and that felt good.

And then, the explosion hit. Mid-April saw exponential growth. Suddenly my daily average jumped from 100 to 8,000 downloads, and then just skyrocketed from there. By July, I had grown the show large enough to take on sponsors, and the income from those ad spots allowed me to quit the design gig and become a full-time podcast producer.

A month later, tv offers started to come in. A month after that, book offers. I went on tour and performed Lore for live audiences. It was incredible. And it was a blessing.

Ten years. 

I started this show in my late 30s, and I’ll turn 50 later this year. My kids have gone from kindergarten to high school. I’m a lot more gray than I used to be. I’ve worn out a few keyboards, and graduated from a blanket fort to an actual, professional recording booth. 

And I’ve toured the country with my best bud Chad Lawson, telling stories to tens of thousands of people while Chad gives them chills with his gorgeous music.

To date, Lore has been downloaded over half a BILLION times. A far cry from those first 9 way back at the beginning.

Ten years.

In that decade, I’ve gone from doing this as a solo artist, figuring out how to do it all in the moment, on the fly, as I go…to running a production company that employs a bunch of other wildly talented researchers and writers. You hear their names in the credits for every episode. You’ve maybe met them at a live show or followed their other creative endeavors on social media. 

My Lore team is the best podcast team in the world, and I’m blessed and honored to have worked alongside them all this time.

Ten whole years.

I think the biggest truth I’ve held onto all these years is that it pays to not give up. I had this dream of being a full-time writer, and while I’m not a novelist per se, I spend my days writing and making fun content for all of you, and none of that would have happened if I had let myself delete that file.

Sometimes life can feel like you’re enduring the weight of a thousand planets, squeezing out your desire to create, your will to keep going, or your hope and joy. And all I can say is that you must hold on. Don’t quit, don’t falter, and don’t delete that file. Sometimes…not always, but sometimes…sticking with it can play off.

Art is a long game, not a quick roll of the dice. 

Anyway, ten years ago today, I took a gamble and published something that changed my life. And that change was made possible by YOU. You’ve listened along, you’ve supported what I do, and you’ve shared how much you love LORE with other people in your life. That truly and honestly means the world to me.

And don’t worry. Lore isn’t done yet. My team and I have an amazing list of episodes planned out for the next couple of years. We have advertising partners to fund it all. And our membership communities on Patreon and Apple Podcasts are still there to help you get the best listening experience possible.

I am so grateful that you showed up to listen to my stories. Thank you for ten years of multiple dreams come true. And thanks for being as excited as I am for what’s still to come.

Enjoy your day. Pat yourself on the back for a job well done. And as always…stay spooky.