8 Questions for... Andrei Atanasov

Attempts To Tell The Truth

Photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash

Andrei Atanasov

is a Romanian writer whose prose has appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, Drunk Monkeys, The B’K, and elsewhere. On Substack, he publishes the literary newsletter Attempts To Tell The Truth, where he posts honest, thoughtful essays and character-driven fiction, inspired by the masters but still wholly his own.

1.     Why Substack?

George Saunders convinced me.

I don’t know George personally, of course. But years ago, I read his novel Lincoln in the Bardo and I absolutely loved it. In fact, I told everyone who asked (which was exactly one person) that it was my favourite book. So when I stumbled upon Substack in the App Store and saw George’s big, lovable face, I was impressed. I didn’t know what this Substack thing was yet, but if it could attract a big name like that then maybe there was something to it. I didn’t start a newsletter or even download the app that day, but the idea of it got stuck in my mind.

Several months later, I found myself facing writer’s block and another dilemma: I was really caught up in the literary magazine game—submitting stories and getting lots of rejections and the once-in-a-blue-moon acceptance—but whom was I publishing for? Who was even seeing my work? On top of that, I wasn’t satisfied with my output. It seemed like I was writing half a dozen short stories a year, which to me is very little. True, I was “writing” nearly every day, but most of what I actually did was edit and rewrite old material.

That’s when I remembered George and this platform and I thought, why not go directly to the source? Why not stop looking for clout in a place where writers write for other writers and instead start a blog/newsletter on a platform built for readers?

One day, I just did it. I started a publication called Practice Space. Everything about it (logo, description, content) has changed and matured over time, including the new name, Attempts To Tell The Truth. Catchy, isn’t it?

2.     How long did it take you to find your groove?

I’m probably echoing several other people you’ve interviewed when I say this, but I don’t think I’ve found it yet. Actually, it depends on what you mean by groove.

If we’re talking about technical expertise, eighteen months in, I’m very comfortable with the platform, I know how to use Notes and what pretty much every publication setting does.

As for the things I post, from week to week I still never know! I don’t have an editorial calendar and probably never will, and though I commit to posting at least twice a month, sometimes I post much more, other times a little less. Spur-of-the-moment inspiration is my compass.

What has happened over time is that my posts have acquired a distinct aesthetic. When creating a new post, I actively think about how to make it fit in with the others, thematically, but also visually.

At the start, though, boy was I a real mess. If you look at my early posts, like this one or this one, they straddle the line between a traditional essay (a form I was wholly unfamiliar with at the time, anyway) and something akin to an old-school blog post. What even are they? I can’t say.

But it seemed like my writing, despite its ever-shifting form, resonated with people, so I kept publishing. Eventually, I was able to write with more intention, and as I learned more about the forms I’m mainly employing (the personal essay and the short story), my posts morphed into something you might find not only on the internet, but also in a book.

3.     How has it changed you?

Publishing on Substack has changed me plenty, as writer and human being both.

As a writer, I have become much more confident in my ability to tell a story that resonates with people. I worry way less about convention and rules, and have gotten a pretty good idea of who my audience is; whom I’m writing for. I also don’t really experience writer’s block anymore, which used to be a serious issue for me. It was likely the result of excessive perfectionism and the need to conform to the authority that is the lit mag editor. Strip that all away and give me a strict deadline, and I have to produce something. I’ve written better stories over three focused days, knowing that my self-imposed deadline was approaching, than some stuff I’d previously spent weeks or months on. There is something to be said about writing quickly. I think it makes for truer pieces.

As a human being, writing my intimate personal essays and stories on Substack has helped validate my feelings and experience. When people respond to something I share, something that’s often been kept inside for a long time, I feel seen. I’m also grateful for the opportunity just to write these things, as the act of writing has been pretty therapeutic, and even if not many people were reading them, the process itself would still have changed me.

4.     What mistakes have you made?

Lots of mistakes! I’m the king of mistakes over here, haha. Let me tell you about the biggest one.

In the beginning, I put a lot of energy into growth. I joined Substack Office Hours every week, read lots of newsletters and left tons of comments, and when Notes launched, posted nearly daily, and all of these things helped my newsletter take off. I made lots of online friends, 55 of whom now recommend Attempts To Tell The Truth to their readers. So it was definitely a fruitful period.

But around October of last year, I began to feel the first real signs of burnout. I’m accustomed to this feeling, having had to take the Romanian bar examination back in 2022—still the hardest thing I’ve ever done. When I noticed its incipience—headaches, trouble sleeping, increased difficulty finding joy in life—I stepped back and took a six-week break. I posted nothing from October until around Christmas, when I got the sudden urge to publish a Christmas-themed short story. During this break, I debated whether I should even continue or move on and do something else. Write books, perhaps. Or take more time off and do nothing but read, play games and watch TV. Something kept pulling at me, though. Substack had sunk its fangs into me, and it was not letting go. After so many weeks of absence, during which I never once opened the app, I found I missed it.

So here I am, six months later, still writing and publishing, and with no signs of burnout on the horizon. That’s because I learned from that mistake. I have turned off notifications from the Substack app, but do check it multiple times a day, whenever I get the familiar longing to read some of my favourite newsletters. My inbox has become like a Kinder surprise. I never know what new posts will have appeared. It’s so fun!

5.     To pay or not to pay?

I don’t ask for payment yet, but I likely will in the future. The thing is, my current job as a public servant is regulated by a series of laws, which basically tell me which side hustles I can and can’t have, and though I am expressly allowed to pursue a literary career, I don’t know (and perhaps the governing body of my profession doesn’t yet either) how an online newsletter fits into this. If it’s nonprofit, the way Attempts To Tell The Truth currently operates, then the law treats it as social media. If it’s for-profit, I have a fear that the law will treat it as a business (purveyance of “literary” goods and services?) rather than an artistic endeavour, in which case it won’t be allowed. If I can get over this legal hurdle, I definitely want to monetise. We shall see.

6.     What artistic and technical choices have you made?

The most notable choice I made, artistically speaking,  was to change genres. Before Substack, I was mainly a short fiction writer. I had published a slew of short stories in different online magazines (most infamously Flash Fiction Magazine and Every Day Fiction), and had only written one single essay. When I started my newsletter and pondered what to write, though, I was surprised to find so many essay ideas popping up. Truthfully, writing that first essay, which is called The Golden Boy and which paints a pretty intimate history of the time I was bullied in middle school, was the most intense and satisfying authorial experience I’d ever had.

Viewed through this lens, my switch from fiction to nonfiction seemed like the natural thing to do at the time. I just felt, and still feel, this hunger within me to tell my own stories.

These days, though, I shuffle. After I wrote that Christmas short story last December, I felt the urge to start writing fiction again. I think my output right now is 80% nonfiction and 20% fiction. I have also begun to publish some older stories that have been gathering electronic dust in my archives for years—misshapen things, stories that for some reason didn’t pass my taste tests and were not submitted to any literary magazines, but which, quirky monsters that they are, I still care deeply for—and have been overwhelmed by my readers’ response.

I think spending all this time writing essays has helped me craft better characters, too. I know what it’s like to spend weeks inside someone’s head, after doing it for so long with my own, lol. I know what to look for.

7.     What’s been the effect on your writing?

To use a word I employed in a Note when talking about current literary magazine writing, I think my writing is less constipated. I write with more abandon, I let myself feel the flow, the cadence and musicality, the emotion behind the words I’m writing, and I care much more about content than I do about form. Like an open-minded parent, I let my pieces choose the way they want to appear before the world. I have seldom changed the structure of a story or essay after I first set it down on the digital page.

8.     In it for the long haul?

For sure! I do want to publish a book one day, likely sooner rather than later, but I don’t plan to ever switch to full-on book publishing and abandon Substack. It’s been such a positive experience for me, and I see writers who couple traditional- and self-publishing of books with writing on Substack and I think the two make a wonderful pair. So this is where I see myself in five years: having published a book or at least written one, and publishing consistently on Substack.

I love this platform and I want to see it thrive. I think Substack can bring reading to the forefront of our culture again.

Subscribe to

Andrei Atanasov

: