Guy New York Has to Die

Thoughts on transitions and moving forward

I think it’s time for Guy New York to die. 

Dramatic, right? Well, I suppose it is.

I don’t especially feel like I’ve been hiding or like I’m not being myself, but there’s something about having a persona, even if it’s simply a pen name, that’s exhausting and possibly should have a time limit––an expiration date if you will. 

And I’ve come to the realization that I’ve reached a point where I have done what I set out to do.

I’ve gone as far as I can with this project that started as a joke and quickly became deeply personal. And if I’m being honest, Guy no longer feels like me. It’s become more and more difficult to step into those shoes, and when I look in the mirror I see someone else. 

There is a temptation to burn it all down: delete my Patreon, my Substack, Medium, Tumblr, Twitter (which they sort of did for me) and go on my way with something akin to a blank slate. I can see an expansive future that’s cloudy and uncertain but without the weight of the past nipping at my heels. 

I suspect I’ll find myself in between hanging on and scorched earth.

But I don’t know what that future will look like. 

I don’t know what I’d like to do and that’s one of the things that’s been holding me back from doing anything. But if I lean into that uncertainty with more than a touch of curiosity it feels likely that I’ll land somewhere. 

Hopefully somewhere that feels more like home.

That desire for total destruction is the same desire to shave my head. It’s the desire to go out for a drink and never come home and the urge to change my appearance and pretend to be someone else. Maybe be someone else. 

The question is, what does it mean to stop? Is it a failure or an end and does the difference matter?

I do know that I feel a profound need to let go.

And a tremendous fear about giving up. 

The truth is, I no longer am Guy New York, so much as I ever was. And I haven’t been for a very long time. My interest in writing about sex has waned as well to the point where I feel as if I’m pulling teeth more often than enjoying myself. And that’s no way to work or to live.

I feel a bit sick to my stomach. I won’t lie about that.

I do wish I had somewhere to jump. Or better yet a place to land. But I have this nagging suspicion (born from years of inactivity) that I might have to let go before knowing where I’ll end up. 

And that’s terrifying. 

What if I want to go back? What if for someone reason my books start to take off? What if something happens and I need the few bucks a month more than the change of pace? 

Fuck, there are too many what if’s and I know they’re not coming from me. Not really.

Grief is going to have to be the first step. I don’t think there’s another way to go. There’s no way around grief, I’ve learned that the hard way, so I have to go straight through.

 If I skip it, it won’t take.

If you don’t grieve you can’t let go. And letting go is both hard and necessary. So I have to be a little sad for what was, while also celebrating it. Let’s face it, have you ever been to a funeral where you didn’t laugh a few times? Where you didn’t smile at some fond memories and felt more than a touch of gratitude for what you had?

Right now what this looks like is I’m logging out of Tumblr and no longer posting there. I paused my Patreon account so nobody gets billed and I’ll do that for Substack as well.  Medium is also permanently on pause. My twitter got hacked and I don’t have access to it anyway, so I guess Elon did that part for me. 

I am leaving my author site up, and I’m not taking my books off of Amazon or any of the other online retailers. My instagram never quite felt like Guy anyway, so I’m still Ben there. But just Ben (actually @beninnewyork). I don’t think I need to destroy to move on, but I do need to let it be in the past. 

I suppose an updated bio might be necessary:

Guy New York was a prolific author of erotic stories and novels between 2009 and 2023. He is no longer publishing new work.

My final worry and concern is about you. At the end of the day I don’t want to let you down. And I’m so grateful for all the love and support you’ve shown me. 

Substack is a complicated model when it comes to taking a break or moving on. There’s no way to easily manage this (from a logistics and billing perspective) and there’s no good time to say goodbye.

But fear of disappointment isn’t a good reason to stay still. And I think we can figure out the details.

So that’s all there is.

Once I send this letter out I’ll pause my paid subscriptions so nobody gets charged going forward. I’ll leave my old stories up if you’d like to dig through the archives, but it will be a static site now with a view that only looks back.

If something new and exciting comes along I’ll drop back in here and send out a note, so feel free to stay on the list if you feel so inspired. But no pressure. The last thing I want to do is think of a mailing list as a commodity. 

I don’t know what’s next. 

I don’t imagine I’ll stop writing, and I’m sure I’ll keep taking photos and rambling about New York one way or another. But right now I need to say goodbye and close the door so the next one can open.

Thanks for all your love, support, and most importantly your willingness to share and be a part of something that often felt vulnerable as it touched upon many of our fears and desires.

It’s been a fun ride.

Lots of love,

Guy

ps

If you have logistic questions or billing concerns feel free to respond to this email and I’ll do my best to help out.