I was supposed to be working on my book this week. Paradise Beyond Pulse has been on my desk in a near-final state, waiting for me to give it one last, decisive push. Instead, I put the whole project aside for two days.

The reason was a note from Minnesota. I read Teri Leigh’s account of what is happening in her community right now, and it pulled me entirely out of my orbit. It wasn’t the headlines, but the details:

• a donut shop turned into a medic center,

• a bookstore owner walking through tear gas at seventy,

• people cleaning tear gas debris at sunrise so children wouldn’t wake up to it,

• mothers in reflective vests taking night shifts in sub-zero weather to watch over strangers’ kids,

• the National Guard offering donuts and cocoa the morning after a death.

These were not stories of disaster. They were stories of people being stubbornly human, against the odds. It was impossible for me to read without feeling something shift.

Poem Them Down?

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I read Nicoles article The Brown House and jokingly said maybe the best we can do is simply poem those bastards down. Nicole gives us an open mandate, Permission to Weird.

So this is me, doing exactly that.

A Brief Pause from Heart

I stepped away from my manuscript and wrote eight small poems. All of them about community. All of them about ordinary goodness. All of them about the quiet ways people hold each other up when systems fail.

I wrote the poems and, as usual, I created the soundscapes and visuals with AI. I’m releasing these all for free use with no copyright restrictions.

If these pieces help you spark hope, support your community, or simply remind you that kindness still happens in real time, then take them. Share them. Pass them forward. Credit me if you want, but it’s not required.

It’s Not Them, But Us All

I don’t live in Minnesota. Actually, I’m pretty far from it. I don’t pretend to know what you’re going through there. I’m seeing only fragments of it from the safe distance of my screen.

But as a mother of two, reading about families trying to stay safe, neighborhoods improvising survival, and strangers stepping in when parents “disappeared,” hit closer than I expected.

Some situations are local, others belong to all of us. This is the latter.

Thank you for reading and caring.

Minnesota Inspired

I’ll publish the eight poems individually here on Substack and on my website. They’re all available to you at once.

About & Context

These poems, soundscapes, and visuals are unrelated to my main project. These pieces exist purely as support, no commercial intent, no conditions attached. You’re welcome to copy, share, and pass them forward in any way that feels useful.

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts below ↓

I am already deep into writing the book. At this stage the work is technically moving forward, but mentally I am starting to tire and feel the need to get it out of my hands. What began as a relatively contained poetry project has expanded far beyond its original scope.

Just a quick reminder: Most of my writing is published openly and free. Almost all posts are automatically paywalled after 14 days.

To see archived posts and poems, you need to break the paywall.

Making of Paradise Beyond Pulse

Paradise Beyond Pulse started as a roughly 120 page collection with about 80 poems. At some point I became stuck on the idea that these poems could not exist as a printed book because many of them had already been published on Substack. That assumption slowed the project more than I expected.

While circling that issue, I began examining the world building and narrative logic more closely. That process pushed me to write complementary poems that filled structural and thematic gaps. My mind shifted from a loose collection into a more intentional system. More about that on previous update:

In total I wrote around 240 poems before stopping. Even though I still had unused themes on my list, I figured it was pointless to write any more for this just because I felt like it. I deliberately chose exhaustion over endless accumulation.

From that material, I have now cut the book down to roughly 150 poems, and I am still open to further reductions.

What was removed and why

One example of a removed poem is ‘Dressed for Destiny’. I have added this one to the end of this article in both writing and as in Soundscape. Let me know what you think.

This piece was cut mainly because the first book only covers the early phases of the Systoics, while this poem introduces later conflicts that may belong to future volumes.

The same logic applies to many Substack-published pieces. A large portion of already published poems will not appear in the printed book, after all.

Current state of the manuscript

I’m finished writing the poems for this collection, aside from editorial fine-tuning. Structurally, I am satisfied with the internal logic and rhythm of the book as it stands.

Soundscapes and creative fatigue

The soundscapes are still significantly unfinished. Producing them at scale using Suno has proven more numbing than expected. It’s still great fun, but I get bored on certain style and that means loosing my focus a bit.

I briefly considered changing styles, but realized that impulse was driven more by personal fatigue than by artistic necessity. For this project, maintaining stylistic continuity makes more sense than chasing novelty.

So I keep on hammering those beats. Wow. Doesn’t that sound inspiring? In the end, all artistry and all projects have annoying elements, whether it’s washing brushes, signing books, marketing, or whatever.

What is your surprising bummer in your writing or art?

Leave a comment

Removed Piece - Dressed for Destiny

Dressed for Destiny

This dress does not decorate.
It disciplines.

It shapes how I enter space,
how I arrange my spine,
how much of myself
I allow
to surface.

It fits too well to be hated,
as if tailored from memory.

Instead of being worn by me
it has grown on me.

This dress
I don’t dare to tear.

This breath of air
I risk to wear.

©Samia Oldman

At this point, the work is less about creating more material and more about honoring the core and outline I have already created. I need to constantly remind myself, that the remaining task is refinement, not expansion.

What are you interested in reading next?

• Dystopian Poetry

• Artist’s Headspace

• Making of Hush Halo

• Square One

• About, My Why and My How

• Leave feedback on Reader’s Corner

What would you like to ask me?

I’d like to write more “Making of” articles. What topics should I cover?

Most productivity advice assumes you wake up as the same person every day. With the same energy, the same focus, and the same amount of mental space. As if the mind were a machine that boots up the same way each morning.

It’s not.

Some days, life takes over before I’ve even had a chance to plan it. Other days I sit down to write “just for a moment” and resurface only when the light outside has shifted and kids are asking for dinner.

Today’s productivity culture has little flexibility for this rhythm. My brain refuses to warm up on command, and some days vanish into a mysterious void. Often my focus arrives late, but once it does, it settles in and refuses to leave.

Over the years I’ve learned to treat my focus, or lack of it, with kindness. I stopped fighting it, stopped questioning or trying to schedule it.

Instead, I harvest it when it’s available.

Share

Where I Thought I Was

For a long time, I believed consistency was the way. I absorbed the idea that real work happens in neat, repeatable units, at the same time every day, without friction.

I know people like this, but I’m not one of them. Irregularity felt like something to correct, not understand.

When my energy arrived in waves instead of straight lines, I treated it as a flaw. I tried to behave like someone whose mind responds well to routines, even when mine clearly didn’t.

In my head, consistency meant maturity, reliability, professionalism. It took me years to see the mistake in that thinking.

Stop Interrupting the Moment

The shift came from noticing what happens on the rare days when life leaves me alone and there is uninterrupted time to work.

On those days, I was deeply productive. I learned that my brain doesn’t want to pace itself but to lock in. That’s why I became an entrepreneur: to be in charge of my focus.

Dystopian fantasy poetry needs time and space where nothing pulls at your sleeve. I need a mental environment where thoughts aren’t broken apart in the name of efficiency.

I often sit down with a loose plan, sometimes aiming for a single sentence or sound. Then hours disappear. Time collapses. Ideas arrive fast. I feel inside the writing.

By the time I surface, the day may be gone. In return, I get poems, worlds, soundscapes I didn’t know I had. When I’m in, I don’t need a timer. I just want to be left alone until I’m done.

Presence Beats Pacing Every Time

It took me a long time to accept it, but I do my best work in immersion. The kind of writing I make leans on atmosphere as much as language, and it can’t be done on schedule.

Leave a comment

My mind doesn’t respond to polite routines. It responds to depth. I need to stay with the same ideas, images, and tonal threads long enough.

Discipline was never the problem. Whenever I try to force my work into productivity systems, it thins. Depth gives me speed where it matters. The writing retains an internal coherence that can’t be scheduled into existence.

Designing Around Focus Instead of Fighting It

Once I stopped arguing with how my focus works, my process began to develop. Instead of spreading my energy thin, I protect the moments when focus naturally concentrates. In poetry writing and soundscapes, creating something real matters more than the process.

Writing feasts on writing. Thinking deepens by thinking. Editing comes later.

Grouping my work this way isn’t this clever system. It’s the only way to stay honest about my attention.

Protecting Momentum Instead of Managing Minutes

Momentum is hard to restart. Bundling protects the flow. Emotional continuity inside a poem or soundscape fades quickly when interrupted. Constant switching leaks energy in ways no schedule can recover.

So when the window opens, I don’t count minutes. I dive in and let the work take the shape it needs. I can clean up later.

What Productivity Metrics Miss

Productivity culture measures what can be seen: frequency, streaks, output, schedules.

Presence doesn’t fit into metrics.

You can’t spreadsheet immersion. Showing up on schedule often means showing up thin and distracted. The writing gets done, but it feels provisional.

Bundling flips that logic. I disappear on purpose so that when I surface, something intact often comes with me. Not always—but often enough.

I don’t optimize for visibility. I optimize for being there.

I’m less interested in proving that I was present than in knowing that I actually was.

The Cost of Working in Bundles

This way of working isn’t tidy. There are long stretches where nothing gets published and nothing looks productive. It looks like absence, even when I’m working intensely.

When something finally goes out, the stakes are higher. The work carries more weight, which can create pressure.

The Tradeoff I’m Willing to Make

I spend less energy pretending to be available and less time feeling guilty. I stopped apologizing to myself for how my attention moves.

The risk is real: longer gaps, higher pressure, fewer chances to soften impact through repetition.

There is also a calm that comes from not constantly resisting my nature. I’ve accepted this tradeoff.

Learning to Trust My Own Rhythm

Consistency isn’t the villain, but for my writing, regularity matters less than resonance.

I care about alignment—working in a way that matches how my attention actually moves. When I honor that movement, there’s less friction and less internal negotiation.

Share

Bundling stopped being a strategy and became a form of self-trust. Not rebellion, just refusal to borrow a rhythm that was never mine.

On Finding Your Way

I’m still learning to notice when attention is available instead of forcing it. Some days that means doing very little. Other days it means disappearing into the work.

There’s no single right rhythm, only the one you can sustain without breaking trust with yourself.

Subscribe now

Your Presence Here Matters

Thank you for supporting this evolving project, even when the work is abstract, layered, and hard to explain.

As always, I’m glad to hear your thoughts.

Own your glitch.

Yours,

Sam

ps. I appreciate if you take a moment to leave your thoughts on my Readers Corner.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Discover my Poetry or read more about my writing process:

Did you miss the latest Artist’s Update?

What would change if you worked true to your rhythm?

You know the feeling? Right before the finish line, when everything suddenly halts? I do. Not from doubt this time, but from clarity.

In this update, I’ll share what actually happened during the holidays. Why the project suddenly expanded. And how one quiet pause turned into the full blueprint for the entire Hush Halo universe. You’ll get a sneak peak on new poetry, weird inspiration and can check out the teaser on cover designs.

It All Looked Done, Until It Didn’t

It was only a few weeks ago that I genuinely believed Paradise Beyond Pulse was ready to go.

I was in a hurry. The layout was finished, the ISBN purchased, the cover designed, and the Amazon KDP settings polished to the point of - - Well, I was already mentally in the launch phase.

And then the momentum just halted. Not dramatically. Not in a crisis kind of way. More like a quiet internal brake.

When Flow Stops for a Reason

When my flow stopped, it felt more like a signal than resistance. The world behind the poems was bigger than the book I was preparing to publish.

I knew the poems carried atmosphere, mood, and tension. I also knew the internal logic still needed anchoring. I didn’t want this weird world to scatter into beautiful fragments without a spine to stand on.

That was enough to make me step back.

Rewriting the Hush Halo Synopsis

During my so called quiet days between Christmas and New Year, I ended up rewriting a full synopsis of the entire Hush Halo.

Not as presentational material, but as a tool for myself. I needed an inner map to keep the world coherent and the logic intact. I wanted to make the emotional arc steady enough for anyone trying to follow along.

Pulling Down the Idea-Cloud

Hush Halo had hovered over me like a giant idea cloud. I knew what it felt like, but not what it actually was.

Writing the synopsis pulled everything into view, connecting threads and creating logic and motivation. The realm formed rules I hadn’t consciously articulated before.

I wasn’t just chasing an atmosphere. I was building an actual story.

The Poem Count Shock as the Material Multiplies

Until now, I’ve published around 100 dystopian poems on Substack. But once the larger structure clicked, I realized I had more than 200 pieces that could fit the first book alone.

Great, right? Yes, in theory.

In practice, this means going back through everything and choosing what actually belongs in the first book of Systoics: Paradise Beyond Pulse. It also means reworking anything that drifts too far from the core.

A Glimpse Into the Tone of Poetry

That sudden expansion opened a new creative window. I’ve written several fresh pieces that came directly from understanding the world more clearly.

Here’s a poem from that new batch. It’s just a small preview of where the tone is heading now that I’m writing poetry with an actual map in my hands.

When Everything Yields

When Everything Yields

Moving through spaces
designed to bend before me.
Widened doorways, lightened halls,
steady floors.

Nothing catches on my clothing,
touches my thoughts.
Every surface agrees.

Interactions arrive pre-smoothed.
Disagreements dissolve into tone.
Tension gets edited out of the room.
Whispered words get heard.

My body relaxes a bit too easily.
Shoulders drop before they rise.
This life protects me from collisions
with invisible armor.

I wish edges told me where I ended,
pain defined my shape.
I wish resistance gave my choices weight,
reaction made my touching real.

But here, everything yields.

Safety as an atmosphere.
Comfort replacing friction.

I feel myself losing the memory of me,
how I learned what I know,
who I was before the bow.

As I kneel I feel, 
this aint me.


©Samia Oldman

Let me know what you think!

Leave a comment

How My Brain Helps and Complicates

I’m first to admit that I’m naturally impatient. At times, almost too quick with my hands for my own good. I create fast, a lot, and often without stopping to ask whether I’m working on the essential parts or just the exciting ones.

The point stands. I move fast. Maybe this project is teaching me to slow down just enough to let ideas find their right place and time.

The Timeline Shift I Didn’t Plan But Needed

I know no one is holding their breath for my debut except me, which is probably healthy. Still, here’s a casual heads up: the original release date will almost certainly shift.

I’d rather correct now than publish too soon. This pause did not cancel or derail the project. It clarified it. That feels far more valuable than sticking to a date on a calendar.

Unexpected Inspirations

I’ve drawn a lot of creative energy from Substack lately, but also from films, series, and books. As this might turn into an interesting topic later, I’ll say this much now.

One of the strangest related surprises has been returning to Lucy M. Montgomery. Yes, that Montgomery. The one who gave us Anne Shirley, the daydreamer of daydreamers.

A solid reference point for dystopian and sci-fi poetry, right? And yet it hits differently when you are building a bleak future realm while still trying to leave a crack open for hope.

Anne of Green Gables might not approve of my world, but she would understand the imagination required to build it.

“Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”

A First Look at the Systoic Trilogy

The first three book arc, told from the perspective of the Systoics, now has a visual identity. Or at least a strong candidate for one.

The general direction is a clean, atmospheric, slightly eerie aesthetic that captures both the cold logic of the Systoics and the beautiful, blooming stream beneath the system.

Think of it as a mood board in book form. Knowing myself, I reserve the right to change everything at the last minute.

Let me know what you think?

Leave a comment

Your Presence Here Actually Matters

I want to thank you for supporting this strange, evolving project. Especially because my artwork is abstract, layered, and occasionally a little hard to explain without a twenty page disclaimer.

As always, I’m happy to hear your thoughts.

Own your glitch.

Yours,

Sam

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Subscribe now

Discover my Poetry or read more about my writing process:

Did you miss the previous Artist’s Update?

As always, I’m happy to hear your thoughts

• Have you paused and rebooted a project?

• Do you follow your first plan, or does the real version appear later on?

• Tell me about your last creative detour?

Comment below!

In this update I’ll reflect on choosing Substack as a platform, in hopes this might be useful for some of you writers.

#1 About Choosing Substack

I chose Substack after a fair amount of hesitation. What ultimately made the decision for me was simplicity and focus.

Subscribe now

Still, using Substack allows me to publish and distribute content within a single system. Writing and publishing remain the core actions, and right now that matters more than polish.

Substack also supports the way my poetry is unfolding. It is not an ideal platform for building complex literary worlds, but it is functional enough to let the work exist and grow.

#2 Let’s Talk About Substack as a Platform

As said, I didn’t choose Substack lightly or over night.

I have built websites professionally using platforms like WordPress, Squarespace, and Wix. Committing to Substack meant deliberately accepting far less control than I am used to. From a technical and visual standpoint, it is a compromise.

Substack helps me keep writing and publishing somehow connected. There is no separate system for building pages, managing distribution, or maintaining infrastructure. At this stage, that matters more than complexity, flexibility or polish.

For an indie writing project that is still evolving, momentum is more important than a perfect setup. Substack makes it possible to publish consistently without turning the platform itself into a project.

#3 Site vs. Substack

I think we should talk more about Substack’s two faces. Understanding the differences has helped me make clearer choices with Hush Halo.

The reader experience of Substack is fundamentally different depending on where you encounter it. There is Substack as a writing and reading environment inside the platform, this is especially familiar to writers and active subscribers. And there is Substack as a public-facing website that people arrive from outside, using links and searches.

By site, I mean the public-facing website that readers see in a browser (both mobile and desktop).

By platform, I mean Substack’s backend, its publishing logic, and the app experience.

Subscribe now

Substack as a Site

The way I see it, the site functions as a container. It carries the project so I don’t have to keep rebuilding it while writing.

The Hush Halo site brings together an ongoing dystopian poetry project, related soundscapes, and behind the scenes documentation in one place.

• I can shape structure, hierarchy, and entry points by managing navigation and pins.

• New pieces can be added without rethinking the layout.

• I can plan what is visible first and how content is grouped through tags and sections.

• I can at least try to influence how a reader might explore the work.

This does not mean the project is finished or fixed, but that the structure is stable enough to support it.

Substack as a Platform

As a platform, Substack is something else entirely.

Here, I have very limited control over structure and visual presentation.

The app in particular enforces a standardized reading experience. Features like pinned posts, navigation choices, or structural decisions made for the website can feel awkward or even counterproductive inside the app.

All the effort put into sections, tags, navigation, and site layout is largely irrelevant when a reader uses the app.

Rather than trying to resolve this conflict perfectly, I have accepted it.

I treat the platform as a publishing and connection layer. It allows me to write regularly, reach readers directly, and learn through practice. It is where dialogue, subscriptions, and continuity happen.

Site and platform overlap, but they are far from identical. Recognizing this has made it easier for me to make decisions without trying to optimize every part.

Substack as a platform is my best effort to connect with you and to learn more about writing. I will do my best to give back your support or pay it forward by sharing my wins and my losses.

Share

#4 Still Under Construction

Navigation remains somewhat rough, and finding your way through the material is not always intuitive. Unfortunately, Substack does not offer many tools for improving this.

Some sections are still sparse, and others will likely be reshaped or merged as the project develops. For example, I haven’t figured out yet where to add the actual books once I get to publish them.

#5 A Practical Note for Fellow Newbies

The main lesson I’ve learned so far is this: you don’t need a final or perfect site to move forward.

Structure helps, but in the beginning you often don’t yet understand enough to create a structure that actually works. Don’t get stuck there.

Start without having everything figured out. You can fix things as you go, and the mistakes you make will become the most valuable lessons you cannot grow without.

When you do work on structure, keep it really, really simple. In the beginning, what you actually need from a site is something that:

• allows you to publish without friction

• supports growth without constant rebuilding

• does not pull attention away from the work itself

Especially early on, reducing options often increases output. Choosing a limited platform like Substack can be a strategic decision, not a compromise.

Own your glitch.

Yours,

Sam

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Read more about my writing process:

Did you miss the previous Artist’s Update?

Any thoughts? I’d love to hear your reflection on this. Comment below!

So, as we are both seasoned with neurodiversity, double hyperfocus it was.

Building a gingerbread house earlier this week had nothing poetic about it. Just a kid at the edge of his creativity and focus, and a mom trying to keep the experience positive while keeping the mess to a minimum.

Apparently Gingerbread Starts With Geometry

Even though I asked, my son didn’t start by drawing a house.

He grabbed a ruler, a stack of white paper, and began sketching parts. Walls. Roof pieces. Angles. Exact measurements he was very proud of.

We talked about what had to match and why the base had to be larger than the house itself. A surprisingly difficult concept.

While he was fully in it, confident and curious, ruler in hand, I stayed close, smoothing the path so the experience would remain a good one.

Baking the Pieces (and Accepting Their Opinions)

We used ready made dough and cut the pieces using ‘the blueprint’ as our guide. I even managed to find a semi clean ruler for the actual dough work. Half the dough disappeared into strategic snacking. The rest became walls and roofs.

Some pieces came out a little burned, some a little soft. One roof part puffed into a shape that definitely was not in the plan. We almost forgot to cut doors and windows before baking, but remembered at the last second.

Day Two: The Part Where Patience Was the Main Ingredient

We let the pieces rest overnight. Neither of us had the energy to go further.

The next day, we started gluing the house together with icing, which works like edible cement but requires you to hold each wall in place for about ten minutes.

But he managed. Barely. And so did I. Barely.

Some, or most to be honest, pieces did not line up and were warped. One roof part was too soft and nearly cracked under the weight of candy. We adjusted, propped, rotated, and kept going until it stood.

Decorating: Two Sugar Pugs and a Lot of Strong Opinions

This was the moment my kid had been waiting for.

He decorated the two sugar pugs with care, gave each one a specific decorative color, and placed them proudly in front of the house.

We added ladders and candy canes, creating a slightly chaotic scene. I quietly reinforced a few pieces from the back so they would not collapse overnight.

The Confidence Leap

When everything was done, my kid stepped back, looked at the house, and said:

“Actually… I think I could build real houses too.”

And looking at our crooked but cute construction I admired that confidence. He wasn’t thinking about the burned edges or crooked rooflines. He saw the finished thing and assumed possibility.

“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever built.”

There’s something refreshing about that. Kids don’t overthink the flaws, unless we point them out to them. And again, I didn’t.

Big junk of neurodiversive parenting is guarding the positive, catching and praising for the effort and polishing the memories.

Imperfections Still Make a Whole

Later, the house was finally sitting on the counter. Leaning a bit, decorated with enthusiasm, guarded by two candy pugs, admired by us - I reflected on this.

• Nothing went exactly according to plan.

• The shapes changed.

• Some parts burned.

• Some needed more support than expected.

• And yet the house stood.

• Kid was so happy and proud.

• I was just happy.

The process worked because we kept going, not because everything went right.

Are My Drafts Just Gingerbread Pieces?

I realized how familiar the whole thing felt.

• My poems rarely match the blueprint in my head.

• Some come out warped, some too soft, many of them overbaked.

• Some need to sit overnight before I can even look at them again.

But the same rule applies: the work still stands if I keep building.

Chaos is Given; Control Is Optional; Finishing Is Not

This gingerbread project reminded me that:

• I don’t need to control every part of the process.

• I don’t need to force the outcome.

• I definitely don’t need everything to fit on the first try.

• And sometimes, what comes out is way better, than what I had in mind in the beginning.

What matters is finishing the damn thing — crooked roof, mismatched walls, small triumphs, all of it.

That’s how the gingerbread house got built.

Own your glitch.

Yours,

Sam

ps. Don’t be a stranger. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Happy holidays to you all!

My self published poetry book will be published in January 2026. It’s the first book of the Hush Halo world.

Which flower should hold the cover? (poll below)

Need some context?

About the Book: Paradise Beyond Pulse

The collection unfolds in the aftermath of the Systoics’ transformation. Consciousness has been refined into function, emotion translated into efficiency.

Every need is met before it is felt. Peace is engineered. Safety perfected. There is no hunger, no hesitation, no interruption. Life is smooth, safe, and quietly hollow.

The cover flower needs to carry this world.

About the Illustrations

The back story of the Hush Halo begins cold and controlled. I wanted to move the visuals toward softness and femininity to create tension. I feel this tension sits at the very core of Paradise Beyond Pulse.

This is dystopian, but not a space adventure. It’s more of a journey inward.

The flowers belonging to this world are made in this world. They grow through technology rather than soil, built from light, wires, screws, and holograms. They appear organic while remaining synthetic.

About the Flowers

Both options belong to this world.

White Calla Lily (left)

• Cold white. Sterile elegance. Perfection without warmth.

• Often associated with modern minimalism, controlled power, and dystopian visual language.

Silver Lotus (right)

• Metallic silver. A future-corrupted symbol.

• Enlightenment without spirituality. Purity achieved through systems, not soul.

Take the poll.

New to my dystopian poetry?

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

I’d love to hear your reflection on this. Comment below!

This is a small but real milestone, I want to share.

In this update I’ll list what has changed on the Hush Halo publication. Hopefully you’ll get some ideas for your own Substack site.

#1 Hush Halo has a Home Now

The project now has its own designated domain: HushHalo.com actually exists.

I have also put some work into structuring the site. These changes are unfortunately not visible in the app, only on the website due to limitations on this platform.

#2 On Site Evolution

As I’m narrowing my focus, a few concrete things have changed. These are practical changes, but they mark a clear step forward in how the work exists and how it can grow.

Subscribe now

Domain and Home Page

As mentioned, the project now lives under its own domain www.hushhalo.com.

This creates a stable reference point for the work and supports long term structure, discoverability, and continuity without changing the publishing workflow itself.

The Home Page will never be ready. I try to serve readers who arrive at the site randomly, not necessarily through the Substack app. For now, I have added some depth by highlighting different areas of the site that will hopefully draw new readers forward.

Within Substack’s closed realm, especially the app, this is not very relevant.

Still, it matters to me. These changes will hopefully carry the brand of Hush Halo and SEO of the site in the future.

Site Structure

I have reorganized the site structure using sections and tags.

Earlier, everything lived mostly in a single stream. Now the content is grouped so readers can arrive from different entry points, explore selectively, and return later without needing to read everything in chronological order.

My goal for now is to offer just enough structure to make the project readable and navigable without overcomplicating it. The About Page explains the basics of the project. The starting point is a Square One page that acts as an entry for new readers. It gives context and points toward the most relevant places to begin or continue.

Sections give structure to the site and can later be used as separate newsletters if that feels right. The setup looks simple, but it took some effort to get it right (or now, at least).

If you have lots of content that needs categorizing and managing, I highly recommend learning about tags and sections.

Subscribe now

Sharing My Process

I am introducing the Artist’s Headspace and Making Of sections.

These are dedicated spaces for documenting decisions, development, and structural changes alongside the published work.

#3 Newsletters

Knowing myself, I will never sustain consistency like Ali Abdaal or Dan Koe. I simply don’t have the brainpower nor the interest for that level of content creation.

Instead of daily, weekly, or monthly newsletters, I commit to randomness.

My process is closer to entropy, and I do not want to pretend it is clean or tidy. You will receive my letters when I have something real to share.

Share

#4 What’s Next?

1. I have planned to write about choosing Substack as a platform. It is far from perfect, but I chose it anyway.

2. I will also drag you, willingly I hope, into the process of actually designing a poetry book. There is plenty to share about cover design, editing, and publishing.

Don’t be a stranger. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this and also about your own process.

Own your glitch.

Yours,

Sam

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Read more about my writing process:

Did you miss the previous Artist’s Update?

Let me know your thoughts on these changes.

Is there maybe something here you could use on your own work?

Welcome to my first Artist’s Update!

The Hush Halo has carried me far deeper than I expected when I wrote the first poem here on Substack roughly five months ago (July 2025). What began as a loose constellation of thoughts has grown into a world with its own pulse, its own rules and forms.

I want to take a moment to share where things stand, how I got here, and what comes next.

Lost on the Launching Pad

These past months have been a strange and steady kind of acceleration. A heavenly mess of connecting, learning, and realizing that something bigger was forming underneath my feet.

I started by writing through the fog, trying to understand the future we’re walking toward. Somewhere in the process, the poems began forming a spine. A Realm emerged. A logic, a rhythm, a shape. This odd format became mine.

At some point, I realized I wasn’t writing random standalone pieces anymore. I was building a world. A world that felt alive enough to ask for an audience.

So here we are. Or at least, here I am.

My First

Hush Halo is no longer just a collection of posts scattered across Substack, but it is officially becoming a published poetry book. My first. And first dystopian fantasy poetry book with soundscapes—at least that I have come across.

Paradise Beyond Pulse (aka Book One) already exists, sort of, on my screen. It’s sort of structured, laid out, and practically ready to print.

In this update I’d like to tell you how I got from “publishing my first poem online” to “accidentally creating a book.”

Subscribe now

Becoming of “Something”

Nothing about this journey has been strategic. I wrote because I needed to. I published because I wanted to experiment. Until this project, I’d never shared anything online that truly belonged to me.

Somewhere while writing the early poems and experimenting with those first soundscapes, I stumbled into this current format. I have started to describe it as poetry with pulse. Catchy, right?

Your reactions and comments kept the momentum alive, from the very beginning. Without that support, I doubt I would have made it past those first three weeks. What began as an ongoing experiment slowly shifted into:

My Binding Decision

The decision came slowly. From the beginning of this project, I’ve struggled to explain this strange concept and format in a way that feels coherent. I think that if not immediately, maybe not even soon, but eventually, it should start making sense to readers. To you.

I have a movie running in my mind as I write. But expressing it in digital form through notes and posts feels like liquid, quite hard to grab and comprehend.

So I made a choice. Hush Halo will become a physical. I believe it deserves more than to be scrolled past.

Already Out There?

I crashed into the realization that I actually had already published almost everything needed for the first volume. Damn it!

Publishing a physical book forced me to rethink how the digital side of Hush Halo should exist. It felt odd to release a print edition while all the material remained freely available online.

This is me giving you a heads-up on upcoming changes:

Publishing Unreleased Pieces

Since most of the core material of Paradise Beyond Pulse has already appeared here, I’ll add some unreleased pieces from my drawer.

A portion of this bonus material will be published on Substack, but some I’ll reserve for the book so it holds something unseen. These include poems that never fit the weekly rhythm and pieces that simply needed more time.

Hiding Some Gems

I will also unpublish some older pieces, to eventually have a book-worthy collection that is not all available online. (So go and read it all now, while it’s still all there. )

Shift to a Time-Sensitive Paywall

So I decided to keep Hush Halo free for active readers. After 14 days, many posts will slide behind the paywall automatically.

Read more about the paywall:

Committing to This Carnival

Paradise Beyond Pulse is essentially complete. The layout is done, though I may redo it a couple of times. The shape of it feels right. The only thing left is choosing a release date.

But I’m glad I decided to pause and take a breather. December felt way too loud, and I felt I needed to get my head straight. Not entirely possible, really, but something in that direction.

So I moved the release to January. The big day will probably be either the 21st or the 28th.

January is a calmer month, readers have rested minds, and the days are slowly getting lighter again. You know, all the logical reasons to make a decision...

I will lean on urge people have in January to look for something new, maybe to feel excited about life again.

This is the Beginning of… What Exactly?

Paradise Beyond Pulse will be the opening book of Singularity of Systoics, one of the four major story arcs within the larger Hush Halo universe.

I’m learning about myself as a writer at the same time as I learn to write poetry, self-publish, design covers, and market a book. Not knowing the workload required and not having experience is probably a blessing, something I may realize later.

I’ve drafted the thin and winding roadmap. If everything holds, the entire arc will take me two to four years to complete.

The rest of Singularity of Systoics is planned for release throughout 2026. I’ve mapped the structure, the emotional beats, the migrations between worlds, and the loose hero’s and heroine’s journeys that will thread through it.

This Is Me Diving Into the Deep End

This is just the beginning. There will be plenty of poems that refuse to behave. And at least one poet who definitely refuses to behave… It’s ambitious and unfamiliar territory, yet it feels right.

Thank you for being here and supporting my work, truly. This project exists because someone on the other end is listening. I don’t take that lightly.

Own your glitch.

Yours,

Sam

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Read more about my writing process:

Any thoughts? I’d love to hear your thought on this. Comment below!

Lately I’ve had to rethink how this digital side of Hush Halo should exist here in Substack. As I’ve made further plans, it felt odd to move on beyond certain point while all the material remained freely available online.

So I decided to paywall the archive, not new posts. This way most of Hush Halo will remain free for active readers.

If you’re an active reader, nothing really changes. You’ll still get almost everything just as before. After 14 days, many posts will simply slide behind the paywall automatically.

This means:

• If you follow actively, you can read almost all new poems and posts for free.

• If you want full access to the archives, you need to support the work with a monthly or yearly subscription.

• Some occasional content (like playlists) will be paid-only from the start.

This isn’t about locking the world down. It’s about making space for the book, the long arc, and the next stages of this passion project. It’s the gentlest model I could imagine.

Neurodiversity, in all its spiciness, pulls me in every direction, while burnout and depression flatten the edges in unpredictable cycles. I use tech and AI every day, yet there is a part of me that dreads the future we are building.

Writing dystopian fantasy poetry is not the obvious way to sort that out, but somehow it works. I have always been drawn to stories where everything feels lost, yet something small insists on surviving.

Subscribe now

This darker thread in my heritage understands long winters and the steady ache of watching horizons for signs of change. Hush Halo grew from that mix. In the beginning, I called the project “I Am Complex,” since I felt this complexity within me and around me. Depth and the layers I work through do not always show in the final poems, but they shape everything.

Creating this fantasy world of Hush Halo has helped me make sense of the real one we are heading toward.

Read or listen to the very first poem: “The First update Felt like a Relief”.

Melancholy as My Baseline

Melancholy is not an artistic choice for me. It is the place I start from, long before I open the editor. It shapes my first draft, my tone, and the rhythm I naturally fall into.

I often begin on the darker side without planning to. Not rough or pop like Bukowski, even though his writing truly inspires me. Mine is a different kind of moody. The melancholy of a mother. A lone-wolf woman who is barely making it day by day while still trying to hold on to a vision of herself, of life, and of the future of her children.

Read about My Why

The seasonal depths of darkness add its own sweet pull toward looking at our horizons, ahead or behind. Burnout and depression bring different kind of depth, tone, savageness, and a certain brutality. I may be fighting a good fight, but I’m tired.

Melancholy sits at the baseline of my creative process. Not as drama or tragedy, but as a quiet undercurrent beneath almost everything I write. I recognize it long before the first line appears.

The Weird Ways Hope Slips Into My Poetry

Hope shows up in tiny decisions while I write. I am grateful for my neurodiverse traits, the ones that keep my prana moving and bring twists, joy, and light.

These moments of brightness often surprise me more than they surprise the readers. Somehow even the smallest trace of warmth makes the world of Hush Halo feel truer, but not necessarily lighter.

Subscribe now

Writing Hush Halo has shifted my perspective from fearing the future to being curious about it. In six months, my point of view has changed. What felt like a true vision of the future at the beginning of Hush Halo now feels like good fantasy.

Do Not Polish

To avoid polishing the poem in early stages is a very practical choice. I do not lock a poem into a certain depth or mood, but allow it hold pain and possibility at the same time. My drafts contradict themselves without restrictions. This is the only way to keep the piece alive long enough to find its core.

I love to work in batches, mostly because it’s more convenient. It is easier to stay in one emotional state and let it guide a whole section of work. Often my soundscapes are created in a wildly different mood or situation, generously creating another layer to my dystopia.

I know I cannot return to the exact same tone later, so some poems feel like they come from different families. Like siblings who grew in different emotional climates.

Letting contradictions sit side by side is part of the process. I try not to sand the edges off when I edit.

The Collapse and Resilience

I have always been drawn to “all is lost” stories. That spark of survival, that small trace of almost lost personal power and silent stamina forms a powerful core.

The future might hold both collapse and resilience, maybe even in the same breath, at the same time, in the same mind.

Melancholy gives the poem its weight. Hope gives it a pulse. In my writing I try to leave the loose ends hanging on purpose, for you. You, as a reader, should be able to feel the heat of the mess on your own terms.

What about you? How do you feel when you read dystopian poetry or fiction?

Leave a comment

Systoics Are the 1%

In the first part of Hush Halo, the contrast between the Systoic ideal world and the remnants of humanity is intentionally sharp. I want you to feel unsettled. To be appalled by the choices made. And at the same time to wonder, maybe uncomfortably, if any of it could be possible.

Hush Halo became a way to process that tension. I can see and even name people who consider themselves the 1% and I’m sure you can too. Those who think they are forever entitled and forever capable. In my storyline, Systoics get exactly what they want and deserve. So how would you feel about joining them?

My personal dilemmas with current tech and humane values are at the core of this Realm. My dystopian poems hold space for what I cannot yet resolve, but I try. Poems let the heaviness stay, but they also leave a crack open for light.

You cannot see it yet, but it’s there.

The light, it is always there.

READ MORE about my writing process:

What about you? Do you look for the light in dystopia, or do you lean into the darkness? Comment below!

Subscribe now

When Language Shrinks and the Feeling Grows

There are moments in this project when the words are simply not enough. I sit down to write a scene and I can feel exactly what I’m reaching for, but the vocabulary refuses to show up. It is like standing in front of a thin veil. I know something is on the other side. I can feel its weight and its outline. I just can’t quite see it yet.

That gap between knowing and naming is usually the sign that I’m finally in the mud. This is when my hands start expressing the air and my tongue starts moving on its own, tasting the words silently.

Feeling My Way Through

This part always happens instinctively. I start with a clean idea, usually something I pulled from my Excel system, and suddenly it just does not fit anywhere. The words fall apart. I’m lost before I’ve begun. Instead of pushing harder, I step into the fog and let intuition take the wheel. I follow the pulse of the idea, not the language wrapped around it.

It feels strangely freeing. Syntax stops guiding me. The context turns liquid. The poem becomes a forest with roots I keep tripping over, and the only way forward is to feel my way through.

It’s Digging, Not Thinking

Here I write in impressions and try to feel the textures. Whatever I am trying to reach is hiding just out of sight. I cannot just stand up and go looking for it. Instead I sink deeper.

It is that glossy-eyed kind of focus where you try to pull something up from the bottom of yourself. It feels like walking down branching paths inside your own mind without having a clue where they go or how deep they drop.

Sometimes the turn is so absurd it makes me laugh out loud. I once started a poem with some fancy intention and ended up writing about fast food and DoorDash. My brain tossed the idea at me from nowhere, and I just grabbed it.

The shift made no sense and felt completely right. This poem had picked a different door, and in that short moment I was open and brave enough to walk through it.

Co-Writing with Your Weirdness

Sometimes, when meaning hides, the rhythm helps to fill in the blanks. Sometimes I use silence instead. Negative space shows me what is missing, what is unsaid. My intuition grabs a memory, a stray metaphor, a childhood scene.

I often end up describing something with words that technically do not belong. I once compared the atmosphere of social media to the feeling of performing for dolls as a kid. On paper it makes no sense. Emotionally it landed with perfect accuracy. The poem understood something before I did, again.

Taking a Breath

When a poem grabs me like this, it is both fun and humbling. Sometimes I honestly feel like I am stealing from the ether. I look at the lines and wonder if these are even my words. Where did they come from.

This is when I need to take a step back and let it breathe. When I return to the poem after some distance, I can see what I actually created. If it has the potential to resonate with someone else. If it is worth publishing.

I have sort of tamed it now, and I get to polish it if I want. At this point the poem usually behaves. Poem should never be pinned down, but to leave it with enough mystery so it can travel on with someone else.

Share

Building Worlds with Poetry

Working at the limits of language has taught me that I don’t need to know where a poem is going. But I do need to understand its fantasy realm and its dystopian frames, the poem’s playfield if you like.

Sure, I need words to write, but I cannot let the words lead me. The Hush Halo grows deeper because I let it lead. Yet I still need a sense of the larger direction.

If you compare, creating common content is like building Legos with instructions. Writing poetry is building Legos without instructions, during an earthquake. You work with what you have, without much control. It’s only when everything settles, you can start fixing it.

In The Hush Halo I write about the realms and backstories mostly for myself. They are tools I lean on as I build this dystopian fantasy world. My way of keeping my Legos, well, maybe not in a box, but at least within reach.

Every wrong word might become the real one.

What about you? Have you ever followed an idea that made no sense at first but turned out to be exactly right?

HUSH HALO is Sam Oldman’s personal art project in multimedia format. The heart of my art is the Dystopian Poetry and Soundscapes. Hush Halo poetry leans on an over arching storyline in near future settings, the Sci-Fi Realm of Hush Halo.

POETRY · WRITER’S UPDATE · REALM · SOUNDSCAPES · SHOP & BOOKS

Welcome to The Hush Halo!

You have entered a world of dystopian fantasy poetry, a universe built from fragments of both dystopia and utopia. You decide which prevails.

This long-form art project centers on poetry but expands into soundscapes and multimedia visuals. Each poem opens a window into a larger story about evolution, technology, loss, and the quiet that follows.

Subscribe now

POETRY with Pulse

Poems are published FREE, so following closely you can get it all for free. All pieces include soundscapes, to give depth. Poetry get’s paywalled after 2 weeks, but there are plenty of forever free samples for free subscribers. 🖤

REALM of Hush Halo

Here you can learn about the new world after the Great Optimization. Please subscribe for full access and audio.

Artists HEADSPACE

Here I open up about my personal thoughts on this art project.

MAKING OF

My personal updates of ups and downs of this project. You need to subscribe to get access.

SOUNDSCAPES

Are playlists made of all published poems for easier listening, for paid subscribers only. Soundscapes also travel individually with each published poem.

Subscribe now

Free or Paid Subscription?

You can always update you subscription preferences (desktop only).

FREE

• Access to the most of poems and soundscapes.

• Access to the most of Writer’s Updates, including Artist’s Headspace, Making Of and Realm Insights.

• Occasional newsletter updates.

• Artist’s NOTES

PAID

• FULL ARCHIVE ACCESS to read and listen to ALL online published poems, posts and soundscapes.

• PLAYLISTS available (poetry soundscapes), listen to unmastered, emotional audio journeys for each poem.

• Occasional early looks and first to know at unreleased material.

BACKROOM BELIEVER (Founding Members)

• Artist’s generous gratitude.

• Plus Backroom Updates with exclusive insights into future plans, creative directions, and evolving ideas.

About the Artist

Samia Oldman is the artist and writer behind The Hush Halo. She is a multidisciplinary creator, working across poetry, soundscapes, and visual art.

All works are created and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Care to share a Coffee?

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts 🠟