Last year you called the project a magazine. This year it looks more like a gathering. People still quote the first description back to you, sometimes with the cheerful certainty of those who were never required to make the thing. You worry that changing the form will sound like losing faith.

Some changes are evasions. Others are discoveries made by doing the work. The difference deserves examination, not a slogan. What did you learn from readers, participants or the making itself? Which promise still matters? Which part of the old form made that promise harder to keep? The question belongs to the Permission realm of the Creative Hero’s Journey and its book, I’m Done Asking.

A useful change has a lineage. Tell the people affected what will be different and what you are carrying forward. If someone paid for the magazine, you owe them a clear account of what happens to that commitment. If a collaborator agreed to work under one set of terms, a new format may need a new agreement. Freedom to revise your plan does not erase other people’s reasonable expectations.

Yet fidelity to the first sentence can become its own kind of performance. The person you were when you began had only the evidence available then. Let her be intelligent enough to have started and humble enough to learn. You do not need to turn an early description into a lifelong sentence.

Making decisions you can stand behind also means remaining answerable to real people. Sometimes the next decision is to alter one you made with care. After Success, Begin Again follows this question into the life of a project that has already reached its first destination.

The name may change. The invitation can remain. Say what you have learned, honour the agreements and let the work answer to what it has learned.