Life, Values & Legacy: Our Chat with Tyler Tittle

Tyler Tittle shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Tyler, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What do you think others are secretly struggling with—but never say?
I think a lot of people are secretly struggling with the pressure to be seen while not really knowing how to give voice to themselves. We live in a world overflowing with content, but not enough spaces where vulnerability feels safe. I see it all the time in the creative community—writers, artists, content creators, and even self-starters like myself carrying the quiet fear that their voice doesn’t matter. It’s the silence beneath all the noise. That’s one of the reasons I’ve poured so much energy into building my company, Thistle & Thread. Our first operating branch—Thistle & Thread Press was created to be a platform where those voices can take root, where self-expression isn’t just welcomed, it’s encouraged.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Tyler Steven Tittle, I am a poet, maker, and the founder of Thistle & Thread, a creative company devoted to weaving words, design, and community into meaningful spaces. Thistle & Thread Press, our first operating arm, is where that vision takes shape in publishing: an independent micro-press dedicated to poetry collections, chapbooks, and our Field Notes series of writing prompt journals, alongside the upcoming 2026 Field Notes Planner.

At its core, Thistle & Thread is more than a press, it’s an ecosystem. It’s about fostering creative reflection, spotlighting emerging voices, and building tangible tools for self-expression. From my own works like The Leaving Kind, to collaborative features with other poets, every project threads back to the same mission: honoring language as a place of remembering and reimagining.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
I think what most often breaks the bonds between people is silence. Not the kind that comforts, but the kind that festers. The unspoken hurt, unacknowledged difference, the elephant in the room, the failure to really see or hear one another; those are the fractures that widen over time. Distance rarely begins with dramatic endings; it begins with small absences that add up, this was a lesson I learned early on.

What restores those bonds is vulnerability. The willingness to risk being honest, to say the hard thing, to let someone in even when it feels raw. Words are the bridge back, whether they are spoken across a table or written on a page. That’s why I’ve always believed in the work we do at Thistle & Thread: giving people tools to translate that silence into story, to find language where connection feels lost. Because once words return, healing and understanding can follow.

Is there something you miss that no one else knows about?
What I miss the most and what no one hears me say is the innocence of childhood. The way the world once felt boundless and safe, before I knew how heavy grief could become, or how fragile trust really is. There’s a kind of freedom in not yet understanding the shadows. You run through fields, you stay up late playing the latest video game, and you believe the world is mostly kind.

As an adult, that innocence doesn’t return in the same form, but I think we spend our live trying to circle back to it. We want to reclaim that awe, to rediscover wonder, to remember how to see without the weight of our adult cynicism. For me, writing has become that return. Poetry is a way of holding onto fragments of that innocence, you can create space for wonder even when the world has a shroud of darkness looming overhead.

Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
The project I am committed to, no matter how long it takes is building Thistle & Thread into a lasting brand that supports the voices often overlooked. I want it to be a home for the minority voice, the merging writer, the person who has something urgent to say but has never been given the space to say it. At its heart, Thistle & Thread is about more than publishing books; it’s about uplifting community, teaching, creating, and making space where silence once was.

Success for me isn’t just measured in sales or numbers. It’s measured in the rippled effect, in knowing that someone felt seen because of a poem we published, or someone picked up a Field Notes prompt and discovered a new way to describe something they couldn’t name before. That’s the kind of work I’ll spend my whole life building, because it’s not just a project. It’s a purpose.

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. If you laid down your name, role, and possessions—what would remain?
The persistence to create, the love I carry for my family, and the belief that words can outlast us. Titles and objects fade, but the imprint of how we’ve held others and what we’ve made with our hands and voices, that endures.

For me, that means the relationships I’ve built, the community I’ve nurtured, and the poems and prompts that will keep living long after I am gone. Identity isn’t what’s written on a business card; it’s what you’ve sown into others. That’s the part no one can strip away.

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Tyler Steven Tittle

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