Weeklies

Dear Readers,

First, a few links. I️ edited Substack Reads a couple weeks ago. It was fun to read a whole bunch of newsletters. You can see my picks here.

There are a couple newsletters I️ didn’t include in my list because it felt too muddy. Deb Copaken interviewed me for her newsletter a little while ago, but I️ also just love her newsletter (and her books, too! Start with Ladyparts) and think you should read it. Can you also read Jenny Rosenstrach’s Dinner: A Love Story? I️ love Jenny’s first cookbook - the Weekday Vegetarians - a lot, and use it. She also happens to be married to my editor - hence the muddiness.

And I️ was a guest on Elizabeth Gilbert’s Letter from Love newsletter this week. Writing myself a letter was a meaningful, jolt-of-fun-and-clarity exercise - I️ recommend this newsletter so highly. It comes with writing prompts. (Full disclosure: I️ haven’t read this week’s letter yet, the one I’m in, because I️ am SHY. About to read it after I️ hit post).

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Spending more time than usual with newsletters these past few weeks has gotten me to think about how mine is kind of an anti-newsletter. It’s internal; I like to pretend you aren’t reading it (and maybe you aren’t). Until recently, I figured being a classic newsletter-writer was something you were born with: it goes with being open, able to connect intimately with strangers. Meanwhile, I’m a social media person: I like to perform superficially for strangers in quick bursts. Writing a newsletter felt less to me like performing than like being followed backstage.

I don’t think this characterization of connector vs performer was totally accurate, though. The complete truth is that I’ve been living in a small, dark, cozy new-motherhood cave these past few years – a cave feathered partly with love and joy, partly with overwhelm and life-shrinkage – and that the idea of communicating meaningfully with anyone outside my small network has been unfathomable. And not because I️ don’t want to write/draw anymore, but because my reasons for communicating have changed drastically since I️ became a mother. Needs I met through my work (need for connection, need to feel useful) are now being met by my family. Other needs have arisen. The need to be less of an adult all the time.

So maybe I’ll continue to a little bit of experimenting with form n’ content over here (Is there a less exhausting way to frame that? I️ want to take a nap). For now, here’s a comic about how weird it is being the adult.

You can still order my book about new parenthood here.

For paid subscribers, an interactive question (see: threads): what is something small (or “small”) that infuriates or irritates you? I’ll choose a few to illustrate in next week’s newsletter - and will advise if I can.

Also some very obvious advice for people who trying to work next to a loudly yawning person, thoughts on the term “misophonia,” and some She Devil. Thank you!