6. I get by with a little help from my friends.
Here are some nepobabyesque newsletter recommendations.
I love being the person who “knows a guy.” Need a new job? I’m the guy. Need someone who knows every type of guy you’d ever need? I’ve got you. I have a pet portraitist. I have a rum cake guy. (I buy three at a time to keep in my freezer.) I have photographers you can hire to shoot your wedding and a vet that does house calls and I love knowing a guy and when you need one, supplying that guy.
I wanted to shout out some friends’ (and a few people I’d like to be friends with’s) newsletters you might also enjoy:
Hattie Hayes is one of my best friends and I have been bugging her nonstop since January to let me read the new edits on her novel in progress. Whenever it comes out, it will be my book of the year. I wish I could scream at you about how scintillating the premise is, I truly do.
Hattie runs a newsletter about writing, especially poetry. Each Monday she offers a poetry prompt, and her other weekly posts include her own personal progress on her writing projects, life updates, and my favorite part: things she wanted to buy but didn’t. If you’re a writer or just want to sustain your creative flow, I heartily recommend.
My buddy Hambone created a newsletter, in part inspired by me launching this one! I’ve found his posts to be delightful - especially this one about 1984’s Radioactive Dreams, a movie that decided to name its Blast from the Past-style nuclear holocust-cum-private eyes Phillip Hammer and Marlow Chandler (also I’m sorry “Holocaust” and “cum” are in such tight proximity). Hambone is your go-to for…Jersey pop punk, comic book adaptations, Dungeons and Dragons, shitty 80’s movies, and general geekery. He’s wonderful.
Here is Radioactive Dreams, by the way. Can I recommend it, without drugs involved? No. Does the soundtrack fucking whip ass? Fuck yes.
Noa Bourne waited eight hours to get us Taylor Swift tickets, and recommending her newsletter is the least I can do in return. Noa issues, every day, some vague tweet about a celebrity scandal I had no idea was about to implode but implode it always does. She knows everything. It’s truly terrifying and I believe she is the next Tree Paine.
My friend Zeba Blay writes (beautifully, always) about Blackness and its intersections with womanhood, body image, capitalism, art, and mental health. She is of a rare gift, and her book of essays Carefree Black Girls is entirely worth a read.
I don’t know Will personally, but I listen to his Get A Load of This song selection every day. It is one of the reasons I started a Substack of my own. Mink DeVille and the Italian band MIRAGE are some recent favorites.
Hunter Harris’s Hung Up newsletter is the thing I look forward to most every single week. I would pay double what I pay now for full access to her newsletter. The funniest person. An inspiration to me creating mine.
Tabitha Arnold is a buddy I met on Twitter during the pandemic, and a staggering textile artist, who uses her looms to create visceral visual commentaries on the plight and power of workers. Tabitha’s work led me to discover arpilleristas, and her newsletter discusses her artistic process as well as applying her progressive activism with her new life in the South.
My friend Chloe Brooks is a burnout expert and has put together a newsletter reminding us all that rest is a virtue. In our capitalist hellscape, these reminders are oft needed, and Chloe is the right patient, considerate resource. Sign up and learn how to chill the fuck out.
Today, also, in bitches be recommendin’:
Jessica Chastain in A Doll’s House, now on Broadway: I have a ticket this week to see it, for the second time. She is nothing short of a revelation in it. Beyond the very last two minutes of the show, I had no idea what the story entailed, and I was genuinely surprised at every turn. I also just perceive her to be an earnest and kind person, a theater kid in every way, and we’re all allowed to have one (to seven). For example, I am always recommending Jeremy Strong. Just his existence.
“Children of the Empire” by Weyes Blood, which has been on repeat for 54 hours.
Supporting the WGA strike. I would not be the person I am without The Nanny, VH1’s I Love the 80’s, and Max Greenfield’s execution of enunciation anarchy each week on New Girl. TV made me, shaped me, loved me into being, and I’m not fucking kidding. The people, united, will never be defeated.
Love you bitches, thank you for reading,
TG