I started writing this year with no plan and no strategy. If I sat and dwelled on one, measuring it up against every proven system I mastered while working in magazine publishing, and picking it apart until it was perfect, I would’ve never been able to type a word.
Unlearning what I know and learning to write un-restrictively about anything I feel like, anything I feel is stupid enough to rant about, or important enough to platform, has been a lesson in fuck-lessness. I almost always press “publish” with a loud “good-fucking-bye”… never re-reading for typos or imperfect sentence structures or broken links to obsess over, and never really concerned about whatever blacklist I’ll end up on. The words go out into the world, and they’re officially gone from me. Content for engagement, likes, comments, open rates, or even content for the sake of a regular schedule, has never been part of The Weekly Work’s performance plan. I am, however, proud that I’ve been able to keep us mostly on track in spite of everything.
Along the way, I found new heroes and gave space to stories and figures I wouldn’t have known existed had I not been mindlessly scrolling the internet, and its comment sections, for hours. If I didn’t know a story, I assume you didn’t either. If I found something interesting, I assumed you would too. So maybe the front half of my editorial strategy (the one I’m currently making up as I type this) is simply rooted in sharing the stories that mainstream publishers would never touch, especially objectively.
The other half might be more focused on the existing, well-reported terrible things (and people), or positively impactful things (and people), that never announce their plans, but instead breadcrumb them slowly and strategically through mainstream media. The news about your favorite celebrity’s failed business venture, buried under a month of strategically planted stories about how fantastic new (fake) relationship is. You know, the stories about a new multi-million dollar home purchase (five months after actual closing) as some sort of contrived display of prosperity.
Let’s reflect on our last eight months together!
Your Favorite Essay:
A lonely Thanksgiving day post became an unintentional tribute to my former sharecropper grandfather and his cast iron skillet, and became the most liked essay of the year.
Bonus, for those who know:
Your Favorite Round-Up:
My Favorite Post:
I’ll never understand why or how, during an Oppenheimer summer of all summers, so many Hollywood hopefuls decided to lead with blacklisting in their quest for strike solidarity. Months later, as the industry’s Zionists targeted agents, actresses, and other industry figures who spoke in defense of Palestine, many of the same #StrikeTok creators that encouraged blacklisting seem shocked and surprised that it actually exists.
Picking favorites from the rest of the archive is like deciding which twin to save in a house fire. All are favorites, but here are a few that I especially enjoyed putting together:
… Finally understanding Hozier’s Black appeal (and getting a playlist dropped in the comments):
… The city of Philadelphia bombed Delisha Dotson, and the Penn Museum stole her bones:
… A Sweetgreen Harvest Bowl replacement recipe:
… Escaping Chris Rock’s “best friend” in Las Vegas:
… A guy I went on one date with died and his obituary exposed his lies:
… A tribute to Tina Turner:
… Tarte Cosmetics and a beauty conglomerate’s racist coverup:
… Handing out solicited…
… and unsolicited career advice:
… all while reminding y’all that none of it really matters, does it?
What do you want to see more (or less) of in 2024?
Your content brings me joy and makes me feel truly seen. For 2024 I look forward to more joy and more feeling seen. Happy New Year!
I’m sure I speak for many of us when I say, I’ve read every one of your posts this year and loved them all. Thank you for your incredible work sharing personal, professional and culture pieces. You’re incredible, Happy New Year...even though I know your new year started in October (one of my fave posts from the year.) ❤️