Christine: Good afternoon! I hope this email finds you sipping a hot cup of coffee and leisurely reading NYT on your phone. Or maybe you’re on the subway, heading to lunch with friends. You may even be hungover and still in bed. However this email finds you, we’re glad it found you.
We were planning to send this yesterday, and then I had a bonkers day, so it’s coming to you as a breezy weekend edition. It’s been a while since we’ve been in your inbox, but we’re back and happy to see you. Today, we’re looking forward to the new year through two important lenses: books and everything else.
Taylore: Hello, hello. I’m writing this as I scarf down an over-cooked omelette in LGA’s Terminal D, so please excuse the brevity of my section. My flight has been cancelled and re-booked three times so far, and I can only hope that by the time you read this I’m pleasantly tipsy at my friend Melissa’s rehearsal dinner. It’s giving Planes, Trains, and Automobiles with less comic relief and more plague.
One big update since our last letter, I got a new job! I'm handling all things wellness at Allure, so for the writers reading this, feel free to pitch your hearts out. Smaller update: I am now a mother of three thriving plants — a palm, a monstera, and a pothos — which is growth for me, since I tend to euthanize anything with chlorophyll.
With that, here’s my list of Shit I’m Getting Into in 2022.
Salsa classes: There are a few reasons this is something I'm set on this year. 1) My insomnia loves Dancetok. Last night, I was consumed by couples in '30s-style ‘fits doing the charleston, the night prior was a deep dive into the spins and lifts of country swing dancing. But salsa seems like the most versatile for going out, and there’s a block in my neighborhood that blocks off traffic and blasts music once a week so everyone can salsa and bachata with abandon. I am desperate to join them. 2) I cheered and danced for most of my life, and dance-cardio just doesn't scratch that specific athletic itch. I miss the challenge of learning choreography and leveling up when I master a step or combo. 3. Stephen has a penchant for sending me intensely horny Spanish music in the middle of the day and then translating the lyrics for me. I've now got a whole playlist of songs begging to be danced to.
My Regal Unlimited membership: As I've mentioned, I fucking love going to the movies, and pre-Omicron I was overjoyed to be hitting my local theater on the reg. A friend turned me on to their monthly membership (it’s like $20 bucks a month for one movie each week) so once I feel comfy sitting in a crowded theater again, I'm hoping to make it a regular Sunday thing.
Learning to knit: I actually really enjoy the repetition of crafting and the like, which I didn't discover until college. I wasn't in a sorority, but when my friends were utterly sleep-deprived during rush, I'd tell them to go take a nap while I finished their assigned crafts for their “big” or some other sister. I'd spend hours decorating wine bottles and poster board, pensively hot glueing technicolor rhinestones in the shape of Greek letters. The night before my own graduation, I came home from the bar and giddily adorned my own graduation cap with a glittery, Khaleesi-adjacent dragon as the sun rose. (This was years before that King Bran mess, obviously.) I also did something exceedingly dumb by forgetting to leave my bedroom window open to air out the fumes from the professional-grade adhesive I was using before I fell asleep, so I woke up aggressively glue-high. All that said, I find that sort of working with my hands to be really relaxing, and I love the idea of making my friends silly little matching hats.
Writing at least 10 poems I don't hate: I hate highly-specific resolutions (and the idea of resolutions in general) but I feel like I have to put a number on this one for the sake of making progress. I used to write a lot of poetry, and was even in the habit of submitting it. But for the past couple years, I've been finding it really hard to code-switch between my typical work and my personal writing. Not sure if any other writers here feel the same way, but that part of my brain feels hopelessly rusty. The more new poetry I consume the more it helps, though, so my plan is to load up on some new collections (would love reccs if anyone’s got them!) and just force myself to write something, anything, even if it sucks. And hopefully by the end of 2022, I'll have some work worth sticking with.
Conquer the cassoulet: I'll say it once more. This will be the year!
Finding my perfect retinol: My skin is dry and redness-prone, so I've been putting this one off. I've tested a few formulas short-term, but my skin never gets past that necessary breaking-in period and the flaking got too aggressive (retinol can really dry you out, especially if you don't start off slow with application.) But my forehead is looking a little less smooth lately, so it feels like a nice time to give the process another go.
CHRISTINE: “Shit I’m Looking Forward to in 2022”
A Solo NOLA Trip
New Orleans is one of my favorite cities in the world, and it’s been on my mind a lot lately. I keep trying to get friends to plan a trip there with me, which hasn’t yet worked out, so maybe I’ll take it as a sign that this should be a Christine-only trip. The last time I went somewhere by myself was Copenhagen in 2017 (woof), but I love the sort of meditative aspect of traveling alone. Maybe it’s time.
Becoming Failure Agnostic
For far too long, my approach has been that if I’m doing something poorly, it means I should stop because:
a) it’s embarrassing to make terrible things
b) making terrible things means that I’m terrible.
This has led me, of course, to not do a lot of things that I wanted to do. It’s also meant that I’m not pleased with a lot of what I’ve actually accomplished because I’ve aimed too low and I know it. This year, I’m trying to push myself to do the things (a screenplay, a short story, learning how to paint), instead of endlessly worrying about how badly I’ll do them. That part of my brain also feels hopelessly rusty, Taylore! I also think I’ll try believing something like “If I had the idea to do ___, that means it’s something I can do,” which may be patently false, but seems like a useful and harmless thing to believe.
I love anything in a solid jewel-tone color. I owned this mug for about a year, which I used daily as a water mug, before it broke (and I almost cried ha).
After a few years of playing it fast and loose with my finances, I’m working to be more financially responsible this year, meaning I’m waiting a bit to repurchase the water mug. Honestly, it’s agonizing. Why don’t I just do it? It would spark so much joy! I think! But, not doing things you want right when you want them builds character or something.
Less Screen Time
My ADHD has never been worse, and my screen time is out of control. I feel like one of those gooey semi-human life forms hooked up to the Matrix. I don’t yet have a strong plan for accomplishing cutting back on my screen time, but I know it needs to happen. If you have tips on this, please share!
More Movie Watching
Lol. After that dramatic declaration, I should admit that I am looking to add one specific form of screen time to my life, which is watching movies. I just subscribed to the Criterion Channel and am looking forward to spending some time with Jane Campion, Aki Kaurismaki, and Claire Denis. I think what I’ll end up doing is setting aside a day and time each week as a movie date for myself. I’ll order in lunch, brew a cup of tea, and make an afternoon of it. Lovely.
AND NOW, BOOKS
Christine: I start a new Google doc each January to track the books I read that year, so I’m thinking a lot about what I get to/want to read in 2022, as well as my favorite books from last year. Taylore and I thought it might be fun to share a few of our picks, plus some picks from some friends of the newsletter.
Christine, resident cheese monster
Loved in 2021: On Immunity, An Inoculation by Eula Biss. Writer Eula Biss recounts her choice to vaccinate her son, exploring the fear and vulnerability and irrationality that we experience as humans reckoning daily with forces larger than ourselves. Published in 2014, but could not be more relevant today (especially if you, like me, have vaccine-averse family members).
To Read in 2022: Orwell’s Roses by Rebecca Solnit. Solnit’s newest book explores the life of writer George Orwell through the lens of Orwell’s love for gardening. Such a brilliant concept, and if I know Rebecca Solnit, there are sure to be delightful meanderings into adjacent topics and territories. Can’t wait.
Taylore, who’s writing this on her phone mid-haircut
Loved in 2021: I've seen the movie a handful of times, but I finally got around to reading Interview with the Vampire. I couldn't believe how much of the novel's emotional depth the movie failed to capture, especially regarding key relationships that aren't inherently sexual but remain deeply devotional and reverent. Anne Rice (RIP) mostly forgoes those short bursts of shocking lust-violence that vampire stories often lean on in favor of a more subtle eroticism — desire not for the body, but for a meaningful afterlife.
To Read in 2022: I just started Our Country Friends by Gary Shteyngart. I enjoyed Super Sad True Love Story when I read it years ago, and I've heard rave reviews about his newest novel. I also just love stories about agents of chaos being trapped in awkward situations with each other, so this checks the box.
Maria Del Russo, author and writer of the newsletter can’t relate
Loved in 2021: The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. The first book in a long time that made me cry actual human tears. It’s a retelling of the Iliad from the perspective of Patroclus, who was Achilles’ closest companion. A gorgeous love story. You’ll burn through it.
To Read in 2022: Manhattan, When I Was Young by Mary Cantwell. It’s a classic that I haven’t read, but I’ve been drawn to books that are set in Manhattan in the ‘60s. (I recently reread The Bell Jar, too!) I also feel like, now that I’m closing in on my mid-30s, I’ve been nostalgic about my life as a writer in my 20s. So a memoir that parallels that in any way is probably going to tickle my brain.
Erika Veurink, a freelance writer and author of the forthcoming newsletter Long Live
Loved in 2021: Reading My Year Abroad by Chang-Rae Lee over the holiday break was just the right mix of escapism and thought-provoking. Winter's the best time for doorstop novels. This one about pleasure, entrepreneurialism, and everybody's favorite, the New Jersey suburbs, doesn't disappoint.
To Read in 2022: I'm on the edge of my seat to read Sarah Manguso's first novel, Very Cold People. If you're new to her work, try Ongoingness, a short meditation on keeping a diary and memory.
Tanya Sichynsky, senior staff editor at NYT Cooking
Loved in 2021: It is pretty embarrassing to admit, but I barely read at all in 2021. My brain physically could not complete a single book (I started The Vanishing Half and, you guessed it, Beautiful World, Where Are You, and they are scattered across my apartment, still unfinished). I read so much for work that I rarely find pleasure in it most days, but I really want to change that in the new year (those end-of-year book roundups on everyone's Instagram stories really shamed the hell out of me).
To Read in 2022: I have intentionally placed The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, which is neither new to the world nor new to my bookshelf, on the coffee table with the explicit intention of reading it when I'm doing nothing on the couch. I crave drama that is not of my own life nor a product of our dystopian reality, and I have heard that it excels in providing it. The titular character is a fictional Hollywood legend who, in her old age, provides one last interview to a journalist. I mean come on, sign me up.
Ama Kwarteng, beauty editor at Coveteur
Loved in 2021: I Am Not Ashamed by Barbara Payton. Though the masses probably aren’t aware of her name, Barbara Payton was the star in 1950s Hollywood, starring in films alongside men like Gregory Peck and Gary Cooper, until her entanglement with addiction sent her on a dizzying decline. Don’t confuse this for your typical, blasé Hollywood memoir—Payton's prose is honest and intimate. It’s hard not to be captivated by her voice and the downward spiral.
To Read in 2022: Bad Behavior by Mary Gaitskill. I’m working on a short story about a narcissistic mother with a LOT of issues and I’m having trouble nailing the third-person point of view, so I’m turning to Mary Gaitskill to help me out. This is a collection of sharp, chilling, and complex stories about women who are, for the lack of a better phrase, low-key fucked up..
Laura Delarato, body image advocate, creative director at Vox Media, and author of the newsletter Hey Laura and forthcoming book My Pleasure: An Intimate Guide to Loving Your Body and Having Great Sex
Loved in 2021: My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh. The dark humor is unmatched as we follow an unnamed and completely unlikeable character in 2000 as she lives off sleeping pills and anti-psychotic medications to sleep as much as possible throughout the day — but has an entire life during her bouts of sleep walking, flaking on her best friend, and coping with the loss of her parents.
To Read in 2022: I am the most Italian person who has no idea how to be Italian human ever, and this year I've decided to dive right in and connect with my ancestry and heritage . . . I'm getting pretty far in basic Italian Duolingo! I just got "Old World Italian: Recipes and Secrets from Our Travels in Italy: A Cookbook" by Mimi Thorisson, and it's this big, mix of recipes, stories, and conversations dedicated to Italian culture, cooking, and techniques. Now, am I going to be a famed pasta maker? Probably not. But the hows and whys fascinate me.
Natalie Pelletier, actor, writer, and sommelier
Loved in 2021: What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding by Kristin Newman Full transparency, I hadn't heard of this book until I auditioned for the pilot (based on the memoir) in mid 2021. And damn it was just the pick-me-up I needed. Having done some solo traveling, her hilarious, heartfelt and wild travel tales made me feel like I found a kindred spirit (and that being single in your 30s is a gift not a curse).
To Read in 2022: Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. Another memoir (I can't resist!) about singer-songwriter Michelle Zauner's struggles with grief and identity all with food as the backbone of the book. Truly can't wait to dive in because so many friends said they devoured it in days.
Team Digestivo, comprised of our writer/food friends Salonee Bhaman and Jake Stavis. If you don’t already subscribe to their charming newsletter, please do.
Salonee
Loved in 2021: The book that pushed me out of my end of year literary impasse was Deacon King Kong by James McBride; it was cinematic and captivating and just enough escape to get me reading again.
To Read in 2022: I’m currently reading Anna Karenina, slowly, as my bedtime book; it’s perfect to nod off to. I’m also really looking forward to finally reading Sarah Jaffe’s Work Won’t Love You Back when it’s out in paperback in a couple of weeks and Mayukh Sen’s tastemakers when I can steal Jake’s copy
Jake
Loved in 2021: Aside from Mayukh’s aforementioned page-turner, I’d happily recommend John Birdsall’s recent biography of James Beard, The Man Who Ate Too Much – poignant, provocative, and unafraid to tackle all things, you know… (gay).
To Read in 2022: Happy All the Time by Laurie Colwin, my first foray into her work beyond food writing. (If you haven’t read Home Cooking, start there; pairs perfectly with her weeknight friendly and mustard baked chicken.)
One more note from some friends of the letter below, but, thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far and we’ll see you in a couple weeks! xx
A WORD FROM THE ANNE SAXELBY LEGACY FUND
Do you know someone between the age of 17-22 who’s hoping to get into food and farming? The Anne Saxelby Legacy Fund provides monthlong paid apprenticeships for young adults to live on sustainable farms — to work, learn, and be inspired to create change in their communities, and is looking for applicants. More information on the application process can be found here.