Where I Speculate Wildly About Why You Subscribed
Because you don't take yourself too seriously? I mean, here's hoping.
I did it, I finally did it! I wrote an About section for this newsletter.
Were there a few words there before? Yes. Did I feel like they adequately explained the breadth of this corner of the Substack literary universe? No, I did not. Did I promptly set about writing a new version? Why would I ever do such a thing? Instead I only thought about it endlessly and in the kind of fits and starts that amount to the visual equivalent of a rubber wedge thingie you jam underneath a door to keep it open.
Despite writing this newsletter for almost three years, I’ve always thought it best if I focused on the writing. Which, let’s all gather hands in support, we know I barely accomplish.
Most of the time I think it’s worth waiting to figure out what you’re writing before you go ahead and try to define it. Here’s what I’ve finally written about Flop Era:
This is a newsletter full of underachieving bad choices, and good stories. It’s super good fun.
I think I can live with that. At the very least it means I can point and say, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU SIGNED UP FOR when I write something that doesn’t land and someone who puts their feelings on one outrage at a time wants to pretend I’m not highly sensitive and also dead inside.
But the really fun part was thinking about what makes a Flop Era reader. In short, you’re probably filled with idiosyncratic interests, an irreverent sense of observational humor, come with a standard-issue depressive setting, have a deep investment in pop culture, and get a bit anxious over an odd number of mozzarella sticks arriving as an appetizer. Plus, you’re probably a writer. Or some kind of artist.
If you’re none of none of these things, I appreciate you pulling up a chair like this is a natural science museum display behind glass. You matter too!
But I made an even longer list for the uninitiated among us who haven’t subscribed yet, and it goes like this:
Flop Era is for you if:
Your moral compass comes from John Candy in Uncle Buck
You have no problem saying, “I like Ewoks”
You have not watched a single episode of Succession
You consider your cat’s nap schedule—hell, her entire existence really—a protest against late-stage capitalism
You would never say something offensive like, “I’ll have a water”
You should be writing, but it can wait
You might be asking yourself, “What happens if my depression is depressed?”
You think the Oxford comma can go pound sand
You’re an inexhaustible well of sage wisdom and complex inadequacies because your family is sloppy
You’ll mow a bitch down to get into an indie book store
One time David Sedaris wrote “Friendship is a cancer” and you’ve never laughed so hard in your life because isn’t it?
You will top the dumbest thing you ever said at least twice a week
You think the only hologram worth its cost is the one that puts Joan Rivers back on the red carpet
You have bottomed out at least three times in your life because the first two don’t even count
You will absolutely pull up to a conversation about ‘90s R&B with feelings and recs
You are a Dorothy Zbornak type
You deeply identity with this Marc Maron quote: “I just know [this] is a room full of people that had maybe one good parent. Maybe. A big room full of broken toys here. Every day is a fucking challenge and you’re overly sensitive and just battling dread all the time wondering if you’re talented.”
Finally, I wrote:
Welcome to the mess, let’s have some fun. Be a bit sad. Tell some stories, dive into things that don’t really mean anything except mean something to us while trying to be the best version of our egomaniacal, deeply flawed selves with unhelpful coping mechanisms and irreverent anecdotes that I guess could be a party trick if we were at a terrible party—which is the only kind we’d be invited to.
When in doubt, consider Prince Harry is out in these streets telling stories about his frozen moose knuckle, so, yeah, we’re gonna be just fine.
CURRENTLY
👻 Reading: How to Sell a Haunted House
This is my fourth Grady Hendrix book, and I highly recommend.
❄️ Watching: Cocaine Bear
This movie was fun as hell, and I went in with all the hype. It delivered. Congrats to Elizabeth Banks, actress over 45, who just directed her
firstthird movie.
👗 Sharing: Onion Cut & Sewn makes “effortless clothes that feel like lotion”
I can confirm this is true. From shift to wrap dresses and comfy separates that wear like liquid; I helped style my kid for prom in one of Whitney Mero’s dusters and she was a showstopper. Follow Onion on Instagram for flash sales. Sizes 0-26.
💚 Listening: Green Honda by Benee
This infectious pop song has been stuck in my head for a week.
THANK YOU for subscribing to Flop Era. Tap on that heart button because it really does help people discover my writing.
Where I Speculate Wildly About Why You Subscribed
Whew, I was worried about your opinion on the Oxford comma, but it was more than made up for with the Succession and Dorothy Z. comments. (PS - Elizabeth Banks directed one of the Pitch Perfect movies and the most recent Charlie's Angels.)
I'm a new Flop Era reader who is indiscriminate with my phone number and insist that my young adult children use my number instead of theirs so I get alllll the rewards. I'd love to see Joan Rivers take on 'influencers' and I broke a few toes a few years ago and my feet have never been the same since.
Looking forward to it all!