2023 Announcement
Desk Notes Changes
Now that it is time to send this announcement into the world, it is probably best to begin at the end: Desk Notes is expanding in 2023.
Regular readers know that I almost never discuss Desk Notes or refer to the publication during my essays, as I prefer to jump right into the writing, but today comes with an exception and some changes. In 2023 there will be more essays, new features, and new subjects to cover, all of which, I do hope, you will appreciate, and all of which, I am certain, result from necessity.
Because once you conclude that much of contemporary literature is sickly and rudderless and banal, you’re left with a decision. You might decide to write regular diatribes about what’s wrong with the state of writing, to aim your most sulfurous, strident words upon all the dull people who believe they’re sharp. Or you might decide to write the essays that you most desire to read, to simply create the sentences that would be commonplace in a more robust literary culture. Of course both decisions do come with merits: the former attempts to take a scalpel to the most inflated personas, to those most in need of deflation, while the latter attempts to boost that which is forgotten or ignored or overlooked.
Even though there’s always an eager market for vindictive essays—and I certainly can’t skim the news without grinding my teeth and stumbling upon countless targets worthy of scorn—that seems a bit indulgent, and is almost certainly a poor use of that most precious resource: the reader’s time. Although I do write the occasional critical essay, my inclination is to concentrate on what’s undervalued, to reveal what’s admirable yet hidden in the shadows, to create rather than simply attack. To live with a lackluster literary culture is a choice, and I end up at the same point nearly every morning—choosing once again to write what I want to read.
And it is fair to say that after 129 essays I’ve settled into a rhythm with Desk Notes. The spectrum of subjects extends from literature to politics to history, yet the basic foundation, in every essay, is that my writing will somehow touch the subject of language, that one universal subject which we all share. A Desk Notes essay might explore a peculiar aspect of contemporary life, highlight a writer who died forty years ago that I desperately want more people to read before she’s forgotten, or complain and vent and pester and yell about the state of contemporary writing, with my foundation, once again, our common language.
Now that I’ve cleared my throat and given you sufficient time to sip your drink, what’s new for 2023? I am introducing a paid subscription tier for Desk Notes and have created several additional features. I do hope that you’ll consider supporting my writing with a paid subscription—it will enable me to continue sending you a weekly Desk Notes essay while also creating these new features:
Language — There’s much more to explore when it comes to words, meaning, usage, etymology, and style. In the past year, these issues have been some of the most popular, but there’s a lot more that I have planned for 2023. This will be a regular feature for paid subscribers.
Contemporary — If you read Desk Notes, you must assume that I have at least a few opinions about the contemporary world that might be called belligerent. Other than some exceptions—such as about contemporary art—I’ve kept those stray thoughts away from Desk Notes, but there’s a lot of topical subjects that I will write about this year, with the spotlight, as always, on language.
Travel — For the first paid subscriber issue next week, I’ll write about standing inside a home in Northern Italy that was, well, on fire. Without slipping too far from literature and language, there’s plenty of similar issues that I have planned for 2023.
Desk Notes will certainly evolve during the year, and is sure to include plenty of new and unexpected and noteworthy subjects that I can’t foresee. There will be a balance between public and paid issues, but the new features above will be reserved for paying subscribers.
A full subscription is $6.00 per month or $60.00 for the entire year. I am extremely grateful for the growing readership here, and I hope that you’ll join me as Desk Notes continues to grow in 2023.
It is worth noting that there are basically two business models for writing today. In the first model, you offer eye-catching headlines that titillate or anger or provoke, trusting that inflamed eyeballs don’t blink but always click, and you attempt to capture enough readers to sell advertisements. At its core this business is clicks and nothing promotes those clicks better that our most visceral urges. In the second model, however, good writing is supported directly through subscriptions and, instantly, all of those perverse incentives have shifted: the writer is now aligned with rather than hostile to the reader. The goal shifts from desperately increasing the amount of readers to increasing the quality of the writing. It shifts away from any desire to provoke for short-term gain and toward a desire to establish a long-term reader.
And these incentives lead right into how I view Desk Notes today: I am thankful for a growing readership that wants me to focus on reflective, deliberate essays, and for the clear signal that Desk Notes should expand. If you have enjoyed reading my writing, and if you have the means to support Desk Notes, then I encourage you to try a subscription—in 2023 there will be new essays and features and I do hope that you’ll join.