Using my Substack to announce that I got a job at Substack
Call me Ishmael (deputy editor).
Each time my life feels like it’s at an inflection point, I watch the Nora Ephron documentary. Lovingly directed by her son Jacob (also a writer) after her death, it’s a film that helps the viewer understand why Nora did All Of That — who she was and how she saw the world and, more importantly, herself. It’s a movie about a writer, yes, but in reality it’s about conviction, about knowing yourself, knowing what you like, knowing what you don’t like, and being unafraid to say it, unafraid to try.
In a past life, I worked with Jacob and, years later, bumped into him at Cardi B’s Met Gala afterparty (lol). Over a blaring DJ set, I screamed into his ear “IT’S SO NICE TO SEE YOU! THE DOCUMENTARY YOU MADE ABOUT YOUR MOM MADE ME CRY! IT’S SO WELL DONE!” and woke up the next morning with scaries of biblical proportions.
I watch the documentary in part to reorient myself, to hear myself in the choir of voices telling me who to be and what to be and when to be it. It’s what I put on whenever I feel misunderstood or uncertain to remind me that those I revere have not only felt this way too, but maneuvered through it victorious. As an adult I’ve drifted away from organized religion as a way of life and have, instead, replaced all pious texts with this movie instead. It is my holy grail. When HBO took the film off streaming (a crime), I bought a DVD (this and Elf are the only two movies I physically own) because I was certain I could not spend the rest of my life, let alone the year, not watching it.
Nora is to me what Dorothy Parker, at one time, was to her: a North Star for women who would like to consider themselves witty, precocious and are sometimes mistaken for cunts. “The point is the legend,” she wrote in a column for Esquire. “I grew up on it and coveted it desperately. All I wanted in this world was to come to New York and be Dorothy Parker. The funny lady. The only lady at the table.” At some point, after diving deeper into Dorothy’s work, and after concluding her writing was actually “so embarrassing,” the pedestal Nora had once placed Dorothy on all but crumbled.
“Before one looked too hard at it,” she wrote, “it was a lovely myth.” That spell, at least when it comes to Nora, has yet to break for me. In truth, it’s likely because her work isn’t the point, though I Feel Bad About My Neck is a seminal piece of writing that should be federally-mandated, required reading for every woman once they turn 25. To me, Nora’s legend and lore is about her personhood, about being decisive and following your instincts. Often, it got her in trouble, but it nearly always got her what she wanted. It’s why, each time I’ve tried writing about my new job and my new world, I’ve started writing about Nora instead. She trusted her gut. She wrote in her own way. She bit when she needed to bite. And god, it seems like she loved having fun, and she took that fun seriously. She allowed herself the courtesy of enjoying new endeavors — screenwriting, playwriting, directing — tossing her hat in the ring and jumping in after it. That’s what I want this next chapter to look like, to feel like.
My four years at New York Magazine and The Cut were unforgettable. I had the job a million girls would kill for, and what I learned there quite literally could not be taught without living it. I did everything I had ever wanted to do (Cover stories! Scene reports! Big ass features! Trips to Shanghai, Copenhagen, and Montclair, New Jersey!!!!) and then some. I never knew a person could be afforded so many opportunities, and I will take that with me forever. For now, though, it’s time to leap.
Okay…? What’s your new role though…?
Right, great q. I’m now deputy editor at Substack, where I’ll be helping spearhead editorial alongside the amazing team here. You’ll mainly see that materialize on The Substack Post (watch this space, etc. etc.).
What does that mean for your work?
I’ll be curating The Weekender and commissioning writers to work on some delicious pieces for The Post. I’ll still be writing (HMU, don’t be shy!!!) because I would combust otherwise.
What does that mean for this newsletter?
More consistency and a mild expansion. This world typically serves as space for my inner monologue, or inside voice, and while that’s still going to be the crux, going forward, I’ll be semi-regularly writing pieces about the outside world (mini scene reports, takes on cultural moments, the occasional q+a). Basically this newsletter is undergoing a mini transformation akin to Pinocchio finally becoming a real boy — going to look and sound the same but, like, kinda different when you look at it in a certain light.
That’s all for now! Bye!
this is so sick congrats 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🧿
woohoo! congrats girl!