My dear CVs,
I thought, as an addendum to my first installment, it’d be nice to follow up with accounts and newsletters I enjoy, particularly those that fall under the umbrella of Cornflake Victorian. This missive is free, and honestly, I wish that they all could be. But at the present time it is financially impossible for me to write without some monetary compensation. So, the next full installment, which I’ll send in early June, will be exclusive to paying subscribers, as the rest will be for the foreseeable future. I will do my best to include free dispatches, I promise. But we all know that it’s hard out here for a writer. In any case, if you want to be sure you’ll receive the next newsletter, sign up via this post. If you would like to receive Cornflake Victorians but simply cannot afford it, let me know, and we’ll work something out.
Otherwise…
Now then!
I began this newsletter because I was inspired by others who embarked on this endeavor before me, and I’d love to tell you about them, and to encourage you to subscribe to them if you don’t already do so.
Helena Fitzgerald writes the luminous Griefbacon, an essay newsletter that is personal and vast and exquisitely attuned to the minute particulars of life.
Grace Lavery writes The Stage Mirror, which is a master class in bringing together rigorous intellect, Victoriana, capacious empathy, and personal storytelling.
Two Bossy Dames (Margaret and Sophie) are responsible for the brilliant newsletter by the same name, which brings together insightful pop culture musings, delightful wit, and a great deal of period piece enthusiasm.
I can’t even watch horror movies, but I wouldn’t miss Emily Hughes’s Nightmare Fuel for the world. She is a discerning reader NOT to be reckoned with, and if she tells you to read something, you ought to do so immediately.
Julia Carpenter’s A Woman to Know is rigorously researched and such a crucial project in a landscape that compulsively and systemically forgets the women who have made this world more livable.
Mara Wilson’s Shan’t We Tell the Vicar? not only has the most perfect title, but is so witty and thoughtful and warm.
Of course I subscribe to Nicole Cliffe’s Nicole Knows. I’d read her grocery lists. Give yourself this treat.
I’m not a Mom, though I hope to be, and still I subscribe to Sady Doyle’s Momism. And particularly in this dreadful political climate, I turn to her.
Anne Helen Petersen’s The Collected AHP is free and weekly and I highly recommend it. It’s really well done, and is frankly a gift.
Finally, I just upgraded to Lyz Lenz’s Men Yell At Me because it’s too good, and I don’t want to miss a thing. Lyz cuts through bullshit like a hot knife through butter (Quick! Who uses this simile in the 1998 Great Expectations adaptation that was the focus of our first installment? I do love a throwback.)
It’s entirely possible that I subscribe to more, and if I think of them, I’ll be sure to include links in future newsletters. I resist the notion that these newsletters will save journalism—we are never saved by one thing; silver bullets are a fantasy—and while I’m already thoroughly enjoying this, I bristle at the idea that paid subscription newsletters mitigate the low wages and precarity that are so inherent to the labor of freelance writers. But in the meantime, this is one way that we support one another, and I do believe in that. We are one another’s Medicis.
When it comes to Victoriana, I turn to all sorts of places. I’m a fan of the V21 Collective, and of course I love Grace Lavery’s The Stage Mirror, as I’ve already mentioned. The Victorian Web is another fantastic resource if you don’t already know it. I also love following Romanticist Anne C. McCarthy, Claire Jarvis, Kate Hamill, a brilliant playwright who recently adapted Vanity Fair, K. Handozo, Kate Washington, and, obviously, my brilliant bestie Leigha McReynolds.
For 90s delights, may I humbly suggest following the Instagram accounts for podcasts girlymags and Capsule98, and of course listening in as well—they do 90s pop culture in such a vivid and loving way. And if you’re not already following Slayerfest 98, a fantastic Buffy the Vampire Slayer-themed podcast—I’ve been honored to be a guest three times, which makes me an official Scooby, I believe—subscribe posthaste. Host Ian Carlos is a delight. I should also warn you in advance that Buffy is and forever will be my very favorite show, and that we’ll certainly be delving into that topic here on Cornflake Victorians.
It’s time for me to sign off, but before I do, please permit me another aggravating reminder that my book is on preorder and because preorders and first week sales are so extraordinarily important, I must be a little obnoxious about this for the upcoming months. And now, as a palate cleanser, let’s end with some musical 90s delights, shall we?
And one especially for my Mom:
Until June, my loves!
RVC