Dear Readers,
It’s December 11, just ten days before the solstice, and 24 hours after I decided I would bring Weathered back. While it’s late in the year already—I should have made this decision months ago—publishing one more edition might be valuable. Not only because it’s an El Niño year and we’re looking at very different winters across the country, but because I hope this newsletter brings some thoughtfulness to your week. Weathered was created to frame critique as a form of care, a means toward comfort, and this year we will lean hard toward that notion.
Before the first issue goes out on December 21, there are some logistics to bring to your attention:
After making 2022 a free, no-subscribers-necessary year, I’ll be turning paid subscriptions back on beginning December 21. If you’re already a paid subscriber and would like to cancel or make any changes, please do so!
If you’d like to become a new subscriber, thank you very much, and you can do that beginning on December 21.
Stories might be a bit staggered; again, this is coming late, so please bear with me.
CALL FOR PITCHES
I’m seeking contributors to Weathered: stories should be related to cities and places in the wintertime. I’m particularly keen on those essays, reported stories, and photo essays that speak to larger issues surrounding change and adaptation on larger community, ecological, or social scales. Authors are compensated.
Unfortunately, I cannot take pitches from those residing outside of the United States. Please reach out with story ideas or questions. Also, please tell your friends.
Thank you, as always, for your support and readership.
Anjulie