Lessons from 12 weeks of writing about menopause
Plus, links to what I'm watching, reading and listening to over the holidays.
Time flies when you’re having fun.
Here we are at week 12 (!) of this newsletter, and as we approach the holidays (and The 19th’s annual holiday break), I just wanted to let you all know how much fun I am having with you and how grateful I am for this engaged, thoughtful community.
Please know I have read every email, every Instagram comment, and if you’re sending a message via carrier pigeon, rest assured I’ll read that when it gets here, too. Thank you for sharing so generously — your voices have made each issue all the richer. Truly truly: Thank you.
I wanted to share three takeaways from what I have learned over these past few months of reporting and writing this newsletter.
We really need more research. So much more research. There is still so much we don’t know. Anyone saying they know definitely that “x” fix is guaranteed to give “y” result because of ”‘z” irrefutable fact? I would largely proceed with caution.
We really need better representation — in all the ways. This is also about research — but it’s also about the faces we see talking about menopause, both the health and science and the cultural conversation.
We really need one another. Talking to one another, and keeping it real, is essential: The more we share, the more we normalize.
This newsletter was planned as a 12-week experiment, but the enthusiastic reaction from you all means we’re going to keep going in 2026. We’ll be back in your inbox on Tuesday, January 13.
I cannot wait to connect with you all again and keep at this exploration of all things menopause with you! In the meantime, you can read all 12 issues of the newsletter for free on Substack.
As we move into the chaos (let’s just call it like it is) of this time of year, I wanted to share what I’m most excited to read, listen to and watch this holiday season. (Psst — this is 100 percent affiliate-link-free.)
📚What I’m reading
“If You Love It, Let It Kill You” (Hannah Pittard)
I have been waiting a full six months to have the time and headspace to take on this autofiction-esque romp through one woman’s divorce after she discovers her husband is having an affair with her best friend. (Yes, this really happened to the author.) Then she learns that she and her ex are both writing novels about what happened. (Yes, this really happened to the author.) Enter: a midlife crisis and a talking cat.
“The Pelican Child” (Joy Williams)
I like to think of myself as a (reformed?) punk kid … but I am a total rule follower and complete nerd. All of this is to say, the work of Joy Williams (inveterate punk, absolutely masterful writer) always speaks to me with its mix of the weird and the mundane and her constant questioning about the boxes society likes to put women into. The New York Times described Williams’ latest, a collection of short stories, as “delightfully unhinged” and truly — say less.
“The Harder I Fight the More I Love You” (Neko Case)
I kicked this newsletter off talking about my excitement for Case’s new album, so you know I am equally excited to finally sit down and read her memoir about how a childhood marked by poverty, the rural Pacific Northwest, and loneliness led to a life of such immeasurable creativity.
“Origin Stories” (Corinna Vallianatos)
I always saw myself as a novel girl — until a few years ago, when suddenly all I craved were short stories, with their flashes of narrative that find new ways to illuminate daily life. This collection has been getting rave reviews — and when do I not want to read about what it means to be a woman who is also a mother and a wife and a writer figuring out what all those words mean when held together?
“Katabasis” (R.F. Kuang)
The holiday season is made for novels that get slapped with the “dark academia” label. (Try Mona Awad’s “Bunny” and its just-released sequel, “We Love You, Bunny” while you’re at it.) Kuang is a fantasy writer for people who don’t think they like fantasy writing. I can’t wait to dig in to her latest, a doorstopper of a novel about some grad students at Cambridge who accidentally kill their professor through unintentional usage of dark magic and now must effectively journey through hell to rescue him — and get some letters of recommendation.
🎧 What I’m listening to
“Javelin” (Sufjan Stevens)
I’ll die on this hill: “Javelin” is a Christmas album. Since Stevens released this beautiful, aching, melancholic, hopeful and reflective album in 2023 following the death of his longtime partner, Evans Richardson IV, this has been coded as holiday music for me. It is elegiac, it is precise, it is about what it means to navigate the way that love and loss are inextricably intertwined. If that doesn’t say holiday season, I don’t know what does.
“A Christmas Album” (Barbra Streisand)
It’s the most Jewish Christmas album of all time. I love the way the album opens with a frenetic “Jingle Bells” and then moves into a “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” that would make Judy Garland proud. If you’re not in tears by the end of “The Lord’s Prayer,” sorry, I can’t relate to you.
“The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show” (Kacey Musgraves)
I feel very strongly that the only thing harder than starting a religion is writing a contemporary holiday song that sounds like an instant classic. And by these terms, this album is a religious event. “Present Without a Bow” with Leon Bridges, “Glittery” with Troye Sivan, the utter bop that is “Ribbons and Bows” — this album is a major one in my family.
“Saya” (Saya Gray)
I won’t shut up about this Japanese-Canadian artist’s album that came out this past spring. It’s a breakup record in art pop perfection, taking detours through country and indie and electronica and spinning magic out of each track. The songwriting is impeccable, and Gray does not hold back for one second about how she is processing the end of this relationship. Your mouth will just hang open as you go along for the feelings ride.
“Snocaps” (Snocaps)
Hey, the title and band name even make it seem seasonable! This new project by sisters Allison and Katie Crutchfield (aka beloved alt-country-folk icon Waxahatchee) has been in constant rotation for me since its surprise drop last month, and I don’t see this changing any time soon. It’s everything I want an album to be: literally a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll.
📺 What I’m watching
“The Diplomat” (Netflix)
I finally got around to watching this latest project to star beloved elder stateswoman of old Millennials and spry Gen Xers everywhere, Keri Russell. Russell is career foreign service officer Kate Wyler, who finds herself serving as the ambassador to the United Kingdom after a long stint in Kabul. Pressing matters of national security constantly abound, but the most interesting plot line is about Kate’s relationship with her husband, Hal. The third season premiered in October, and it’s time for me to marathon it after blowing through the first two seasons in no time.
“Oy to the World!” (Hallmark Channel)
I absolutely love a Hallmark holiday movie and cannot wait to watch this one about a synagogue youth choir director and an Epsicopal church youth choir director, former high school rivals, who must share a space while competing to perform at the joint interfaith holiday service. Obviously they are going to fall in love and everyone will learn the real meaning of the season, and I for one cannot wait.
“Fallout” (Amazon Prime)
I am extremely ready for the second season of this show based on a beloved video game — and, trust me, I never thought I was going to be a “show based on a beloved video game person.” Get caught up on season 1 if you haven’t seen it yet so we can watch our favorite scrappy characters trying to navigate a post-nuclear hellscape through a stylistically delightful, high camp, genuinely comedic action romp together.
“The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” (Bravo)
We are so back. (For season 15, that is.)
“Happy and You Know It” (HBO Max)
I am sat for this latest in the Bill Simmons-produced Music Box series of documentaries. This latest feature turns its attention to children’s music, asking why this genre is so terminally uncool, wildly popular and perhaps even grossly underrated. If the names Laurie Berkner and Caspar Babypants mean anything to you, you can sit with me.