Paper Anniversary

One year of Gabrielle (and a discount on paid subscriptions to say thanks).

“I wanted to rub the human race in its own vomit, and force it to look in the mirror.” – J.G. Ballard, Crash

When I launched this newsletter last winter, I didn’t have any grand designs. I imagined it would be a space to write about sex without the need for a ‘timely hook’ or the audience-conscious input of an editor (allow it, I’m still reeling from a copy editor at The Guardian inserting the phrase “rootin tootin” into a review of an Alex G single I did almost ten years ago). But it was, and still is, also a deeply personal project. The things I explore here – pleasure, violence, intimacy, control, fantasy, addiction, shame, all the greatest hits – are never clear cut. They are ethically sticky and require a certain degree of honesty, on my part, about what kind of person I am, and about the human condition more broadly, neither of which are always admirable. Last winter, I was “in recovery” from being maybe the worst version of myself on record.

One of the first essays I wrote was about compulsive sexual thoughts. I called it “maladaptive daydreaming” at the time, but the reality was that I couldn’t go to the off license for a Cherry Coke without doing an involuntary scan of the room to see who would be most likely to bend me over the bins in the alley round the corner. Funnily enough I’m having the opposite problem now, but that’s a newsletter for another time. My point is, there’s not a chance in hell that I would sell these stories to an established media outlet for £200 and a roundtable of Mark’s trying to give me therapy in the comments section.

One of the downsides of writing in a public forum is that there are readers, everywhere, desperate to take what you have said the wrong way. Usually this has nothing to do with the writer or what has been written, but it can be hard not to take personally. I hate the feeling of being misunderstood, and what I’ve come to value most about this newsletter is the knowledge that there are lots of people who get what I’m saying. There is also the reassurance that there are lots of people who, despite the enormous pressure to do so, still aren’t interested in viewing art, culture, or human behaviour through a strict moral binary of right vs wrong. Above all else, the (genuinely surprising) response to Gabrielle has been an invaluable reminder that life is best lived in the grey areas.

It’s Gabrielle’s first anniversary today. Did I mention that? Happy anniversary, baby! After successfully keeping this thing alive for an entire year, I’m pleased to announce that I now have grand designs for the newsletter. I don’t want to spill the beans just yet, but stay posted for developments in 2025.

In the meantime, to mark the occasion, I’m offering 25% off paid subscriptions until Friday. The discount will be applied for the next 12 months, whether you pay monthly or annually, which is a steal. If you really like what I do you can join the Pervert Tier and pay what you want. All of those options are available to you here.

Thanks for all the support so far, which allows me to do work that I couldn’t and simply wouldn’t want to do anywhere else. Thanks for all the emails regarding your secret sexual dilemmas (keep ‘em coming), thanks for the stories about your favourite sticks, and most importantly thanks for sharing my newsletters with people you used to fuck and then telling me about it.

That’s that good shit. That’s desire. That’s Gabrielle.