Paper Says It Might Rain: A Book-Via-Email

I’m doing a new thing. It’s called Paper Says It Might Rain.

It’s not a newsletter.

I know, I know, newsletters are in! But I’m doing something a little different.

Think of it as a book-via-email. You’ll get one chapter a month. It will be essays that won’t be available anywhere else. Essays about the way we used to do things, the things that went away, the things I miss, and the things that should come back (or never went away for some of us). The days of print newspapers, rotary phones, typewriters, and handwritten letters. The days of paper planners, pens and analog watches. The days of matchbooks and cocktails, wearing hats (baseball caps don’t count), and saying thank you. House calls. Sunday drives. The joys of boredom and being alone (but not lonely). Photo albums. Words we don’t use anymore and black and white TV sets. Phone books, calling the operator, and voice mails. The days before social media and having the world in your pocket 24/7.

Your inbox won’t be flooded with promotions or reminders, I promise they’ll be no social media tie-in, and nothing will be decided by an algorithm. I want to do something more longform, something to get us away from the constant stream of Twitter and Facebook and the endless clicking and liking which eventually overwhelm and exhaust us. A throwback to the days of a slower pace, when speed and convenience weren’t the most important things.

Want to leave a comment? You can’t. You have to email me.

Want to read a past column in the online archive? There isn’t one! You have to keep them in an email folder, just like you’d have to cut out a newspaper or magazine clipping you wanted to keep, or a print book on a shelf.

Want to show it to someone in your family? Print it out and put it on the fridge next to your kid’s report card and those coupons for Triscuits (which are delicious, especially the Rosemary-Olive Oil ones).

Have an aunt in Indiana you think might like to read it? Print it out, put it in an envelope, and snail mail it to them. (Don’t forget the stamp.) They’ll be surprised that they’re getting something in the mail besides a bill or junk mail, and you’ll be supporting not just me but also the USPS.

The name comes from the phrase we used to hear a lot, before everyone got their weather updates from TV meteorologists and long before we got them from an app on a phone.

Nobody goes to a newspaper – a print newspaper! – for the weather anymore. But I miss a world where newspapers were the main source of news, local and national and international. It was a finite world but you got all of the information you needed if you read it cover to cover. And it was 100% new and updated the very next day. A miracle!

And I miss when everyone watched the nightly news because not all news is of the breaking variety; sending resumes through the mail on nice paper because I’m never sure if they’re even getting it on the other end if I use an online form (and some mysterious algorithm might reject me); late night shows that had guests on who weren’t even plugging anything and hosts that didn’t run out to high-five the audience; longer TV commercials that weren’t too loud and trying so hard to get our attention; when nobody knew what you were eating for dinner (unless they were eating it with you); and heavy rotary phones that you could really slam down because it’s no fun to push a wimpy button when you’re good and mad.

I miss busy signals.

And phone booths and phone books and calling the operator. I miss when people didn’t bring their phones to the holiday dinner table.

And girls named Mildred and Peg and Arlene (all of the grandmothers in 40 years are going to be named Taylor and Brittany and Ashley); words like “poppycock” and “lummox” and “scram”; when people didn’t say “like” three times in one sentence; getting cashed checks back from the bank; when banks handed out little planners and calendars; matchbooks; blogs that were updated regularly; real Christmas cards; and the community built when we all watched the same TV show at the same time.

But I don’t miss social media.

Do you know what the weather’s supposed to be tomorrow? Paper says it might rain.

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The price? A one-time payment of $10.00. That’s not a typo. You get a chapter a month for a one-time payment of only $10.00! That’s, what, the price of just a couple of large coffee drinks from Starbucks or Dunkin’?

Order now! Operators are standing by!

Click on the PayPal link below or click on a credit card. Any questions, leave a comment below. And thank you!

PAPER SAYS IT MIGHT RAIN

A book-via-email, one chapter a month.

$10.00