I want to talk about women

It’s been a long time comin’...

There’s something very vulnerable about sharing your writing, whether it be journalistic in nature, a personal essay or a piece of fiction. Everyone wants to critique you, it, this piece of art you’ve created. You want people to notice you, it, this piece of art. But there’s always this part of you that wants to try and control what people think about it–make sure the reviews good, not too good so that people are left questioning if the reviewer was bribed, but just good enough that you don’t feel burning hot shame wondering why you shared this thing with the world at all. 

I feel that shakiness now, as I write and tell you that I’ve created something. While part of me is concerned people won’t like it, another part of me isn’t afraid of ruffling a few feathers. I know my writing and the messages I have to share aren’t going to be for everyone. For a long time and still to this day, women aren’t for everyone. While I think that’s a great tragedy–those people who choose to scorn women are really missing out–I also revel in the concept of pushing back against them, crafting arguments with bolded headlines that I have the freedom to explore and publish on my own. 

This thing I’ve created is a newsletter. It’s called Excuse me. I’m speaking. because I’m tired of being interrupted when I’m trying to say something. Or not getting the opportunity to be heard at all. For centuries women have been silenced without even being given the opportunity to speak. Like a double negative. The funny thing though, about women, is we don’t relent easily. We grasp tightly to the things we believe in and we shout our messages out to the masses, even with known consequences in place. 

I’ve never really been the silent type. I can be silent, sure, but when I feel a certain way about something I can’t help but shout out about it. Ask me to stay silent when I know it can help someone, a community, and I will, in an act of defiance, let it rip. 

As a journalist by trade, I’m used to people not agreeing with me, pushing back against stories I’ve written, even though they’re based in fact. As a woman, I’m used to being interrupted, shut down, spoken over, looked past, disregarded. Perhaps being a woman gave me the thick skin I needed to be a journalist, a writer, a critic. Being a woman is absolutely the reason why I continue to write about women. I will not be quiet about being a woman. 

Over the years, I’ve dabbled in newsletter writing, side hustles, freelancing and other ventures. I never stuck with it long–I could never quite find my voice. But here, I find my voice comes quickly, naturally. It doesn’t waver much and I always have something to say. 

My hope is that you can find a bit of your voice in this writing, too. Because I’m not just writing it for myself. I’m writing it for all of us. 

What you can expect

This newsletter will be filled with criticism and essays on culture, and social and women’s issues.

Two shorter pieces will be available for everyone’s consumption every week. Paid subscribers will get an extra long essay on Sunday mornings. And on Sunday evenings I will share a list of the best things I consumed all week, be it articles, podcasts, social media posts, newsletters, so that we can all remain informed and support the work of other artists and women. 

The other benefit for paid subscribers is access to a monthly book club. On the last Wednesday of every month, we will meet virtually (maybe IRL one day!) to discuss the book of the month, which will always be written by a female, queer or non-binary author. It is sure to be a most excellent time. 

As a paid subscriber (it’s only $8 CAD a month!) you will also get to brag to all the people you know that you’re supporting independent arts and journalism–a valuable asset to our society. If I do say so myself. 

All of that being said, I am so happy you are here. Please come back literally any time. 

Meaghan