Project V

I’ve been going through all my newsletters for my annual unsubscribathon and inbox cleansing, and that, of course, has me thinking about this little outlet. Raptor Velocity has been a little bit of a letdown for the last year.

There are reasons excuses. My work is sensitive enough that I’m not wildly comfortable talking about communications strategy, even in the abstract. And, post-Cyberpunk, I’ve not had a cohesive bookish topic to focus on. The inconsistency bugs me too: I published 26 newsletters in 2024, which averages well as a fortnightly, but the ‘content schedule’ was less ‘drumbeat’ and more ‘manic fits’. Particularly frustrating as that’s exactly what I don’t like in other newsletters, and this was never meant to be a ‘publicity’ tool.

I perused the publications that I enjoy, and I think I much prefer the pattern of short, regular posts and the occasional ‘long read’. Particularly when the latter isn’t time-limited, but something I can peruse or refer back to at a later time. Now, I suspect this is a classic causation/correlation issue - I like this format because I like the writers that use it, rather than the format itself having any intrinsic appeal.

But…

What I’m calling the ‘dot-dot-dot-dash’ format (e.g. ‘V’ in Morse Code) feels like a good goal for me. Short, weekly posts will force me to write to a deadline. Plus a longer, monthly slot will encourage me to dive deeply into something or another. Basically, Project V is about using this newsletter for it’s god-given purpose: something that benefits me. In this case, by actually improves my writin’, in terms of both output and discipline.

Or, at least, that’s the goal. I’ve going to try this as a ‘dot’ email - e.g. up-front musing, interesting links, book chat, and - where I’ve got ‘em - project updates. Let’s see how it goes.

what I’m reading (online)

• Who is affected by violence? Focusing on young people in the UK. Lots of detail in here, but the number that stuck with me: 20% of teens have been the victim of some form of violence (physical assault, robbery, sexual assault, and threat being the most common forms). But there’s also the halo effect (what’s the negative version of a ‘halo effect’? the ‘brimstone effect’?). 67% of teens are worried about becoming victims, which is ‘reshaping how they live their lives’. According to the report, ‘over half (52%) reported changing their behaviours, with a third (33%) avoiding certain places or social events. For over a fifth (22%), the anxiety has taken a toll on their mental health, disrupting sleep, suppressing appetite and making it harder to focus in school.’ As with all topics in this area, perceptions and concerns around safety carry with them second-order effects.

• The Bookseller, the UK’s publishing trade press, has busted out their first league table for editors. The publication uses a combination of sales and ‘award points’ to create a total editorial score. The sales are sourced via Nielsen Bookscan TCM, which doesn’t include ebook or audio sales. And ‘awards’ doesn’t include genre prizes. Even taken at face value, the focus on sales (except not ebooks) and awards (except not genre ones) makes this yet another accolade for ‘the most commercially-successfully mainstream book’. One could (and does) argue that if we really wanted to celebrate editors for their commercial, not artistic, acumen, that should be done on an ROI basis - rather than simply reinforcing the truism that big books sell bigly. Underpinning the whole exercise is a frustratingly narrow interpretation of what an editor does and what ‘good’ looks like in the publishing world. That said, if The Bookseller’s real KPI were clicks heading into the holiday season, I suspect they smashed it. In the words of one commenter: ‘Thanks, I hate it’.

• Paul Graham Raven interviews Bruce Sterling. Fantastic conversation about futurism and world-building, and the limits of both (as practices and definitions). And luxury multi-tools. And even a reference to ‘pink flamingos’, one of my favourite esoteric social science terms.

what I’m reading (offline)

I really like Beth O’Leary’s books. The Flatshare is an amazing (and annoyingly rare) example of a romance where the FMC (female main character, for those not down with the romance lingo) and MMC (guess) have charmingly distinct voices. The Switch is ADORBS. The No-Show is surprisingly throughtful. And the upcoming Swept Away is absolutely lovely (yes, I’ve read it. ha ha.)

That said… in the spirit of completion, I went back and found one of her ‘earlier’ (well, 2021) works, The Road Trip, and I’m sadly meting out a ‘meh’ rating. Love the concept, of course: Addie and Dylan broke up two years ago. Now they’re heading to the same wedding and ruh-roh, an auto accident means they are sharing a car.

Literally none of the context will make sense to Americans, where long road trips actually cover vast swathes of geography, because the driving infrastructure, y’know, works. In Britain you need to set aside three days to cover a hundred miles, because all the roads were planned around (and possibly by) Roman chariots. On the flip side, we have trains. On the flip side of that, they don’t run on weekends or holidays. Anyway, for American readers, pretend they’re going, say, New York to Boise, and the underpinning dramatic set-up will make more sense.

ANYWAY, the book flips between THEN - when Addie and Dylan first met, dated, dumped, and NOW - when Addie and Dylan and their ludicrous friends are car-trekking dozens of miles at a glacial pace. O’Leary is a genuinely funny writer, and the NOW is filled with amusing moments. The THEN is where all the drama happens. All leading to, of course, a will-they, won’t-they, etc.

Spoilers follow, I suppose… Sadly, this is one of those cases where I was desperately clinging to the hope of ‘won’t’. The foundation of their relationship seems to be a week of steamy sex in France, followed by a lot of ‘tell don’t show’ about how lurved up they are, despite Dylan essentially abandoning Addie, Dylan being utterly useless, Addie (rightfully) considering a life without him, and also they fight all the time. Also also their friends hate them together, for reasons that are simultaneously deeply troubling and entirely justified. The actual break-up impetus is a truly harrowing moment that, to be honest, I don’t see how Dylan can - or should - come back from.

Cut to NOW, apparently Dylan being broke and useless (vs rich and useless) is enough of a demonstration of change to prompt Addie to rethink things. Reader, she should not. He’s still a hot mess and she’s still got a lot to work through (alone). They both have a lot of growing up to do, and no matter how good the sex was in France, they should not be doing girl-boy things together for at least another decade.

Anne and I have often discussed the ‘disaster girl’ trope in British contemporary fiction, both in the ‘book club’ and romance genres. The ‘posh disaster boy’ is an equally prevalent trope, and, honestly, one that deserves a fair amount of unpicking. Just because Dylan can quote poetry, it is apparently ok that he doesn’t have his life together, he’s entirely useless at [everything], and he’s spineless against bad influences. The ultimate resolution in the book involves Dylan not standing up to his hideous father and continuing to let his friends carry him. Contrast Dylan with, say, Kevin - a lorry [truck] driver who appears frequently in the story to bail the crew out from various predicaments. Kevin is comic relief. Dylan is a romantic hero.

Britain has some shit to deal with, you guys.

One of the newsletters I admire is the London Minute. I like the local snippets. And the daily highlights and travel info have earned it the coveted ‘first email I open in the morning’ position in my inbox.