There is a gust of newsletters out there, so thank you for finding your way to mine. I'm Ani, a writer subscribed to deep thinking, books, good films, and travel.
By way of introduction, my visible roots known as heritage: I was born in Yerevan, grew up in Moscow, and am spending my time these days hopping between Los Angeles (where my family and I immigrated to) and New York (where my heart does its most ardent fluttering). In what feels like a past life, I studied foreign policy/international relations at UCLA and Columbia, and figured I might as well get a law degree. Some know me as @ani_elizaveta by way of Instagram, maybe four of you know me as someone with a bookish YouTube page, and still others as a person who has this thing called a newsletter that everyone's been doing these days.
What is this newsletter?
It's my attempt to be life-affirming in our absurdist, modern world.
With that in mind, every Friday at 3 p.m. Eastern, I send out a [glorified? humble? you pick the adjective] list of what I've been exploring over the past week. (I’m bolding the time for the sake of my own accountability more than anything.) This is a curation of links, recommendations, things and thinks mapping out where my mind's been, and an invitation to think deeper. It will also house a book recommendation of the week, in which I ask readers to comment on a book or a piece of writing that has influenced them in the past week.
In addition to this weekly roundup of links, paying subscribers get access to my personal essays, which I send out every Sunday at 3 p.m. Eastern. I have imposter syndrome with regard to writing, and it's constantly lurking, justifiably so, perhaps, because I've called myself a writer and yet haven't created a disciplined schedule, or a mental bandwidth for it (here is where I ask myself if Instagram captions count). As in, I haven't really produced much writing. And that's because I haven't glued myself to a desk to write. And thatttttt is because I've romanticized and feared the process to the point of paralysis. So, I would like to experiment with, if I may, the idea of using this corner of the Internet as a home for writing. I don't really have rules on topics I'll cover, but here are some invisible wooden beams for this tiny home and what these personal essays will look like:
- a contouring of roaming thoughts
- a spot to gush about books
- a questioning of givens
- a proof of curiosity
- a (public) diary
All in all, I hope this newsletter brings you the feelings you'd feel after a four-hour conversation with a kindred spirit at a coffee shop; you know, the kind where time stands still and you're left smiling at the life-affirming splendor of being human. (Why four hours? I like the number four, and no, it’s not associated with Tim Ferris.)