Metaphysical caviar

& new paid *options* for however you take it

Dearest readers,

This newsletter is chock-full of indulgence, but I am also grateful for yours. You are somehow reading quite useless even though I have obstinately violated every “best practice” of Substack growth, penning a scheduleless topical smorgasbord held together by only the loosest thematic associations—all under a title that manages to be off-putting in its superficial negativity and deep pretension at once.

By design, of course. To the extent quite useless affects nonchalance, I assure you it is manufactured; a self-conscious claim to the artist’s magic, to a Wilde legacy, to art for art’s sake.

There are good reasons why other Substacks set up contractual terms, but they are anathema to my purposes and priorities: of connection over specialization, of quality over cadence, of uselessness. I am a novelist, an artist—a person, not a periodical—and have no desire for this to change.

That said: value is distinct from utility. No one needs caviar, but it’s still valuable. It’s scrumptious! A delight and a luxury.

In my not particularly humble opinion, quite useless is metaphysical caviar, worthy of a splurge.

Several of you have kindly pledged to become paid subscribers already. And while—again by design—writing is hardly my primary means of material sustenance, I still enjoy being recognized in this way for my literary wiles.

So I’ve been pondering for some months how I might instantiate these pleasures through paid options—heavy emphasis on options—without things devolving into contractual expectations and boring apologies.

In my small way, I want to support Substack’s business model, too. No platform has yet alighted on a better one.

The following is where I have alighted myself:

New quite useless menu

Nearly all posts will remain “on the house” for free subscribers. Still no set schedule or cadence. I continue to promise nothing.

Chat (and the occasional post) will be for paid subscribers to gossip frankly about books we don’t like, &c. (If you want but cannot afford this extra helping, email me at natashauthor at gmail dot com and I’ll comp you without question.)

The new paid *options* are:

• Monthly metaphysical caviar: $8

  Bite size! like an amuse-bouche at a fancy restaurant

• Annual subscription: $80

  Like buying your metaphysical caviar at Costco! (which is where my husband buys mine)

• Metaphysical Russian Tea Room extravaganza: $800

  The ultimate in metaphysical luxury! if anyone actually goes for this I will send a signed and personalized copy of The Portrait of a Mirror to their US address of choice

Anticipated FAQ

How did you set your prices?

Great question—I thought a lot about this, because pricing strategy is how I do make my living.

$8 per month and $80 per year are Substack’s default prices for those tiers; my educated guess is they were not set at random, but at the platform’s aspirational “full market rate.” quite useless is not a discount metaphysical product; indeed, I aspire to offer only the very highest quality nothing. Which is also why I bumped up the top “extravaganza” rate—it is intentionally extravagant, with the extravagant price comprising no small part of its extravagant pleasure.

How do I know if a paid subscription is right for me?

Do you get a jolt of dopamine when quite useless hits your inbox? Do you read the emails two or three times—and not just because of my archaic sentence structure? Perhaps you liked my novel? Or took one of my other book recommendations? Or at least sounded smart at a dinner party? Are you a recovering snob? In pursuit of beauty and truth?

If you answered “yes” even once, I’d venture to say you’d enjoy a paid subscription—though ultimately it’s up to you.

Is this model one of those psychosocial late capitalist scams like “unlimited vacation” that theoretically sounds great but actually sucks?

Absolutely not. Please revel in your free subscription if that is the best option for you—I am genuinely grateful for it and do not want your guilt money. I would much rather you guiltily forward quite useless to your friends.

Can you preview any upcoming posts?

I rarely plan ahead, but some topical *options* currently under *consideration* include Phoebe Philo’s first edit, luxury agendas, and an end-of-year reading-wrap akin to 2022’s.

If you have other questions, let me know in the comments and I’ll try to answer.

Thanks again for reading, pledging, indulging—for all the useless, delicious fun,

ANJ

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