This newsletter just added a bunch of new subscribers, thanks to a mention in the show notes of the final episode of the Slate Culture Gabfest. Ending the show after 18 years was a huge deal for Julia, Dana, and Steve (and producer Ben and production assistant Daniel). I've been a regular guest over the years, and I sat in for Julia for several months 13 years ago. Even at that remove, I was really verklempt during the last taping. I was so impressed with how together the Gabfest hosts were. I can wave au revoir to countries without looking back, but saying farewell to podcasts is much harder, apparently. (Leaving a country is no problem, but I do miss the people who live in it.)

I've gone through this twice this month, since I also joined Bryan and Christina in the final episode of the superb Outward podcast. (If anything, the latter was even MORE emotional.)

Having been a host of a few other podcasts that have come to an end--The Waves, Working, and Afterword among them--I have a feeling that the hosts I just name-checked will find themselves thinking about their old podcast for a while longer. The only way to host a no-break weekly show is to incorporate it into your life schedule--you always end up doing a lot of the work in your "own" time--and it's hard to turn that off. This is a newsletter about my experience researching and writing my next book, a biography of Rita Mae Brown, but today I want to take a little time to give a sense of what's involved in making a chat-show-type podcast. Hopefully, they sound very casual and off-the-cuff, but they involve a ton of preparation.

First you have to decide topics. In the shows I've been part of, that discussion usually begins as soon as the previous episode comes to an end. It's surprisingly tricky. You need to identify subjects that will still be relevant and not overexposed by the time the episode is published. And in the case of the Culture Gabfest, where hosts have to see movies, and watch TV shows, you have to be sure that everyone can get to experience those bits of culture. (Over the years, screeners have become far more common, but they're by no means universal--especially for movies.) With topics picked, you then you have to do all the watching and reading.

The Culture Gabfest has had a series of amazing production assistants over the years, many of whom now have fabulous media jobs. One of their jobs--in addition to identifying potential topics by keeping track of releases and the magazine stories everyone is talking about--is to pull together a reading packet, collecting the most relevant reviews, profiles, responses, etc. After experiencing the art and journalism that you'll be talking about, you then have to read and inwardly digest that packet. (In my experience, it takes a couple of hours just to read through it--the last one I got was a 59-page PDF. That week we also had a short book to read.)

The next bit is the hardest: You have to figure out what you think about these things. It's like writing a movie review, a TV review, and a blog post without having to type it. But you do need a take, and if a joke or two might occur, all the better. Oh, and you also need an endorsement and, in Slate's case, a Plus topic.

Then you need to show up and talk into a microphone. Back in the Waves days, because my co-hosts had day jobs (I mean, I did, too, but mine took place in the same office), we taped at 8:30 a.m., and since that was before the taping-from-home era, we had to get to the studio first. (I'm not suggesting that 8:30 is the crack of dawn, but it's not necessarily an easy time to be ON and vibing, either!) And then you do it all again seven days later. (The prep also affected my feeling about segments. A flat discussion is always a bummer, but it really stings after you've spent hours watching a mediocre piece of art.)

It is a lot of work, but it's also amazing fun. Co-hosting a podcast for years and years is like being on a collective together--hard work and a unique bonding experience. (I should also say that being associated with the Culture Gabfest has provided a great calling card. A couple of years ago, I showed up to interview the artistic director of a Glasgow theater company, someone I'd never met before, and immediately learned he was an obsessive Gabfest listener. The ice was broken. That sort of thing happened over and over again down the years.)

I'll miss both shows terribly.

Next time, back to me and my book!

LISTEN TO ME: Do listen to the final episodes of the Culture Gabfest and Outward podcasts.

RECOMMENDATIONS: I did a really fun event at Edinburgh's Lighthouse Bookshop with AJ West, author of How Queer Bookshops Changed the World. He's got a lovely writing style, and while I reckon myself a bit of an expert on this topic, I learned a lot, especially about British stores. Sigrid Nielsen, Bob Orr, and Raymond Rose, who had owned Edinburgh LGBTQ bookstores Lavender Menace (1982-87) and West and Wilde (1987-97) talked about their experiences as well, which made for a really special evening.