In The Margins

Subscription Options

£3/month or £30/year
Subscribers receive the full fortnightly editions of In the Margins, each one blending:

  • A personal reflection
  • A mini essay on history, feminism, or culture
  • The Small Things — what I’m reading, watching, and thinking about that week
  • A closing note or thought to carry with you

Why Subscribe

Subscribing helps keep Paper & Glory ad-free and independent — a small act of care for slow, thoughtful writing in a fast world.

It’s also a way to join the conversation: readers often reply, share their own ideas, or recommend books and films in return. The best part of In the Margins has always been that it feels like a correspondence — not a broadcast.

What You’ll Find in Each Letter

The Fortnightly Reflection

A short, personal reflection on what’s caught my attention that week — sometimes an observation, sometimes a question.
This section always includes “The Small Things”, a collection of small moments and quiet recommendations:

  • What I’m reading, listening to, or watching
  • A quote or thought I can’t stop turning over
  • A favourite article, video, or book of the week
The Mini Essay

A longer piece (usually 800–1,200 words) exploring something at the intersection of history, feminism, and culture — a pop-cultural moment through a human lens, a historical story with modern echoes, or a reflection on how we learn, remember, and make meaning.

The Closing Reflection

A brief note to end on — sometimes a piece of writing advice, a reminder to rest, or just a thought that doesn’t need to go anywhere.
It’s a way of saying thank you for reading before the world speeds up again.

Why “In the Margins”?

Because the margins are where the best thoughts begin — in the scribbled notes, the underlined lines, the moments we notice when we’re not rushing.
They’re the edges where life, art, and thought meet: the in-between spaces that hold meaning long after we’ve turned the page.

In the Margins grew out of those quiet corners. It began as a way to gather the fragments that didn’t quite fit anywhere else — the half-formed ideas, the things I couldn’t stop thinking about after lectures, long swims, or late-night reading sessions. It’s a place for the sentences written in the gaps between study and work, the kind of writing that isn’t quite academic and isn’t quite personal, but somehow both.

I write In the Margins to make sense of what doesn’t fit neatly into a dissertation or an essay — to find connections between the past and the present, history and pop culture, scholarship and the everyday. It’s my way of paying attention: to the humanities, to the world, and to the small, ordinary acts of thought that keep both alive.

In a world that rewards speed, In the Margins is my attempt to slow down. To notice, to care, and to remind myself — and anyone reading — that thinking can still be gentle, and that curiosity itself is a form of love.