New Year, New Agony

What to expect from Fictional Therapy in 2025

Jo March chatting to Laurie at a New Year’s Eve party of yore… this is a reminder not to burn your hair by attempting curls tonight à la Meg & Jo

Hi readers! I hope you’re all enjoying the post-Christmas lull, and using the last few days of the year to rest, relax, and curl up with a good book. I’m currently defiling the sanctity of sleepy late December by writing to you from a plane headed toward Budapest, where I’ll be spending the next three months as a Playwriting Fellow at The Institute of Advanced Study – but more on that in a moment.

I wanted to say a huge thank you for supporting this publication’s first six months in the world; whether through subscribing, trusting me with your problems, or offering insightful comments. It’s been a joy responding to every bit of correspondence I’ve received. I’ve got exciting plans for Fictional Therapy next year, so I wanted to give you a sneak peek into what you can expect in 2025...

Firstly: I’ll still be responding to your letters with advice from classic literature, of course. I’ve had some brilliant submissions lately, perhaps the most interesting yet: I’m going to be advising someone who’s asked me how to find purpose later in life; I’ll be responding to a mother looking for ways to reconnect with her estranged daughter, and to a reader who’s wondering what to do when it feels like your friends are leaving you behind. For advice, we’ll be turning to all sorts of classic texts (and some modern classics too) - everything from King Lear to the works of Katherine Rundell.

As a New Year’s special, I’ll be using literary theory to think about why we find it so hard to keep our resolutions, and at several points throughout the year – to celebrate the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birthday – I’ll be focusing on Austen’s work especially in my answers. I’ll also be writing a more general piece on what we can learn from Austen’s novels, as I find myself using her books more than any others when writing this column.

And – as previously mentioned, I’m living my best Eat Pray Love meets campus-novel life by moving to Budapest for the next three months. I’ve been invited to write a play in residence at The Institute of Advanced Study in Hungary, working alongside a community of Fellows from around the globe, who’ll be exploring the same research topic as me through their own disciplines (history; sociology and so on). I’m really excited: I’m picturing lots of snowy castles, dusty libraries, and steaming thermal baths; plus interesting conversation with other Fellows at our weekly lunch. I thought it’d be nice to document some of what I’m writing, reading, and experiencing out here, so I’ll be doing some diary-style posts as well.

Most of this writing will be free – everyone should get Fictional Therapy! – but there will be regular juicy nuggets behind a pay-wall too: paying subscribers will get bonus Fictional Therapy posts; bonus diary posts; and plenty more treats throughout the year. If you’d like to have access to all this extra Fictional Therapy in 2025, you can sign up below: it’s the price of one coffee per month (ok, one London caramel flat-white, but why would you want any other kind?). If you don’t want to, or can’t at the moment, there’s no pressure at all – I’d still love you to subscribe for free, and I’m still so grateful you’re here.

Ok, my plane is landing… and you should get back to your book. See you in 2025. Lots of love. XXX