The Burnt Toast Annual Report: 2023

It wasn't only the year of Ozempic.

It will likely not surprise anyone to hear that I’m not a fan of New Year’s Resolutions —hello diet culture, hustle culture, perfectionism, and setting ourselves up to fail. But I am a fan of writing business plans, and making color-coded spreadsheets about them, which I have done consistently every year of my career. Making a plan is about setting future goals and targets. And as I explained last year, a big part of making future plans is reflecting back on the year that was. 

Cavan Images for Getty Images

Well. So. This year was a lot. 

This was the kind of year that makes me question whether trying to plan—like anything, ever?!—is useful at all. When I wrote last year’s business plan, I did not know Fat Talk would be an instant New York Times bestseller. I had goals related to the launch, but they were goals within my control, like “have a preorder sales plan,” not goals to get hit by lightning which is a little bit involved in making any bestseller list. I also did not know I’d be getting divorced, which has a million ripple effects on my work life and finances, perhaps most dramatically in terms of stories I want to tell here, and certain logistical issues like, what will my available time to work even look like with our (newly finalized) shared custody plan. 

I still do not know how to hold together all the parts of this year—it was wonderful, it was horrible, it was often both at once. But I will say this: I think I’ve learned that plans don’t fail or succeed. They just change. 

So I’m going to keep on being a planner, because I truly don’t know how else to exist. But I’m trying to release the part where I grade myself on how well a big plan “worked”—because that’s the thing that’s always beyond our control. And today we’ll look back at some of the plans I made for Burnt Toast this year, and see what you loved, what you didn’t love—and what changed. 

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There are More Of You Now!

Photo by 10'000 Hours via Getty Images

I launched this newsletter in 2021 with about 700 people on the list. We hit 10,000 by the end of that year, 20,000 by the end of 2022 and earlier this year we crossed the 30,000 mark. There are now almost 46,000 of you. It honestly terrifies me to consider where we’ll be if we keep up this rate of growth for 2024? But also, tell your friends. We are so fun here! 

The most fun, of course, happens in the comments sections, which I am inordinately proud of — I think we’ve only ever had to remove one person? Everyone is lovely and supportive and has the best snack, book, and fashion recs. The paywall is a big reason for this—and please know, that isn’t about exclusion. It’s about making Burnt Toast a safe space for all bodies. 

Paid subscriptions are also essential to Burnt Toast existing at all. This newsletter is my full-time job. Your subscriptions also pay Burnt Toast’s producer and Indulgence Gospel co-host

Corinne Fay

, who we cannot do this without. Every photo you love? Every typo you don’t see? Every amazing underwear rec? That’s all Corinne and that’s just the start of the long list of ways she contributes. The more the newsletter grows, the more of her excellence we’ll get to have here. Paid subscriptions also pay Tommy Harron, our fantastic audio engineer who makes the podcast sound so so good. And they cover honorariums to podcast guests, or donations to the non-profit of their choice. In the next few years, I’d love to bring on an assistant and/or dedicated fact-checker—and paid subscriptions are how we’ll get there. 

To that end, subscriptions are 20 percent off — this week only!

You’ll get those commenting privileges, access behind every paywall and the knowledge that you are helping Burnt Toast stay an ad- and sponsor-free space. (We also offer comp subscriptions, no questions asked, all year round —so just hit email virginiasolesmithassistant@gmail.com if you could use one.)

BTW, about 10 percent of those of you who currently pay are regular paid subscribers and a much tinier fraction have upgraded to Extra Butter. I think I know why more of you haven’t jumped yet (the lack of monthly subscriptions, a Substack issue I’m still hoping to fix!), but I’d love to do a quick poll about this, if you don’t mind:

If your answer is just, “I don’t know what Extra Butter is!” you can check out the premium Extra Butter episodes and live threads here, and join us here.

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What Did You Love Most Last Year?

OK, let’s get to the good stuff.

The email with the highest open rate: 

I am totally surprised to learn we never had more of you open an email than back in January when I told you what I packed for an epic family trip to Thailand. Should we do more on packing? Or fat travel in general? Here for it. 

Packing While Small Fat

The podcast episode with the highest open rate:

Am less surprised that this one on the anti-diet to alt-right pipeline got you to open the email. Whew, it’s a good one! 

The newsletter that brought in the most (free and paid) subscribers: 

My divorce announcement—to a somewhat hilarious degree. Yes, a good chunk of folks did pay $5 to read it and then unsubscribe the next month, and you know what? I get it! Would prob do the same with someone I was parasocially invested in! But many, many, many more of you took the time to write beautiful comments and continue to check in on me and each other. Thank you—it means a lot. 

That said, it’s not particularly useful for newsletter planning because I don’t plan to get divorced again anytime soon. So let’s take a quick look at the runner-ups: What I wore on book tour was the second highest convert-to-paid piece, and last Friday’s Oprah/Ozempic musings was a last minute upset for third place (ironically, it bumped…another Ozempic piece). Meanwhile this Ozempic piece brought in the second most free subscribers, though Underwear Science (by our Corinne!) is almost tied. 

What I Wore On Book Tour

Can Mainstream Media Stop with the Lady Mag Pieces About Ozempic.

The story with the most comments:

Setting aside the divorce essay (once again, the winner), Friday Threads are obviously the place where most of the commenting happens and this fall fashion-related thread was our biggest conversation-starter of the year. For essays (not about divorce), it was tiny women, big houses by a mile. I’m excited about both of these because it means we are no longer just for parents, and that I’m allowed to branch out of health and science reporting. 

Tiny Women, Big Houses

The story with the most shares:

Shares, in general, were much lower this year than last, which I’m putting down to the death of Twitter and everyone not quite making up their minds yet about Substack Notes or Threads. But the piece you shared the most was the Burnt Toast Guide to Kids & Sugar, which delights me, followed closely by this piece about the American Academy of Pediatrics’ ob*sity guidelines, which depresses me but I’m glad we got this conversation out there. (And is why I won’t completely stop writing about weight and health—this is where anti-fat bias has some of its most dangerous impacts.) 

The Burnt Toast Guide to Kids & Sugar

The podcast episode with the most downloads:

Almost 20,000 of you have downloaded the Myth of Childhood Obesity (where I read the first chapter of Fat Talk). Second place goes to The Problem Isn’t Flaming Hot Cheetos, where Laura Thomas walked us all through what we know (and don’t) about ultra-processed foods. 

The Problem Isn't Flaming Hot Cheetos, Part 1.

The podcast episode that converted the most subscribers:

Our June Indulgence Gospel takes this prize, and it’s obviously Ozempic yet again, but let’s believe in a world where it’s the dahlia chat. May Indulgence Gospel is a close second, thank you to everyone who paid to hear me read my hate mail. (No really, it was super cathartic to record that one!) 

I’d love to know: Which podcast episode or essay was your favorite/most shared/most memorable this year? 

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What Did You Not Love This Year? 

Here’s some of what didn’t work so well this year—and what we’re learning from it. 

The email with the lowest open rate: 

Our average open rate, I’m proud to say, is around 55 percent, and this year, we never dipped below 50 percent. But Friday Threads tend to be on the lower side—I’m guessing because a bunch of you just aren’t into threads full stop—and what’s your local diet culture came in last place. (Sorry not sorry, I was fascinated by this!) For essays, What Was I Made For? currently has the lowest open rate (though it’s also the newest essay and December inbox overwhelm is REAL). But I have a feeling if I’d used my first draft email subject — What’s My Purpose If I’m Not Thin? —more of you would have clicked. 

What Was I Made For?

I’m once again not listing the lowest performing podcast episodes because I don’t want those guests to feel bad. (I will own that our community episodes experiment did not prove worth the extra effort and cost they were to make!)

But here’s one general observation: Every so often we get unsubscribe notes telling us that Burnt Toast has become “too consumerist,” or “too much of a lifestyle brand,” and isn’t social justice-oriented enough, or doing enough to center diverse voices. I’ll take that note—there is absolutely more activism we can and should do. And yet—the pod episodes that perform the worst tend to be the ones with that explicit focus. I will continue to prioritize diversity of all kinds when I choose podcast guests, and to offer guest honorariums to make it more feasible for marginalized folks to participate. Still, I think there’s a little lesson in here for all of us: If we want to think of ourselves as people with strong social justice values, that should be reflected in how we engage with the content we consume. 

The newsletter that brought in the least free subscribers: 

How many free subscribers any one newsletter attracts tells us how much the traction the piece got outside of Burnt Toast, in social media shares, texts to your mom friend group chat, Google searches and so on. This one is a tie between the gift guide (because LOL, why would you want our gift recs if you don’t even know us?) and this piece on kid fitness culture, which I honestly expected to do much better! 

Kids Don't Need a Barbie Feet Workout

The newsletters that brought in the fewest paid subscribers: 

To be very transparent with you: We have learned that any completely free newsletter —whether that’s a podcast episode, a Burnt Toast Guide, or an essay without a paywall—usually doesn’t convince anyone to pay. This makes sense because there’s no direct incentive, only vibes. And these free pieces are still valuable! They bring in new (free) readers, they can get more traction on social media, and most crucially, they keep the most useful parts of Burnt Toast content free and accessible to anyone right when they need to find it.

But that’s why you’ve run into more paywalls this year than in the past, though I think hard/constantly about the right balance of free to paid content, and we will continue to always offer comp subscriptions to anyone who needs one, no questions asked. (Just email!) 

So of the paywalled pieces, which flopped hardest? 

Well Friday Threads continue to be a source of total joy for current paid subscribers, but not bring in many new folks. So I’ll likely tinker again with that format in the new year. On the essay front, whew, once again, nobody cares about kid fitness culture – this time, FitBits! I would like this to be because all of your kids are too evolved to be vulnerable to this version of diet culture, so you’re not worrying about it. I suspect it’s because people know their kids are already into this stuff and they aren’t sure how to navigate it, so they just don’t want to look. 

Does My Kid Need a Fitness Tracker?

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So, What’s the Plan For 2024? 

Photo by Anna Blazhuk via Getty Images

When I launched Burnt Toast in 2021, I was initially working on it while still freelancing for other outlets and starting to write a book. In 2022, I did Burnt Toast full-time, while writing and revising and revising said book. This year, I worked on Burnt Toast full-time, while also promoting a book and making, then launching, a limited run podcast. I love that book with my whole heart—I think it may always be the professional accomplishment I’m proudest of, no matter what I do next. And I love brainstorming fun shorter-term projects like

Cult of Perfect

too. 

But can I tell you how excited I am to do Burnt Toast and only Burnt Toast in 2024? We do have the last few episodes of Cult to share with you. And I’m thinking about other mini podcast collabs I’d love to do… eventually (maybe 2025?). Next year will also bring the paperback edition of Fat Talk (now coming December 2024!) and maybe, just maybe, I’ll start to think about my next book. 

But it’s also going to be a year of finalizing the divorce, of adjusting to our permanent custody arrangement, of my kids still being young enough to need quite a lot of me, especially right now. I’m profoundly grateful to have built a career that can make space for all of that, while still being the absolute most fun I’ve ever had going to work every day.

So I’m ready to be all in on this space. To get back to reported features. To think more deeply about what our community activism can look like. To continue, undaunted, in our quest for the perfect pants for fat bodies. 

Thank you for being here this year. Here’s to making more plans together—and staying open and curious about how we’ll change.

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eSIMs for Gaza Update!  

Thanks so much to everyone who Venmoed me or emailed a screenshot of your own eSIM purchase! Between your donations and the Burnt Toast match, we were able to send $1933 to cover 37 eSIMs.

Here are my Venmo balance and purchase receipts for accountability. (One person also forwarded me her receipt, which I won’t repost here for her privacy.) If you didn’t get a chance to join us, you can still purchase eSIMs directly to send to Gaza — all that information is here. (More background on why we did this in last Friday’s newsletter.)

Venmo balance plus eSims purchased

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One Last Thought

When I say that I’m all in on this space, I want to be clear that I’m all in on Burnt Toast — this community, which we have built together. Which is not the same as being all in, forever, on Substack. I continue to appreciate how Substack functions to make that possible. I earn a far better and more sustainable living writing here than was ever feasible as a freelance writer for major media outlets. And I have much more control over what and how I publish. But Substack is not a perfect platform. I’ve been frustrated repeatedly by their unwillingness to address their platforming of anti-trans and anti-vax writers. And now they have added Nazis to the list.

Last week,

Marisa Kabas

organized a collective letter to Substack leadership about this issue, which I’m delighted to co-sign. The statement reads, in part:

In the past you have defended your decision to platform bigotry by saying you “make decisions based on principles not PR” and “will stick to our hands-off approach to content moderation.” But there’s a difference between a hands-off approach and putting your thumb on the scale. We know you moderate some content, including spam sites and newsletters written by sex workers. Why do you choose to promote and allow the monetization of sites that traffic in white nationalism? 

They choose to do this, of course, because there is money to be made off the audiences of these extremists—and in this respect, Substack is no different from any other media company I’ve ever worked for. As

lyz

wrote: “Having worked in media for over 20 years, I understand there are no perfect places, but only the places we work to make better.” I want this to be a place we make better. And so I’m here, but definitely looking to Substack to be part of the better.