112. Take It or Leave It: What's Coming With Us in 2024

What this newsletter will look like next year; drink trends to keep or kill; plus Tarot for a new year, new you.

Hello and welcome to 2023’s last issue of Hugging the Bar. I first want to say the biggest “thank you” to all of you for reading this little newsletter, whether you’re a longtime or brand new subscriber.

Hugging the Bar will look a bit different in 2024. The recent-ish change from weekly to bi-weekly didn’t really have the effect I’d hoped for, and now the best solution seems to be to take even another step back. I am bored to tears writing yet again about the reasons behind this—burned out on burnout, you could say—so I can only imagine how boring it is to read them, and I refuse to make this the Listen to Me Complain About How Hard Freelance Media Careers Are newsletter. But I didn’t see a way around not at least providing a heads up that Hugging the Bar is about to take on a more sporadic presence, and likely a less rigidly formatted one, too. I wanted to make sure anyone who wants to unsubscribe, especially if you’re a paying subscriber, can do so (especially since I’ve already gotten ghost-y on my publishing schedule here). And if you do decide to unsubscribe, please know how grateful I am for however long you hung out for!

There are two sort of updates I will add to the “reasons running a time-consuming newsletter in the dumpster fire that is the media industry covering the relative dumpster fire that is the craft beer industry, both in the greater dumpster fire that is the world in 2023-2024, is too fucking hard” canon.

One is that a few weeks ago, I said “no” to something I couldn’t believe I was saying “no” to, and it changed the way I look at my career and this industry and what’s feasible, productive, healthy, etc. It was a book deal. A book deal has been one of my goals since…always? As soon as I realized I wanted to be a writer, that benchmark began to loom large on the horizon. Frankly, I’m still figuring out what growth and next levels of achievement look like for a writer with publishing at least temporarily off the table. But I knew this was not something I could take on at this time.

The book focused on a diversity-in-craft-beer topic I was so excited to tackle. Perhaps a few of you reading this know the specifics, as I reached out to a handful of people I hoped to feature in the book. Not covering this subject in a book felt like such a wasted opportunity, nearly irresponsible, but there is no feasible way I could have given this endeavor the time and energy it needs. You see, today’s publishing market is, to be honest, depressing. You can find the greatest agent—I believe I did—who offers boundless support and advocacy, but unless you are someone who is already quite well known and/or you are not writing in a more niche area, you are going to get offered a laughable amount of money for a year-ish-long commitment to very hard work that will take the place of time you could be spending earning income.

I knew this from colleagues who have gone through this, but you know how you can know something but not, like, know it until you yourself experience it? When I saw the offer in black and white on the contract and processed that I would be actually working on this book for nearly a year for about what I can make in a week, I understood the cold, harsh truth. And that was before factoring in the year of travel and event-planning on my own dime to promote the thing once it was published. It’s a vulnerable thing to admit, but I’m crushed on a personal level and also because of what this current reality means for books at large and who gets to write them. To the people who have been able to tackle this and write the incredible, engaging, informative beer books that I turn to over and over, that serve as valuable education tools that are accessible for all, thank you. I admire you. I’m so grateful you did it. I appreciate even more now what that undertaking looked like. And I’m also even more in the dark than ever on how anyone does this (there are also, I’m sure, a variety of different deals that have been offered in different times for different projects, and I obviously don’t know all the details!).

I decided to be transparent about this because I have greatly benefited from the generous openness from other fellow industry members who are now authors, too. I have hopes this will help someone set their own goals in a realistic matter, and I have somewhat loftier hopes that maybe someday a solution can be figured out where even people without various levels of financial safety nets can share their voices in books, too.

The other thing I wanted to mention here is the most recent issue of Jen Blair’s newsletter Under the Jenfluence, which was, as per usual, a brilliant and insightful wallop that made me confront all kinds of goals and preconceived notions I’d had about my career. I urge you to go read “The Year of No” now if you have yet, and I won’t clumsily attempt to paraphrase it here. I will say that it made me realize the only way to give yourself some meaningful, fulfilling “year of yes” is to actually make it a “year of no”: “Year of yes” doesn’t necessarily mean actually saying “yes” to everything. It means knowing what to say “yes” to and what to say “no” to in order to pursue the path you actually want and protect your own boundaries.

While we’re on this general sort of topic, go read, too, Boak & Bailey’s latest newsletter. I really appreciate how transparent they get about what their careers actually look like, what goes into writing the blog and the newsletter, what they do and don’t, why they will or won’t take on certain endeavors, etc. I think their openness is, again, generous, and it can help a lot of people understand what different approaches to writing about beer can look like and why what works for some people may not work for others.

In 2024, from Hugging the Bar, I’d say to expect more bits and bobs when it comes to observations and thoughts on the beer and booze industries, plus probably something that more closely resembles email newsletters of yore, which is a platform for promotion of one’s own work, especially now that social media is disintegrating. I’ll accompany them with beer Tarot as much as I possibly can and anything else fun that moves me and that I have time for. And I do still plan to roll out some fun things for paying subscribers who stay on.

Let’s close this issue and this year out with a few of those aforementioned bits and bobs, shall we?

Hot Goss Buns for Christmas

As the platform formerly known as Twitter takes its sweet time gasping for its last, shallow breaths, #beerTwitter has apparently decided to enjoy what could very well be one final round of low-stakes intrigue.

Because part of me in a way agrees with Jim, I will lay this thing as I’ve gathered it in the simplest of terms: Marz Brewing made a beer that they apparently intended as a “tribute” to fellow Chicago brewery Off Color, but strangely failed to realize that paying homage to someone doesn’t mean committing plagiarism. This Instagram post from Marz, where people are reliably kicking off in the comments, sums things up well, and gives what I think is the most blatant tell, which is that they wait until the very end of their long-winded caption (lol I’m one to talk, right?) to discreetly tag Off Color. Some commenters assume this must have been a collab between the two breweries, which is what I figured at first, too, but…it is not! The spirit behind it sounds lovely and everything, but in reality, this is a brewery intending to solely profit off of the very identifiable and signature aesthetic of Off Color (who, I should note, has not descended into the fray; the lukewarm drama has been fueled solely by observers). Weird move!

Drink Trends to Take or Leave Into 2024

Have you read enough listicles filed either under “Trends We Want to Leave in 2023” or “Trends We’re Hoping to See in 2024” yet to have developed your own opinions yet? Or, maybe, you’ve had some burning hot takes of your own building all year in the face of DrinkTok and cacio e pepe gimlets? Here is my own personal wish list of trends to kill and nurture:

• KEEP: The cocktail bar format formerly associated with being pretentious, elitist, and exclusive suddenly becoming inclusive, welcoming, and approachable. I have a story about this coming out next year that I will keep y’all posted on, but essentially, I have in the last couple of years seen a growth of inclusive measures—clearly marked low-ABV cocktails, thoughtful NA options, small pours for stronger drinks, friendly staff happy to engage and offer as much information as each patron would like—at influential cocktail bars and I am loving it.

  This past weekend, some friends and I headed to “tiki bar in hell” Paradise Lost and when my friends saw you had to ring a doorbell to speak to a host, they ridiculed me for being a bar snob and debated retreating for the nearest dive. Cut to nearly a week later and they’re all still talking about what a great time we had. This came down to (in addition to the very unique, very fun atmosphere) not only a clear rating system for drink strength and plenty of options for each level as well as stellar non-alcoholic options, but a supremely friendly staff that immediately burst any bubbles of pretentiousness. Sounds simple, but not everyone’s doing it, and more should.

• KILL: Alcoholic drinks claiming to be good for you. I thought we had finally put this to bed. Obviously, I imbibe, but we all know there’s no such thing as booze that’s healthy. This is basically a controlled poisonous substance that requires moderation and mindfulness in order to be responsibly enjoyed. But I literally just five minutes ago got a press release—for a brand I thought I’d heard had folded earlier this year, interestingly enough—for a canned alcoholic beverage that’s supposed to be good for you.

• KEEP: Savory drinks. I love them. Filthy-dirty martinis, caprese martinis, olive oil martinis; drinks with peppers and pickles and brines and gochujang and gochugaru and birria consomé—you don’t like it, send it my way, more for meee. In all seriousness, I don’t need cocktails tipping too far into stunt territory, but I find it hard to argue with the huge new field of flavor options, especially factoring in the cuisines of other cultures, that this trend opens things up for, as well as the creativity it allows bartenders to flex.

• KILL: Alcoholic drinks that feel like we are just begging people to choke down their booze. As a devoted advocate of a “drink what you like” approach, it takes a lot for me to put on my judgmental cap regarding different beverages. But a lot of the energy drink and soda behemoth buyouts and mergers have led to the beverage alcohol market being cursed with the presence of fake flavor catastrophes that work so hard to disguise the fact they’re alcoholic, it always makes me wonder why someone who can only trick themselves into drinking those kinds of drinks feels compelled to imbibe much at all.

• KEEP: A slowly resurging presence of cask beer in the US, this time, in brewery taprooms, right alongside some tradition-based trends still going strong, like side-pull faucets. In general, it’s not a hot take to hope breweries keep—and continue to shape—all the trends providing more variety in craft beer.

• KILL: All the shouting about how Gen Z doesn’t drink. I’m stealing this one from VinePair but it’s such an important trend to kill I couldn’t leave it out. For a full, comprehensive, informative deep dive into the reasons behind why this blanket statement can’t accurately be made, head to Good Beer Hunting for Kate Bernot’s ever incisive reporting.

I could keep going with this list forever, but I’ll spare you. What trends do you want to see live on, start living, or die as we enter the new year?

(Yes, I’m still encouraging people to subscribe even while simultaneously encouraging current subscribers unhappy with the coming format to unsubscribe—because as long as you know what you’re getting and are into it, why not come hang out?)

Beer Tarot!

This week, I pulled the Six of Swords.

TRVE Brewing Tarot cards, by Max Sherman

Swords is the suit of intellect and decisions, and the Six of Swords is about transition, change, and a sort of shedding some baggage that’s been weighing you down—how timely! This card comes up when you are about to go through some kind of change, specifically one that involves leaving something behind. That could be the end of a relationship, getting out of a toxic friendship, moving cities, changing jobs, changing entire lifestyles like if you’re going back to school or divorcing or having a kid…more often than not, you’re sad about what you’re leaving behind. Whatever it is, you weren’t entirely enthusiastic about its end, or you’re torn in some way. The transition has involved some real reflection and tough decision-making.

But the thing is, this change will be good. The Six of Swords tells us this transition is necessary for us to grow into who we are supposed to be, and travel closer to lives we find truly fulfilling. Any change like this is bittersweet, as it’s hard to leave our past realities behind but can be so invigorating and positive to forge forward into our new realities. But this card wants to encourage you to be kind to yourself through this period and let go. It’s okay to let go of that past reality and move on—what you’re moving on toward will be great for you. I think it’s especially neat this card has come up in time for a new year, as it’s the perfect way to really mark leaving something behind and taking on something new.

Bronx Brewery has a West Coast IPA called No Resolutions that I think is a great fit here. Because you don’t even need to make resolutions this year, or pressure yourself into arbitrary habit changes just because everyone else seems to be doing it. Don’t worry about possibly setting yourself up for disappointment. Instead, just concentrate on the changing of the years and what that can mean for you, your life, and your situation.

Until next time, have whatever kind of holiday makes you happy and a meaningful fresh-start new year—in the meantime, here’s a holiday Darby.