All Stories Have to End Eventually

How Entertainment Weekly made me love magazines and myself.

Pinpointing the exact moment I knew I loved magazines is surprisingly easy.

I was in sixth grade, and we were doing a Secret Santa gift exchange in my performing arts class. Everyone in the class was vibrating with excitement, all perching at the edge of their wooden 1920s folding theater chairs, waiting to be called to receive their hidden gift.

I, on the other hand, was less than enthused. I didn’t have many friends in the class and rarely took the time to talk with the people sitting around me, so I assumed my gift would be generic or impersonal. About halfway through the pile, my teacher reached for a thin, flat gift wrapped in shiny red paper and called out my name. 

Photo by Bernd Klutsch on Unsplash

A copy of Entertainment Weekly’s The Hunger Games special edition was in this oddly wrapped package. It contained detailed interviews of the cast and crew, pictures from the set, and even never-before-seen information about the upcoming second movie.

My favorite part was the foldable posters, one of Peeta and Katniss and another of the District 12 symbol. Even though it’s been over a decade, those posters are still sealed into the thick magazine, which is safe in a clear sleeve pocket on my bookshelf.

I open it up sometimes to read over the old interviews, reminisce on my time in that fandom, and remind myself about what has always been my most recognizable quality - my love of stories. It’s why I received the magazine in the first place.

Although I hadn’t talked to many people in the class, my Secret Santa had seen me read Mockingjay, the third book in The Hunger Games series, in the halls. We barely knew each other, but it was clear to her, and probably many others in my year, that I loved getting lost in a fictional world (even one as perilous as The Hunger Games’s Panem).

Her gift to me was much more than a magazine - it was another way to learn more about the worlds I loved and begin my journey as a fan. It was a way to make sure the stories I loved never ended.

From then on, I became reliant on Entertainment Weekly’s endless archive of information. I would drag my parents to Barnes & Noble every month to pick up the new issue, which always featured some of my favorite actors and characters on the front. My desk had stacks of older editions, with profiles and features so over-highlighted that my markers ran out of ink. I used it to become an expert on media I already knew and also to help me discover new worlds- if Entertainment Weekly told me to read or watch something, I did it.

In high school, when we could finally use laptops or iPads in class, one of my open tabs was always the latest updates on the EW website. I was so obsessed with it all that the phrase ‘According to the Entertainment Weekly interview I read…,’ became an iconic quote on my Tumblr blog, which was devoted to some of my favorite shows and movies. I dreamed of being able to hold those interviews myself, meeting the actors and creators I was captivated by, and spending my days learning more about fandom media and immersing myself in my favorite stories. 

Looking back now, I can admit it was kind of embarrassing and cringy. I mean, who cares that much about a publication, especially one that didn’t even last more than thirty years in the print space? 

But for me, it was more than just a magazine. It proved that the things I loved- books, movies, television shows, video games, superheroes- were significant. It was proof that it wasn’t just me who sat alone in her room, reading fan theories and plot analysis, wishing to be somewhere that didn’t exist.

Thousands of others picked up the same magazine and read about what we all enjoyed. It proved that I wasn’t alone or weird or all that different. It reminded me that being a fan of something, of loving stories so much that you never wanted to let them go, was something to be proud of. 

In 2020, I picked up another print copy of Entertainment Weekly. This time, instead of being a Secret Santa present or fresh from the local Barnes & Noble shelf, it was found in my mailbox since going out to buy a magazine during a pandemic was quite frowned upon. 

This special edition commemorated 15 years of the show Supernatural and honored the cast before the last few episodes came out. Like Entertainment Weekly, Supernatural had been an influential part of my childhood and teen years, unlocking new worlds, adventures, and friendships. It comforted me when I needed it most and gave me memories I will cherish forever.

Supernatural coming to an end as I was stepping into adulthood was almost poetic. The same can be said about Entertainment Weekly, which closed its print doors just under two years later. 

I guess all stories have to end eventually. But it sure was a good one. 

 I still visit the EW website every couple of weeks to catch up on the news and build my own ‘To be Watched’ lists, but these days, I’m telling my own stories.  

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See you between the pages

-Nicolette C