The Bloggess

I’m not sure where time went, but the book I’ve been working on for years actually comes out in a few weeks. (Holy crap.) Preorders can make such a difference in whether or not a book is successful and so as a special thank you for everyone orders it before pub date, I have a little surprise for you that my incredible Random House Penguin team put together. If you click here to tell us that you preordered then you will get to see all of the drawings I made in the book and then you can print them or color them or post them on a wall or use them to set tiny bonfires.

And you’ll also get to read a few little missives from the book, including one called MURDER POTATOES and another about the time I tried to liberate a human head who was an in-real-life friend of mine. Sort of.

It will ask you for an email address but I promise you won’t get any emails unless you click the box that says that you want to get emails. And also there’s a place where you’re supposed to give the receipt number from your book order but I was like, “Anyone who needs this book is probably unlikely to have saved that number because honestly…I don’t even know where my own receipt is from when I ordered my copy. Can we just have people say ‘I totally promise I ordered a book – or maybe several because my memory is bad – but I’m not organized enough to prove it’ and my publisher was like, “For your people? Totally.”

Also, I was recently telling my sister that I had a meeting with the publisher and she was like, “You’re having a meeting with a random house penguin? That is awesome.” And to be fair, it’s actually Penguin Life which is part of Penguin Random House but I’m going to keep saying “random house penguin” because that does sound awesome.

Now please preorder and go read the sneak peek and tell me what you think? I hope you like it.

Okay, several things…

First off, this was my drawing I posted on my art substack this week where I wrote about how we all need to start using the word “unfuckwithable” more so it can end up in the dictionary, but I’m sharing it here too in case you haven’t yet signed up to get these weird-ass emails from me:

Secondly, this weekend I was hit with very bad mental health stuff and so I posted on threads that I needed someone to tell me to get out of bed and then I curled back up to bed-rot but when I opened it up again it was filled with so many people sending encouraging words or cat pictures, or lovely things like this unexpected bit of fried gold from my friend, Matthew:

And so I did. I drove over to the park near my house, but I had to stop in the middle of the road and get out in traffic because there was an oblivious duck standing in the street and so I waddled behind him trying to shoo him to the park even though someone honked at me (rude). But then when I got to the (normally very quiet) park I could not hear myself think because there were fucking hundreds of those feathered idiots quacking their little asses off.

This is where I would put a video but I can’t figure out how to embed one here so instead just click to the second slide in this instagram.

If it works, you can hear me (barely) trying (and failing) to remember what you call a massive passel of ducks but I looked it up and apparently it’s “a waddling” which totally figures. And then I walked closer and THEY FLEW OFF and I was like, “THESE FUCKERS CAN FLY? WHY WAS I WALKING THEM ACROSS THE STREET?” and probably that’s what that guy in the street was saying when he was honking. I’d like to think I was escorting the one duck with a bum wing, although I suspect the waddling was all probably taking turns pretending to be unable to cross the road alone as a fun little prank to as many people run over as possible.

But the point is that it was really good that I got up because I’ve never seen so many ducks in one place and will probably always remember it. I wanted to write about this last night but I was still deep in the depression exhaustion and so forgive the pause, please. And I’m writing this down now to remind myself to get out of bed, because you never know when some ducks will try to murder you.

Third…shit…I don’t remember what the third thing was. Clearly my mind is getting better today but not that much better.

I apologize. More when it comes to me. Probably seconds after I hit publish here.

Sorry I’ve been MIA. I sort of fell off the world but I’m back today with actual energy and slightly less depression. YAY FOR LESS DEPRESSION!

Just dropping a few notes here to catch up on life, the universe and everything.

Some of you have asked if I’m making the audiobook for HOW TO BE OKAY WHEN NOTHING IS OKAY and I just finished recording it. Whoop! It included two days of me mispronouncing words that because I read them more than I hear them, including mispronouncing Maya Angelou’s last name because did you know it’s supposed to rhyme with “glow” and not “glue”? What else am I confidently mispronouncing? SO MANY THINGS.

If you’re a member of the Fantastic Strangelings Book Club check your email because I need to practice talking about my new book so I’m doing a sneak-peek zoom soon to practice reading and answering questions to try to shake off all of this anxiety before I actually go out on tour. I know most of you are non-judgmental friends so I can fuck up and you will not hate me. Much.

Speaking of Fantastic Strangelings…this months book pick is Superfan by Jenny Tinghui Zhang. Boybands. Obsession. Secrets. Loneliness. So good.

And if you’re a member of the Nightmares from Nowhere bookclub I’m sending you Trad Wife by Saratoga Schaefer. A trad-wife influencer allows a demon to knock her up and it gets even more nuts from there.

And if you need more than one book to get you through…here are a few new February releases I read and loved:

The Red Winter by Cameron Sullivan–  Historical fiction.  Gay werewolves.  Yes, please.  I loved this book although I will tell you that it is bloody and very open-door, which isn’t that much of a surprise for gay werewolves.  

The Glowing Hours by Leila Siddiqui. A mind-bending, revisionist gothic horror story about the fabled summer Mary Shelley began work on Frankenstein, as told by her Indian housemaid.

Evil Genius by Claire Oshetsky – An exuberant novel about a young woman’s quest to carve her own path—even if she needs to step over a few dead bodies along the way.

Agnes Aubert’s Mystical Cat Shelter by Heather Fawcett – Magic, cats, bookstores…a cozy read.

Be Your Own Bestie by Misha Brown – A no-nonsense guide to changing the way you treat yourself.

I’m So Happy You’re Here: A Celebration of Library Joy by Mychal Threets and Lorraine Nam – A lovely children’s book about embracing libraries and patrons everywhere.

Happy reading, my friends.

How To Be Okay When Nothing Is Okay got a starred review from Library Journal! (Starred reviews are rare as hen’s teeth and denote a “book of distinction” and I’ve only gotten a few in my life so I am literally am sitting here with the biggest dumb smile on my face and thought I would share.)

And in other library-related news…last weekend I spoke at a beautiful library in Bryan, Texas and I had a anxiety attack just before. Victor had come with me and when I started to panic he was like, “These people are all here because they want to see you, so why are you panicking?” and I was like, “But what is the likelihood that everyone is only here because they’re mad at me and they are just waiting until I go on the stage to yell at me about how I have personally wronged them in some way?” And Victor stared at me for a second and then was like, “Small. That likelihood is small, you absolute nut. But I did see someone handing out rotten tomatoes in the hall so…?” and then I laughed for a second and then immediately felt even more terrified because anxiety doesn’t always understand rational thought and so I ran away and hid in the stacks to calm down. And I overheard another person who was telling her partner that she thought she was too anxious to go watch me talk and that weirdly gave me the encouragement to go back in because THESE NEUROTIC WEIRDOS ARE MY PEOPLE…but first I posted this on instagram: Dear person I just passed by who is feeling too scared to go listen to the talk I’m doing in 10 minutes: I only know you’re panicking bc I’m currently hiding in the stacks waiting for my own anxiety to pass. You are in the right place, friend.

And it ended up being such a fun and supportive time and later I got pictures of the event and this one is my second favorite because I look fairly self-assured and confident but look at my feet because why are they levitating?

Answer: When I’m really nervous my body sometimes stiffens up to the point that I’m pretty sure a slumber party could lift me up in a light-as-a-feather-stiff-as-a-board-sort-of-way I would still remaining in the seated position and that’s a little embarrassing but also I’m choosing to focus on the fact that I’m showing a surprising amount core-strength for someone who hasn’t done a full sit-up in 25 years.

And at the end the library director took a picture of the packed room for their social media, and I asked if we could also do one where everyone in the audience was super pissed at me because it was literally what I’d imagined in my anxiety attack and everyone immediately turned angry-villager in the best way.

Afterward I stayed to sign books and three separate people thanked me because they thought they were the person that I’d seen panicking earlier and I sort of love this because clearly all three people were having the same panic attack I was and all of us thought we were the only ones, and I think it just goes to show how very not alone we are even when we feel at our most alone.

I just looked down and saw the adhd pill that I clearly forgot to swallow this morning and I apologize because this probably explains why there are even more run-on sentences than normal.