Good morning from Los Angeles, where I will be doing an event with Ann Friedman at Skylight Books on Monday. Please come! (This is also why the newsletter is arriving on the later side…California jet lag is a real thing!)
I initially thought I’d tell you this week about the weird, unintended, sociological experiment that’s currently happening in my inbox after having one book-related piece go viral in the NYT (side note: the url on this never fails to please me) and another (this time an excerpt) go viral in the Guardian. But that will have to wait.
Instead, I want to talk about friends.
Not surprisingly the sex in this book is what is making headlines. But whether it makes it in to the final product, what I’ve emphasized to interviewers is that my friendships are core to everything. And that includes this book launch.
Somewhere in the book I say, misery loves company but so does joy. Culturally, we talk a lot about people who stick with you when the going gets tough, but I’ve been reminded over and over during this launch of the importance — the necessity — of people who stick with you when the going gets great. Which is sometimes just as challenging and often more complicated. Particularly when so many friends are in the same business as you and that business is a collapsing industry.
And not just stick with you. But celebrate you.
I have an abundance of these people in my life — something I consider a greater accomplishment than any professional achievement, by the way. And far more satisfying…is the truth the American success narrative makes it hard to believe, but nevertheless, is the truth. This book has been launched on their shoulders just as much as mine.
Publishing increasingly emphasizes the need for networks when they invest in authors, which puts people like me, who have lived in New York City for a long time, and have worked in media, at an unfair advantage.
I also think when we talk about networks, we’re talking about about emotional labor. The labor of tapping into those networks is not a small thing. The constant asking people to do favors for you. So in addition to people in my life being happy for me, I’m sensitive to the (unpaid) labor they’ve been doing — and making it easier for me to do — and how often it’s been done without my ever having to ask for it.
I believe it’s important to both recognize the central importance of friendships in the relationship narrative, and also recognize who is doing the labor. In this case they have frequently overlapped.
This is not going to be a roll call, I could never manage to name everyone, and hopefully they don’t need me to. But it’s impossible to reflect on book launch week without also talking about how Jo, who authored the novel of the summer, has been relentlessly pushing ENJOY on all her platforms for months. Literally. Podcasts. Newsletters. Instagrams. Currently whenever Jo does a book event she makes sure the store plans to order my book. And now that the book is out, I’ll be joining her at some events. Jo is the hardest working person I know. Truly. And that she has added me to her labor is generous to a degree we don’t always have a language for.
My friend, Rachel Sklar, meanwhile, has turned herself into a one-woman (unpaid) PR machine on my behalf. Sending out endless emails and posts to various groups. Rachel is a natural born community manager (and has the bona fides to prove it) and I am hardly the first person to benefit from Rachel’s help (nor is this the first time!), but it’s been especially helpful in a world where authors are increasingly required to foot the bill.
My friend Kimberly, who does this for a living — and is the best at it — has been advising me all along, simply because she wants the best for me. Telling people about me at every turn.
Also, my amazing writing group, which sometimes doubles as group therapy.
And also, the other women I know who are publishing books this month. Jenn, Samhita, Lauren (I think about the premise of Lauren and Rachel’s book once a day, on average). Publishing does not instill camaraderie, and yet we’ve managed to sort of unionize behind the scenes with words of encouragement and check-ins and celebration. (Jenn sent me a Tom Cruise cake on my pub day and I ate it for breakfast every day that week and then jumped off my couch).
And then there’s all other equally moving and important gestures. My Paris friends who couldn’t get here but have been a constant cheer section from afar. The people who sent me flowers on pub day. Who have been tracking my sales relentlessly as though I am a stock market they have invested in (which, if we talked about emotional investment the way we talk about financial, is absolutely true!). Who texted immediately when the NYT review went live. My friend Julia who immediately whipped it up into a graphic for me so I could post to instagram. My friend Christina who came down from Boston and helped me set up the book party. Ruth Ann who generously sponsored said book party. Erik who arrived with copies of Town & Country’s summer issue, which is running a book excerpt. All the women who are doing events with me. Who have interviewed me. All the people who’ve posted about the book. Who’ve sent nice notes. People I haven’t seen in twenty years, who came to the launch reading.
It is the general feeling, summed up by Katy before our book event at the Strand last Tuesday: We were in the greenroom beforehand discussing how the conversation would go and she stopped me and said: “Don’t worry, you’re in my hands now. I’ve got this.” (Then she made me read the filthiest chapter in the book to a sold-out audience, which was actually perfect.)
It is enjoyable beyond measure to be in other people’s loving hands. Often more enjoyable than being in all the actual hands I write about in the book, and definitely more important. Getting both? To me that is evidence of a life well-lived. And I’m very grateful.
Glorious stuff, can’t wait to read your book!