Tour Diary (Part 3): The Pacific Northwest

On this last stretch of (this part of) book tour, I had the surreal and new-to-me experience of being on not one but two morning talk shows—one in Seattle and one in Portland. The shiny, bubbly energy of these kinds of shows is so completely the opposite of my comfort zone, the idea of me sitting on a set couch and trying to match the host’s enthusiastic cadence was kind of hilarious. But it was also an interesting opportunity to think about what it really means to find new readers.

As I expected, both shows focused on the female friendship angle when talking about First Love, presenting it in a kind of feel-good, girl power light that I swerved away from at several stages throughout the publication process. One of the first things I said when my editor and I started discussing possible cover concepts was “Just don’t give me two little girls holding hands” (the “three women smoking cigarettes on a fire escape” cover we ended up with is just right). Yes it’s a book about loving my friends, but in more of a “blood oath” kind of way than a “friendship bracelet” kind of way, and I’ve felt from the beginning that it would be all too easy for the way it’s positioned to tip over that line. In general in my work, I avoid any trace of saccharine with as much vigilance as I avoid cliché or factual inaccuracy. And I’m glad that I was vocal and stubborn about this when it came to the book cover and subtitle and jacket copy (and glad that my agent and editor and publisher understood and were on board for my persistent steering away from sweetness). 

But as I waited for my turn to go on the air on the first talk show, watching the previous segment on the monitor and going over the questions that the show’s producers had provided, I realized that I had a choice: I could be prickly and difficult and try to sneak in some talking points about the book’s grit and subversiveness… or I could straighten the collar of the pink blazer I had packed specifically for this purpose and lean into the opportunity to reach a wider audience. And who knows, maybe some Morning Show Moms (complimentary) would be intrigued and check out the book—come for the female friendship, stay for the revelations about grief, violence, queerness, obsession, art.

Without that chip on my shoulder, I was able to have fun with both of these short interviews. They were a great reminder that once a book is out in the world, it’s not yours anymore. It belongs to readers, to make of it whatever they will, and your only remaining job is to help it find as many of them as possible. (Also a great way to kick off Gemini season, leaning into my chameleon ability and trying on a bubbly, shiny version of myself, because why not. It’s fun to be a new self sometimes, just because you can.)

The events at Elliott Bay in Seattle and Powell’s in Portland were both wonderful. I was in conversation with Jane Wong and Erica Berry, and full of gratitude for both of them for engaging so deeply with the book, and showing up so fully to discuss it with me. I’ve been so lucky with all of my conversation partners so far—Jane and Erica, plus Ruth Madievsky in LA and Esmé Weijun Wang in San Francisco, and Leslie Jamison at the launch in New York. Each of these events have affirmed for me the importance of being in conversation with people who you really vibe with on a human level, in addition to respecting and enjoying their work as writers, for this kind of thing. Because yes these events are a show you’re putting on for an audience, but at their core they are really just two writers shooting the shit. So choose people you want to shoot the shit with.

There are so many points in the process of writing and publishing a book where you have to ask for favors, which is, in my opinion, one of the most excruciating parts of the whole thing. I hate the idea of putting pressure on people, or taking time from their own work, or worst of all/my most haunting anxiety in these scenarios, having people I genuinely want to be friends with think that I was just being friendly so I could ask them for a favor later (yes I know this is neurotic). But sitting at the front of a room full of people while a writer whose work you have cherished asks you thoughtful, generous questions about your own work is such a cool experience, it’s ultimately worth the social anxiety of asking them to do it. (Thank you again Leslie, Ruth, Esmé, Jane, and Erica!!) (I said I avoid being saccharine, that doesn’t mean I can’t be earnest, ok?)

I have a few more events coming up in the next few weeks (6/5 at Riffraff in Providence with Courtney Denelle, 6/6 at Book Club Bar in Manhattan with Chloé Caldwell, and 6/11 at Head House Books in Philly with Athena Dixon!) but for now, I am heading home. I’m so excited to sleep in my own bed, to see my husband, and most of all, to mush these faces:

The event at Powell’s was on Tuesday and I could have flown home yesterday, but when we were scheduling this trip I anticipated (rightly) how wrecked I’d feel by the end, and asked my publisher to please book me an extra day in Portland to rest and recover a little bit before traveling again. I’m so grateful they agreed because wow did I need it. Yesterday I slept in, ordered room service breakfast, got a massage, and then spent the rest of the day in bed catching up on the three million emails that piled up during this trip, drinking two liters of water and about a dozen cups of tea, and stretching. I wasn’t always good at prioritizing recovery, but chronic pain has given me no choice but to learn how, which I guess is the one (1) good thing about it. On that note, let’s hear it for the real MVP of this tour: my collapsible travel kettle that allowed me to maintain the high levels of tea consumption necessary for my survival. (No this is not spon-con, I just really like tea.)