This is not a sad love song.
In January, I went back to New York for one of my best friend’s weddings.
I hadn’t been to the city since this summer, when Aaron and I traipsed around Brooklyn and Long Island for five beautiful days in June.
I sensed him with me on every step of this trip, but never more than when I stepped into the offices of HarperCollins and sat down with a team there to talk about our story.
My agent (WHAT. YES, I JUST TYPED THAT FOR REAL) and I were fifteen minutes late, which to both of our Midwestern selves is basically like not even showing up, but we did show up, and to the best of my knowledge nobody noticed how sweaty I was or could see my heart beating through my coat.
It is hard to act casual when what you are talking about is basically just the story of your life, so I didn’t act casual. I acted like a total weirdo, I said the f-word a few too many times. At one point I was sure that Julia Cheiffetz, a very lovely and sophisticated woman with the humble title of Executive Editor, could see that under all the layers of J.Crew I was wearing, I was basically just Chris Farley in Tommy Boy, and this book was my pretty new pet…
Are you ready to write this? someone asked (not sure who, I kind of blacked out?), and I answered truthfully:
I will never be more ready.
To write our story is the greatest gift that I can give to Aaron, the only way I know to repay a man who changed my life so completely and indelibly. The only time to do it is now, with all of the viscera and molten hot grief. Nothing else would be as true.
When I got back to my hotel room that afternoon, I cried as hard as I could. For beautiful Aaron, and the story we lived together. For my wonderful, literary father who never got to sit at the table like that. For my own wounded heart that wanted so, so badly to make the two of them proud.
And I will.
In Spring 2016 (don’t hold me to dates, people, I’m an artist), our memoir will be a real, honest-to-goodness book published by Dey Street at HarperCollins. If you haven’t heard of Dey Street, they recently took a chance on a lady named Amy Poehler who I think will be doing some pretty big things, check out her book if you get the chance. If you haven’t heard of HarperCollins please contact me directly because I am very interested in meeting an alien life form.
We’re calling it This Is Not A Sad Love Song, because you know as well as anyone: this isn’t a cancer story or a sob story, this is a love story. This is a life story.
And this, this right here, is a thank you. For reading my blog. For sharing it with your friends. For writing me the best emails and Tumblr messages and Facebook messages and Tweets. For being good humans who care about other humans, for being bright twinkling lights in the very darkest moments a person can experience. For caring, goddammit.
Thank you so damn much, I promise to make you proud.