Road trip to Dollywood
Notes from a triple-purpose journey
Hello from DC! I’m writing from midway through our BOOK TOUR /COLLEGE TOUR /ROADTRIP TO DOLLYWOOD! Yes, that is correct, this is a triple purpose trip: scope out schools for my daughter (we already turned my Godmothers visit into a UC Santa Barbara visit, and did a tour in Philadephia en route from NYC to DC), while also making our way down the coast to the home of the magical Dolly Parton. Tonight, I’ll be in conversation with Matthew Yglesias at the bookstore Politics & Prose. Matt is kindly filling in because the amazing Jerusalem Demsas is sadly under the weather. If you’re a DC person, come say hi.
I was in New York City over the weekend, and I’m still on a high from my book party on Monday night. I hugged many people, some of whom I’ve known for decades, some of whom I’d only seen on a Zoom screen, some of whom I’d never met before. There were sedimentary layers of friends there, a palimpsest of people - a buddy from junior high, my high school ex-boyfriend, my sister Margaret who came all the way from Massachusetts, college roommates, college crushes, college newspaper friends, coworkers from my very first job in NYC, psychologists, researchers I’ve met at conferences or on committees, Substack friends, the people at my publisher that I bug every day via email, writers I admire, literary agents, my husband’s studio partner, a couple that I met on vacation in Mexico, just a big fun mix of New Yorkers who were willing to come out on a Monday night and wait for a very slow elevator with a strict crowd-size limit (as enforced by the world’s strictest bouncer, aka Buck Walker, aka my 14-year-old son)
Frankly, I’m lucky that I got to have an NYC book party at all. As a first time author, I dreamed of a splashy book tour packed with fireside chats, long signing lines, and moody hotel room selfies. I quickly learned that these days most publishers discourage too many in-person events, because they’re a hassle to set up, are often poorly attended, and rarely sell many books. So although I pitched my publisher on coming to NYC, they were understandably reluctant to organize an event in a city where I couldn’t guarantee a crowd. However, in January, something serendipitous happened. Let me rewind about 25 years, because although I’ve told you about my youthful anxiety, disorganization, and messy apartment, I haven’t talked about my strange post-college career as a dotcom entrepreneur.
Right out of college, I joined an internet startup company founded by my friend Eric Ries, a stone-cold genius. We raised too much venture capital money and blew through it at breakneck speed, including spending an ungodly sum on a tailgate party that featured a flatbed truck loaded with buffalo wings and a DJ named Cypher Zero who subsequently sued us in small claims court. Unsurprisingly, the company was a spectacular failure. Eric leveraged that failure into a successful Silicon Valley career telling entrepreneurs what not to do (check out his new book, Incorruptible). I moved on to another dotcom, this one based in NYC, and headed by force of nature Laurel Touby. This company, Media Bistro, ran a job board for careers in the media industry and organized parties for writers. Laurel was doing online social networking before Mark Zuckerberg even applied to college. It was a fun place to work. However, in an all-time dummy move, I left the company to go to graduate school, three years before she sold the company for $23M and all my former coworkers cashed in. At the time (2003), I concluded that the internet wasn’t really going anywhere. Laurel wisely spent most of the proceeds on real estate and is now in a gorgeous loft in the Flatiron district of Manhattan.
This fall, I got an unexpected invitation from Laurel: She was bringing the original MediaBistro crew together for a reunion, and wanted me to come. At the reunion, when I told her that I had written a book, she offered to host a book party for me. It took me about thirty seconds to say yes. However, once I said yes, I started getting nervous, and I was a little ball of stress walking into the NYC party.
Going into my Los Angeles book party, I felt confident that it would go well: it was at a bookstore a quick drive from my house, and I knew that friends and neighbors would show up. Going into Monday’s party in NYC, I had absolutely no idea who would come, whether it would be weird vibes, how the conversation would go (I’m a super fan of Jess Grose, my conversation partner, and have been reading her for years, but we’d never met in person), whether people would come, or whether I’d be picking at a cheese plate in an empty loft with my own teenagers (dragged to the party by force).
I only lived in New York City for four years, but it was a momentous four years. It’s where I met my husband, made friends, and figured out how to be an adult. I’m not very good at keeping up with people long-distance, though, and I worried that no one would show up.
Thankfully, people actually did show up, and the vibes felt good (to me, at least). Jess was lovely and we had a great chat. I was grateful to every single person who showed up. I met the writers of not one but two dad Substacks (Jack Neary of Dad Mag and Jason at Dad//Citizen), who were much taller than me. I met folks from the American Institute for Boys & Men, and journalists from some of my favorite outlets.
The rest of this past week has been equal parts exciting, deflating, stressful, and fun, but mostly fun. I’d been told my actual pub day would be pretty anticlimactic, and it was. The thing is that no one really cares as much about your book release as you do. It’s ironic to say this because I was just arguing with people about who can use the term “postpartum,” but you can definitely have postpartum book feels. The attention is on you for a while, and there’s a huge build-up, and you know that soon you won’t be the most exciting game in town (if you ever were).
For the last few weeks I’ve been pre-taping a whole bunch of podcasts and sitting for interviews for pieces that haven’t been released yet. I felt like a car endlessly spinning its wheels while stuck in the mud. Tons of effort, no visible progress. But that’s changing now that those tire-spins are actually translating into real-world visibility. On Wednesday, my podcast with Derek Thompson released; on Wednesday, my conversation on Armchair Expert came out. I also talked to the stellar Substackers Elena Bridgers and Frames of Space. There is more to come, since I taped and wrote a bunch of stuff timed for Father’s Day week. Stay tuned, and I’ll update you from the other side.
MUSIC RECOMMENDATION OF THE WEEK
Past recs (Playlist link!): Broncho // Alvvays // Capitol Years // The Cairo Gang and Hard Quartet // The Beths // Ballerina Black // James Mercer // Playboy Carti & Car Seat Headrest // Weyes Blood // Matthew Sweet // Fontaines D.C. // Elvis Costello Spanish Model // Lily Allen // Geese // Olivia Tremor Control // Wake Up Dead Man // Beulah // Rosalia // A$AP Rocky // Dirty Projectors // Mitski // Foxygen // Teenage Fanclub //Aimee Mann // Nick Lowe // Mary Timony // The Pretty Flowers // Night Moves // Guided by Voices // Beach Bunny
I am too tired to write a real one, so here you go: my favorite Archers of Loaf song.
It was a great party; I met lots of very interesting people. And I wasn't left out of the dialogue because I am neither a dad nor a dadfluencer.
So fun to be included! Please let Jason or I know if you need anything from the top shelf.