I just read your book - loved it. It was what I needed to hear right when I needed it. Thanks.

Oh, fuck it. I’m certainly adverse to putting these kind of compliments on the blog, but I think when you’re having a shitty day it really helps to see things like this. I am having a shitty day and sometimes, you have to kind of raise the things you hold closer to you above your head. It is exactly the only thing that keeps you from drowning. It is exactly what pumps your heart.

I wrote a book. It’s been a year, almost, and the bloody stumps that were left over after the book was written are just healing. Just in time for me to write the second one. I am, as I often am, excited and terrified and I love it.

I think love, as a whole, is really gritty and difficult with such outstanding light that it makes almost everything worth it. It also acts as the motor you need to keep going. And I know that “love” usually is synonymous with “a person,” but now and often, it shouldn’t be. Love should be for people. It should also be the things that make you worthwhile and exuberant to the people you love. Find these things, I think, and you will find what you are here for.

So today, I implore you to search. And if you’ve already found it, hold it upwards, wave it like a flag, and continue treading with your head above water until you fly just a little bit.

How do you handle frustrating situations?

I think long and hard about what I want to say and then I think longer and harder about if it is the time to say it.  

On Being A Writer

Q: How often do you write?
A: When I don’t want to, when I need to, as often as possible, every damn day, after a much-needed break, in my head constantly.

Q: How do you get the motivation to turn off the damn Netflix and work?
A: You say “my career is more important than the next episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians,” but this is only after many episodes of The Kardashians. Usually when you can no longer physically keep up with them any longer, you begin to write. Also: when you’re out for blood.

Q: Do you have an agent?
A: I do, her name is Alyssa and she is lovely. I got her after I wrote the first proposal for my book, through my tv agent (rights for The Frenemy, I’m not an actress) who works at the same company (Paradigm) as she does. I recommend getting an agent before you shop your book, as you do give her a cut but she gets you better deals and spots bullshit a mile away and can actually understand the 50 page contract you receive (and gives you wine).

Q: How do you deal with creative blocks?
A: I think of something totally unrelated to what I want to write and write that instead. Gets the juices flowing, although so does a good glass of whiskey.

Q: Do you have fear or failure/success?
A: I have a consistent fear of letting myself and the people who read The Frenemy down. It is second only to my fear of taking opportunities I have given to me for granted.

Q: How do you get published?
A: A sturdy mix of the belief that you are talented enough to get published, the drive to do it, the skin to take criticism, the iron will to edit it AGAIN, and the persistence to follow it all through. Put on the stove and let bubble for weeks, months, years.

Q: Is it exhausting and expensive and time-consuming? Is it worth it?
A: Yes, exhausting. Expensive in the way that you have to learn to budget the money you have like a motherfucker, you have to deal with not making that much money, and you have to pay taxes in April for any money you make up the wazoo. And if I said seeing my book in a bookstore wasn’t one of the best moments of my life, I’d be a damned liar. 10/10 worth it.

Q: How’d you decide to become a writer?
A: I told myself I was one, and then I decided to prove it.

Is there a way to wear crop tops without looking like Hulk, a way that is easy but I am just somehow missing

High-waisted shorts and High-waisted Skirts are the ultimate. Babe! Sex-bomb pinup look. Bonus: They were on the list of clothing items men don’t get or something, so misandry!

Also: you don’t look like the Hulk but if you did Mark Ruffalo is fyinnnne, no complaints here.

Question

You asked: Favorite way to deliver a love confession?

I answer: The best time a first “I love you” tumbled out of my gaping maw—- I was drunk and eating pizza, but most of all—I meant it so fucking much I had to say it, I had to say it now, I had to say it with marinara sauce on my teeth.

When you are about to explode from it all, you sing it out, and you’ll be surprised how loud you can hit the notes.

Anyway: Go for it. You die always and you could even die loved. I’d say it’s a risk worth taking. If not, you’re still alive and there’s always tomorrow and fuck it, there’s always pizza.