It’s Valentine’s Day! Happy day to all who celebrate! I am not typically one of those people. BUT! I have a book out in FOUR DAYS that The New York Times somehow deemed a ROM-COM and so I feel the need to send a hello ❤️

My experience with relationships has always been fraught. A huge reason for this— aside from my seismic abandonment issues—is a pretty intense tendency towards obsession (the two are not unrelated of course). Ever since I was little, I’ve always had role-models. I’d tape magazine cut-outs of the celebrities I wanted to be on my wall, studying their look and clothes and mannerisms. All through High School I had a crush who (turned out to be gay but) was such a point of focus in my life for so long that he haunts my dreams to this day (literally, he appeared again last night).

Back then I assumed I’d get married one day because I grew up in the Long Island suburbs and who didn’t get married? I held this assumption until I was well into my thirties. For most of that time, I assumed I’d get married to my college boyfriend who I’d dated for four years and continued to on and off hook up with for another fifteen years, despite him frequently turning to me and saying: “Em, we’re never getting married.”

In other words, relationships, for me, have always been—complicated.

Over time, as my friends actually did get married and have kids and then more kids, I assumed I’d be single forever. But by that point I had becomes quite comfortable with the idea; being single felt essential to who I was, like having curly hair. Around this time I was going through a sort of re-invention, trying be a “writer” and spending extended time alone in the woods. Being alone didn’t just allow me to feel like myself, it allowed me to figure out who that self was. I assumed I’d meet a soul partner (most likely a woman) somewhere in my sixties, which began to feel completely correct—how it was always meant to be.

My relationship with Valentine’s Day has always been more like a support group reunion. A day to acknowledge how grueling the process of dating can be, for the women in my life to pat ourselves on the back for trying, and acknowledge the power of love in all forms. And, despite how cliche this messaging has become, I really do love love in all the forms.

Point is, typical love stories were never really my thing.

There’s a quote in my novel:

“She was aware that her love and her hate for him ran violently at equal and opposite speeds. On some level she knew they countered one another, resulting in something that was neither love nor hate but closer to obsession.”

This, though, is very much my thing. I’ve always been fascinated by relationships, specifically those with an intense flair. The way they shape who we are, the way they forever contradict themselves. How the same person can drive us to destruction while simultaneously being the sole thing that makes us wake up in the morning. How very much they teach us about ourselves. God, it’s so complicated. So seductive.

I’ll apologize again for my ruthless self-promotion these last few weeks, it’s exhausting to witness someone repetitively pushing a product, even if that product is the closest thing to their soul personified (in fact, that might be worse). But if you are looking for a book that dives head first into the intricacies of desire, adoration, codependence, and intense, imbalanced love, then I have a rec for you!

Another quote from the book:

“Staring at Anaya, unguarded in her home, wearing the leather jacket she’d seen in person just a month ago, she felt an overwhelming affection toward her—beyond affection, something like devotion.”

Nothing Serious could be described as a love story, albeit a twisted one. Though I consider, in a very strange and specific way, the ending to fall on the side of happy, in a sense, I imagine most readers will feel differently. The book is about obsession, how it feeds us, how it destroys us, how it gives us something to live for. It is about exploring queerness when all of your patterns are rooted in a heterosexuality. It is also about platonic love, love in the form of fandom, how utterly life-changing admiration can be, for better or worse—bringing us closer or further from ourselves—depending on who we choose to latch onto. Ultimately, it’s about finding love and trust in ourselves.

If any of this is your kind of Valentine’s day story, please preorder NOTHING SERIOUS and share with others who might enjoy it!! (Friendly reminder, it’s best to order from your local bookstore but anywhere works! :))

Behind the scenes of the publishing process

I know some readers are interested in the details of publishing, so here are a few highlights from this past week—ONE WEEK out from launch!

I did my first reading from the book! I was so nervous! My heart actually felt like it was beating inside my throat. My two dear friends, Sarah Kasbeer and Hyeseung Song (buy their books; they are both incredible), came out to support me, but before the event I was mostly sitting alone nervously sipping my vodka soda and watching all the hip little Williamsburg girlies a decade (or two!!) younger than me float around the room. There were three of us reading (the other readers, Shayne Terry and Jen Lue were amazing and it was such an honor to be included in the lineup), and somehow I went last, which only extended and heightened the terror.

Finally, I went up. And guys—it was great!! People laughed! The hip little Williamsburg girlies came up to me after and said they loved it! It was very, very validating and broke the ice for me a little, got me comfortable reading form it out loud. I’m so grateful I did it and have my dear friend Serene Khader to thank (also read her book, it is brilliant!) for recommending me to the series.

Yesterday, I got to visit the HarperCollins office! And (insanely) I met my editor and agent for the very first time ever. This is insane because I’ve exchanged about 74,248 emails with them in the past few years. Anyway, we all had lunch and it was lovely, and I also got to meed the editor of Rejection (which I will reread forever; the second story in particular) because we’re under the same imprint, and I almost melted when she said she loved my book and had been in many of the meetings around it.

On the way home, I stayed on the subway for an extra stop so I could take the scenic walk home, along the park. I walked about one mile an hour towards my apartment, like a dozed turtle. Somehow, despite just having a kind of dream New York day, I was full to the brim in self-hatred and shame. Should I not have said that thing? Why did I ask that question? Why didn’t I ask this other question? It’s so wild, how we can be so confident in so many ways, so proud and self-assured, but the self-hate still seeps in, how quick it can dominate. On the walk, I tried to drain it or at least let it pass through, knowing it was mostly anxiety and nerves lashing out, and try to appreciate this special and brief moment in time. Then I got home, had a big bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, watched an old episode of Girls and was in actual heaven.

I hope everyone enjoys this holiday by doing whatever it is you love most!! 💕💕💕

Some old essays on dating and relationships:

• Finding Love When You’re Forty and Happily Single - Catapult

• The Art of Being Completely Alone - Medium Feature

• I Want a Partner Who Expands My World, Not Fits Into It - Medium Feature

• A Dating App Founder And A Dating App Novice Walk Into A Bar

Two of the first essays I ever published:

• Crystal Powers: My Date With A Googler - The Bold Italic

• New York Killed My Dating Life And I Couldn't Be Happier - Salon