six am day after christmas

"brick" by ben folds five & post-pub blues

One reason why “Brick” by Ben Folds Five is such an elite song to me — it really tells a story. From that very first verse — six am day after Christmas/I throw some clothes on in the dark/the smell of cold/car seat is freezing/the world is sleeping/I am numb. The minute the piano comes in, six am day after Christmas — that shit is sad. This is going to be a sad song. There is no sadder day than the day after Christmas.

The video for “Brick” was in heavy rotation in the “Pop Up Video” sets, which is truly one of the things from the ‘90s I miss the most. I want to read the same mundane or obvious fact about a song for the third time through. (For example, they loved that the band was called “Ben Folds Five” but there were only three members!) One fact about this song I only learned later, though, was that the main line in the chorus (she’s a brick and I’m drowning slowly) was written by the drummer, and was something they already had and were looking to fit into a song somewhere. So when Ben Folds decided at the last minute to write an autobiographical song about this experience he’d had — of going with his high school girlfriend to get an abortion — that line ended up fitting in perfectly. Surprised Pop Up Video wasn’t more on top of that one tbh.

Alternate titles for this newsletter: “i’m feeling more alone than i ever have before”/ “as weeks went by it showed that she was not fine” but I’m trying to thread the needle between a cry for help and a Cry for Help ya feel me

Look, I’m not telling you anything you can’t have already figured out when I tell you that I have been impossibly depressed the last month or so. When I’m listening to “Brick” on a Saturday night and making Ben Wyatt memes we’re in trouble. Another deep dive on Stephan Jenkins? This is not a mentally well-adjusted person. I posted an Instagram story about having a Pumpkin Spice Latte and an IRL friend sent me a very kind text checking in on me lolol I’m not even kidding.

The point is, I feel like I’ve been writing around the subject of this newsletter and finally I decided fuck it, I’ll just name what it is. I’m hella depressed! And some of it is post-pub blues and some of it is other stuff but I thought I’d at least talk about the post-pub blues part because I think it’s pretty common, actually. It’s helped me to hear that from other authors, so I’ll say it, too. I think it’s a very common experience to feel a big let-down in the six weeks or so after your book comes out.

For one thing, it’s a bit of the “day after Christmas” feeling. There’s all this lead-up and adrenaline and excitement and anxiety, and then you have this BIG DAY where your social media notifications are insane and everyone is celebrating you, and then you have maybe a few other events or milestones or cool stuff happen, and then it’s just . . . over. It feels like everyone showed up at your surprise party but then they all had to head out to other parties.

And on the one hand, I love when things calm down. If I’m going to continue with my own analogy, I low-key hate surprise parties. I’ve cried when the waiter at an Olive Garden came out to sing me “Happy Birthday” before. All that attention, no thank you!!! But there’s still something so anti-climactic about the aftermath that can be a little jarring.

Did Ben Folds Five get a lot of hate for this song? This is a sincere question. I’m not super up on my Ben Folds Five lore despite once having a housemate who played the Ben Folds and WASO Live in Perth concert DVD over and over and over.

Post-release is also the first time you start getting a steady stream of outside feedback, finding out sales numbers, etc., which — let’s just say that I’ve been referencing Andre Agassi’s memoir a lot when he says, “A win doesn’t feel as good as a loss feels bad, and the good feeling doesn’t last as long as the bad. Not even close.” (Me: “When Andre Agassi finally won Wimbledon . . .” The people in my life: “Jesus Christ, not again.” I don’t even watch tennis!!! I’m just a fan of sports memoirs where they talk about how much of a mindfuck sports can be.)

But it’s true. The good stuff feels good but only for a minute, while the bad stuff can really stick with you. And then sometimes the stuff that seems good actually feels bad. For example, I get tagged in a lot of reviews for Love in the Time of Serial Killers like the above comment to the “Brick” video, that basically say, “I don’t know why people hate this character, I love her!” which shockingly does . . . not make me feel the love. And while I’ve been in my little funk I’ve thought a lot about how my mental state is not reviewers’ responsibility, they are certainly not supposed to be able to tell that I’m in an extra fragile place and so their words might hit harder. Then again, that is a good reason to be more thoughtful in your tagging — you just don’t know what someone else might be going through. Even a single sentence can really stay with you sometimes. (Still thinking about a review of With Love, from Cold World that called it a “tad” queer. What does that mean?! These are all things I’m tagged in so I am not seeking them out; they are being brought into my life!!!)

Anyway. Should I be writing this newsletter? I don’t know. Maybe a few months from now I’ll look back on it and think, man, you were going through it, but you didn’t need to be so public about it. But it does help me to write it all out, and I comfort myself a little to think maybe it helps someone else, too, just to know that if you’re feeling this way you’re not alone. Writing in particular can be such a solitary venture, and there are so many parts of it that bring out our vulnerabilities and test our confidence. At least part of my emotional downturn has probably been brought to you by the fact that I love drafting and hate editing, and I’ve been stuck doing the latter for the last three weeks.

The Adventures of Pete & Pete

The parts of “Brick” that usually get me to cry are either the line and I walk down to buy her flowers/ and sell some gifts that I got or the bridge when he sings they told me, “son, it’s time to tell the truth”/ and she broke down and I broke down/ ’cause I was tired of lying. They just sound so young in those lines. You really feel the weight of the entire situation on them, and they’re just kids.

Just so this newsletter isn’t a 100% downer from start to finish, I’ll leave you with a few things that have been cheering me up lately. I don’t know why, but I have been LIVING for Drew Barrymore’s IG post about how she’s crossing the picket line to resume her show, and all the comments (rightfully) calling her out for the decision. The phrase “with an astute humility” is one I will be using for some time. It’s too good.

I’ve also been going to a lot of baseball games in person, because we prepaid some money at the start of the season and then didn’t use it all, so we’ve been trying to spend it out. I’m never going to defend Tropicana Field as one of the best stadiums in baseball, but I AM going to defend it as a place that feels like home to me. Which is why when Baseball Twitter trots out the same tired takes about how the Trop sucks, I’m just like:

Currently reading . . . I’m still reading Long Past Summer by Noué Kirwan, because I’ve been busy with edits and it’s also a thick, juicy book that feels like it deserves to have time spent with it. It’s told in these “now” and “then” chapters, and I’m really on the edge of my seat trying to figure out all the dynamics between these characters both in the past and now that they’re adults and have all this complicated history. A little thematic to this newsletter — there’s this one part in the past where he comes up to NYC to visit her even though they’d broken up, and this is the way Kirwan describes the moment:

The garish Christmas lights that Mikaela had recently learned the restaurants kept up year-round, reflected different colors onto his face, so for a moment he was red, then yellow and then green.

“I needed to see you,” Cameron admitted quietly.

There was something pitiable in the way he said it that made Mikaela feel potent and enigmatic and yet monstrous in her sudden power over him. She smiled to herself, wickedly. And he smiled back, mistaking this as charitable.

“I wanted to see you too.” She acceded to the unspoken plea in his eyes, instantly neutering the monster.

I loved all the nuance in that section. I also just started Girls and Their Horses by Eliza Jane Brazier on audio — narrated by the same narrator who did Yellowface, Helen Laser. I’m really enjoying it so far — I’m always here for a “niche community who are all obsessive over something” type suspense novel. Vibes are impeccable.

watching . . . It’s September and the Rays are in the playoff hunt so of course I’m watching baseball. They’re playing in Minnesota now against the Twins, who have a player named Max Kepler, and one of our players came out of the game yesterday after being hit by a pitch. Those all happen to be little Baseball Book easter eggs so I thought I’d mention them ;)

listening to . . . Since I’ve been so melancholy lately I thought, “what would bring your mood up? What do you need?” And it turns out my answer to that was . . . Avril Lavigne. I’ve been having a lot of fun listening to her first four albums all shuffled up. She’s such a brat and I mean that in the most loving, grateful way because I’ve sung along to like eight different remixes of “Girlfriend” and each one has been healing.