twenty-five felt like flying
This is going to be a long one. Sorry. To paraphrase Phoebe Bridgers herself, “I wrote you a newsletter, but you don’t have to read it.”
Let me take you back to Summer 2020 for a minute. I know, nobody wants to return there, but I’m trying to set the mood. As I was gearing up to start writing Love in the Time of Serial Killers, I was stuck in my house, getting more and more feral, feeling both a deepening mistrust toward my neighbors but an increasing need to just connect with someone, anyone. (Since this is a vibe in LITTOSK, now you know where it came from lol.)
I loved Phoebe Bridgers’ first album Stranger in the Alps, so when she released Punisher that summer, it was basically all I listened to for a month. I tuned in to all of her IG live performances, even had my son help set me up to watch a virtual concert she put on through Minecraft. (To this day he thinks that’s one of the coolest things that’s ever happened.) So it was no wonder that, when I started to write, the album was a low hum in the background, permeating everything. I mean, I don’t know what I want/until I fuck it up — has a better distillation of a romance “dark night of the soul” ever been written? I don’t think so.
Of all the songs, though, “Kyoto” was the one that resonated the most deeply, and directly informed the main character of Love in the Time of Serial Killers.
Who I named Phoebe. After Phoebe Bridgers.
(This didn’t feel weird to me at all until now, when I’m like, well, that’s embarrassing. But also I love the name! In this next section, when I talk about “Phoebe” I’m meaning the character, not the singer.)
Let’s take a journey through this perfect song, shall we?
Day off in Kyoto
Got bored at the temple
Looked around at the 7-Eleven
The band took the speed train
Went to the arcade
I wanted to go, but I didn't
So much of this song is about ambivalence to me, that uncomfortable feeling we get when we’re not sure what to feel about something, or when we’re holding conflicting emotions within us. You’re in a foreign country, seeing sites that are objectively very cool, and yet you find yourself wanting to return to the comfort of what you know, even if it’s a seemingly soulless convenience store. Your friends are going out, having fun, and you want to join them, but for some reason you just . . . don’t.
At one point in LITTOSK, Phoebe thinks to herself, “It was exhausting, not wanting things.” Of course, what she means is that it’s exhausting always convincing yourself that you don’t want the very things you’re absolutely desperate for. To want is to open yourself up to too much, but the effort to stay closed up also takes it out of you.
You called me from a payphone
They still got payphones
It cost a dollar a minute
To tell me you're getting sober
And you wrote me a letter
But I don't have to read it
In LITTOSK, Phoebe’s father died unexpectedly before the events of the book, and she comes to clean out his house in Florida. The usual feelings of grief are complicated by the fact that Phoebe didn’t have a great relationship with her dad. Every part of this verse is so beautiful and perfect to me I almost don’t know how to describe it.
Sunset's been a freak show
On the weekend, so
I've been driving out to the suburbs
To park at the Goodwill
And stare at the chemtrails
With my little brother
I actually had no idea what the first two lines of this verse were until I looked up the lyrics to write this newsletter. I feel like her phrasing of them is really unique and interesting, but also maybe I just don’t always hear lyrics that clearly and this one’s on me.
Fun (TMI?) fact is that I can always tell when I’m about to start my period because something about the way she sings “with my little brother” will really get to me and I can’t finish the rest of the song. This line is single-handedly responsible for Phoebe having a little brother in LITTOSK, which I’m grateful for because he’s one of my favorite characters.
He said you called on his birthday
You were off by like ten days
But you get a few points for tryin'
Remember getting the truck fixed
When you let us drive it
Twenty-five felt like flying
I know I’ve been like “this is my favorite verse,” “no actually this one,” so I have no credibility at this point, but hand over heart, final answer, this is my favorite verse in the entire song. Part of the reason I gave Phoebe a little brother character was because there’s a special relationship between siblings, I think, when they’ve both had to deal with toxic or emotionally neglectful parents.
There’s also something so poignant about holding on to those small, good memories — even among the painful ones. Like no matter how bad it got, there was that time your dad let you drive his truck and you remember the wind in your hair, how fast it felt like you were going, the sheer joy and freedom of it. How do you separate those feelings from the feelings of resentment or hurt? You can’t. They all exist together.
Guess I lied
I'm a liar
Who lies
'Cause I'm a liar
Phoebe is totally a liar — in the way that a lot of us are. She’s writing her dissertation on true crime, and even though it’s a subject she knows very well, she can’t help but feel like a fraud as everything is all coming to a head with her defense and graduation. She lies to herself about who she is and what she wants. She’s always like hahahaha I have a black heart, and people are like, “What? No you don’t.” I think we tell ourselves stories about who we are, and then we believe them. It’s good to interrogate those stories sometimes.
Last night, I went to see Phoebe Bridgers in person at the Ybor Cuban Club. The show was unreal on many levels — just seeing live music felt transcendent. It was also SO FUCKING hot and humid, like I live here and am “used to it” and was still dying. The opener, Charlie Hickey, was charming and super good. I could keep you here for 3,000 more words about Phoebe’s performance, but in the interest of brevity I’ll just say she has the voice of an angel and she played all the songs I was most dying to hear but in particular “Chinese Satellite” just hit different under the open night sky.
I vacillated back and forth on whether I wanted to try to personalize an ARC of LITTOSK for her and bring it to the show. Her music is so meaningful to me, you know? But also it’s meaningful to a lot of people, she hears about it so much maybe it’s just static to her, I don’t know. Also, if her taste in authors is Sally Rooney and Carmen Maria Machado that is a HIGH BAR and I’m not sure I’m clearing it, ya feel.
But Reader, I did it. When I went to buy the latest Charlie Hickey album Nervous at Night, I talked with the bassist and was like, “I wrote this book, I know this is awkward, but if you wouldn’t mind trying to get it to Phoebe I’d really appreciate it.” And she took it and was like, “Wow, you wrote a book? That sounds hard.”
WHICH BY THE WAY IS PRETTY MUCH THE PERFECT RESPONSE. If someone tells you they wrote a book, just validate how hard that sounds and it will wash over them like a warm bath I promise you.
Anyway. As I wrote in my note to Phoebe in the ARC: “This may be cringe but fuck it!” Not a bad life motto.
A few links before I let you go:
You can preorder Love in the Time of Serial Killers if you’re so inclined!
If you do preorder, you can fill out this form with your information and receipt to receive some cool swag (a postcard, art print, and sticker sheet)!
Of course, if you preorder through my local indie, you will automatically receive all the swag, PLUS I’d love to sign/personalize your book for you!
If you like the chance to win free shit (who doesn’t like free shit), there’s a Goodreads giveaway for my book running through June 20!
Currently reading . . . Something you should know about me — I love a good celebrity memoir, and I fucking love a good sports memoir. “Good” is subjective, of course, but for me it often has the most to do with how vulnerable and deep the person gets, how much they grapple with what psychology they brought into fame, and then how their weird and interesting life has affected that psychology. With this standard, Andre Agassi’s Open is TOP NOTCH. I don’t even care about tennis. My knowledge of Andre Agassi going in was that I think I remember him and Brooke Shields in a picture with Olympic gymnast Dominique Moceanu (my favorite athlete as a kid). One line that really stood out to me, and that I’ve been ruminating on and reeling from ever since, coming after he finally won his first slam at Wimbledon: “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.” OOOOF. This is so true. Why is it so true?! Why are humans the way that we are?
watching . . . I’ve been watching Damages because I was hanging with two friends who like almost LEAPT OUT OF THEIR SEATS when they found out I’d never seen it. I do love me some legal drama. Also, I love Rose Byrne. Also also I get weirdly excited when I see Peter Facinelli in something? I think because of his roles in early ‘00s teen movies like Can’t Hardly Wait?
listening to . . . Obviously, I’ve had Harry’s House on repeat since it came out. My initial, gut-reaction Top Five Songs were: “Late Night Talking",” “Little Freak,” “Matilda,” “Satellite,” and “Love of My Life,” but of course every time I listen I find a new nook and cranny of another song to love. “As It Was” is still also a standout song, but since it was released early as a single I feel like it needs to recuse itself from consideration until the other songs have time to catch up. No matter what, hella exciting time to be a sushi restaurant.