Do Something Good

So May just exploded in my face. In a good way. You know that coconut cream pie in the face that Scooby Doo licks off and enjoys.

But seriously.

So. Much. Is. Happening.

First of all, for the ENTIRE month of May, ALL of my profits from Hugging Death: Essays on Motherhood and Saying Goodbye will be donated to the Huntsman Cancer Institute. If you haven’t bought it, or think it might be a nice gift for someone, NOW is the time to buy it! Here’s the back cover blurb if you’re interested (and a picture of the book on my beautifully weedy lawn). Also, I’ll be signing this Saturday May 4th from 2-4 at Barnes and Noble, so you can pick up a signed copy there if you’d like.

Everyone’s mother is dead or dying. It is nothing new, nothing ceasing, nothing fresh or interesting. But when your mother is dying and when this dying insists at once that you take notice of it, you feel her bones in your own and that insistence stretches into the vision you have of your own life. This short collection of essays explores life and death–what they take, what they give, and what they leave behind.

And since we’re talking non-fiction, I’ve been working with my friend, Laura Andrade, on her memoir, Four Seconds for the last three years or so. It’s finally out!!! I’ll put the blurb here. And then walk, not run, to your, uh, nearest computer to order it off of Amazon. It will be on Barnes and Noble soon and we’ll be having a signing there, but that’s a few months away still. Back cover blurb coming at you!

“I’m not going to try it,” I said. 

“You’ll like it,” she argued. 

“I know I’ll like it,” I said. “That’s why I’m not going to try it.” 

“Try it just this once and I’ll never ask you to do it again.” 

That was a deal. I slipped back into the driver’s seat while Pat corn-rowed two neat lines of the silky white powder on the back of a plastic cassette tape cover. 

Fifteen hundred dollars every month, an abusive boyfriend, a molested child, a lost family, hotels for houses, a ruined leg, a gun to my head, a knife to my butt, a jail cell all my own. Black eyes, bruised days, broken hours. 
Looking back, it seems strange what I gave up to get my roommate off my back. 

It only took four seconds. 

***

In her debut memoir, Andrade tells of her years with cocaine and crystal methamphetamines—using, then selling—until all she had left of the life she wanted was a chalk outline and a pack of cigarettes. This is the story of her use and recovery, of the people who frustrated and inspired her, of her decision to leave the drug world.

And if that’s not enough bookish event-ing for you, I’ll be at Comic Quest for FREE COMIC BOOK DAY.  I’ll be there signing Grey Stone and Grey Lore (and any other books you want me to sign) from 10-1:30 on May 4th (and May the fourth be with you).