
It gives me more joy than you can possibly imagine to announce that a book I edited, On Being 40(ish)
, will be released by Simon & Schuster on February 5th, 2019. This book was a delight from start to finish, and working with my incomparable agent Brettne Bloom and editor par excellence Christine Pride was a complete pleasure. Anyone who’s been reading this blog for a bit knows this is a lifelong dream for me. I hope there will be more books.
The fifteen artists whose work is included in the book are all people I respect and admire, and I can say without hesitation that these pieces will make you laugh, cry, and nod in identification. This book is about a particular decade of life, but it’s also about being an aware, sentient human being in general. I will be giving copies to many, many people I know come the winter and spring, and I hope you will too!
You can preorder On Being 40(ish)
and I hope you will. Most of all, I hope you love it. Please let me know!
Also, a giveaway: I’ll send an advance copy to someone who comments here I’ll draw randomly tomorrow at 8am so please leave a comment for your chance to win our book!
I’m happy that our first two trade reviews were positive! They are here:
Kirkus:
Fifteen women share their thoughts about life’s transitions. In her debut book, journalist Mead gathers essays by women in their late 30s to early 50s, reflecting on love, friendship, careers, family, dating, and self-image, among many other issues that have become important as they face a challenging new decade of their lives. Although the editor underscores the “divergent voices” in the collection, the majority of the contributors are white, middle-class, successful writers (one, Sujean Rim, is an illustrator who offers a cartoon about giving up skinny jeans). They do, however, reveal diverse experiences: Meghan Daum, memoirist columnist for the New York Times Book Review, has settled into single life and a fruitful career in Manhattan; still, she feels a “current of constant low-grade shock…about how old I’ve managed to become.” KJ Dell’Antonia, editor of the New York Times’ “Motherlode” column, apologizes for not answering an email message because of the many more important tasks (buying bread, snuggling her son) that occupy her time. Essayist Sloane Crosley assesses the changes in her middle-aged face. Two particularly moving pieces concern friendship: Catherine Newman’s chronicle of the outfits she and her best friend wore, beginning in kindergarten, in 1972, and ending in 2015, when Newman cherishes her friend’s tunics, yoga pants, and Ugg boots after she died of ovarian cancer. “I am wearing my heart on my sleeve,” she writes, “my memories like a crazy quilt of loss.” It took a shattered bone for novelist Allison Winn Scotch, who prided herself on being stubbornly independent, to see that friends and family can be extraordinarily caring, “more worthy than you realized, even when you already found them worthy enough.” The essays are interspersed with brief remarks about the biggest surprise, most important lesson, or most salient mantra gleaned from getting older and, the writers hope, wiser. “Everything looks better, feels better, and is way more manageable in the morning,” offers Lee Woodruff, whose husband’s (journalist Bob Woodruff) roadside bomb injury was the subject of one of her memoirs. Candid, often charming revelations from a host of articulate women.
Publisher’s Weekly:
Journalist Mead presents charming, relatable, and wise essays from 15 female writers between the ages of 40 and 50 on insights gleaned from reaching their fifth decade. Though the women have different goals, priorities, and accomplishments, certain commonalities emerge, most notably gratitude, confidence, and an ironclad sense of self they could not have imagined for themselves as younger women. Meghan Daum describes coming to grips with her preference for a solitary life devoted to work, while Jill Kargman recalls beginning an acting career at age 39, demonstrating there is always potential for a surprising new act in life. (She also evinces a flair for metaphor, declaring, “We become balsamic reductions as we age—our very best parts distilled and clarified.”) Other essays look back with a hard-won, sometimes wistful sense of perspective, as in Catherine Newman’s poetic piece, which uses decades of fashion choices to narrate the story of losing her twin sister to ovarian cancer. Taken as a group, these personal narratives argue that aging is a process of shedding the inconsequential and acquiring a laser focus on the truly essential. Without a hint of preachiness, this is a practical guide to navigating life for anyone who has passed the milestone of 40.
https://www.publishersweekly.com/978-1-5011-7212-0