TODAY'S THE DAY!

Man, oh man, am I ever nervous.

Once upon a time, there was a permanently light-headed 24-year-old named Emma. She lived in Manhattan and rollerbladed to work every morning. Her office was on 24th and 6th, in a building filled with children pretending to be adults. Her breakfast was half a protein bar, and lunch was 15 carrots and 2 tablespoons of peanut butter.

She wanted desperately to be a writer.

That was almost four years ago. In the time since, I’ve changed in more ways than I can count. I don’t live in New York. I work in my apartment. I’m not permanently light-headed anymore. I eat three full meals a day, plus snacks and the occasional dessert (last night was ice cream).

And, best of all, I write.

Writing is my full-time job. Every morning, I wake up, snuggle my dog, see my fiancé off to work, then sit down at my desk with scrambled eggs and toast to get some words onto paper. 24-year-old Emma would never believe that this is her life now.

Nothing is ever perfect, of course. Every day is still a battle with my mental health. Eating disorders were a great way to numb myself from the pain of having crippling OCD and anxiety, but now that I’m healthy, I have no choice but to feel all the emotions that starvation kept me from feeling.

I’m a criminal over-sharer. I know I am. I’m way too open about what’s going on in my head, and sometimes it makes the people around me feel uncomfortable. But, to be perfectly honest, I’m fine with making a few people uncomfortable if my openness helps many more.

If you haven’t gotten your copy of GG yet, it’s now live on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookshop.org, Target, or at your local bookstore. You can read it in paperback, ebook, or listen to it as an audiobook.

I included a little preview for you below.

The first 2 pages of Guy’s Girl

Ginny isn’t sure which came first—the bad habit or the boy.

They showed up at almost exactly the same time, like two trains pulling into one station from opposite directions. And when they left, it took much longer for one to go than the other.

On the surface, the two seem completely disconnected—one a human being, the other a human defect—but at their core, they’re both powered by the same thing: false versions of love. One the wrong way to love another, the other the wrong way to love yourself. 

She didn’t mean to become bulimic. Does anyone? Does anyone go out looking for mental illness? Well, she didn’t, in any case. It just kind of happened. Just the way things did with Finch—piece by piece, she fell into something intoxicating, something dangerous, and by the time she realized what was happening, it was already too late. 

~~~

Adrian remembers the exact moment he decided not to fall in love.

He was eleven. His mother hadn’t stopped crying in a week. He didn’t quite understand what had happened with her and Scott. In fact, it would be years before he grasped the full breadth of his stepfather’s betrayal.

He climbed the rickety stairs of their new home in Indianapolis, one half of a duplex they shared with a cloudy-eyed couple who had strange pockmarks all over their faces. A bowl of porridge balanced in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. His mother wouldn’t eat, but he still had to try.

He nudged open her bedroom door. Inside, she was curled up on her side. Even unconscious, she looked miserable. Wrinkled forehead. Puffy eyelids. Lips moving silently, as if in prayer.

He set the bowl and mug down on the bedside table.

I don’t want it, he thought. I don’t want it, and I never will.

~~~

That’s it. The only thing I have left to say to you, person who subscribed to my newsletter, is this: THANK YOU. It is the support of people like you that has enabled me to get to where I am now.

All my love,

Emma