Happy Book Birthday to my little pink book!
A year ago, at the end of Pride month, my first book made it out into the world. ‘Love that Journey for Me; the queer revolution of Schitt’s Creek’ wasn’t a book I ever thought I was going to write but it’s truly been a gift of a thing.
I got the idea midway through (trying) to write my Angels in America book. I was on a deep dive of procrastination and read an old interview with Dan Levy. Something he said in that interview really clicked with something in the Angels book (and yes, Dan Levy is quoted in that book) and from there I started thinking ‘ooh is this a bigger thing’ and when 404 Ink put a call out for their Inklings series, I threw in a proposal thinking ‘worth a shot’.
Luckily for me, they also thought it was worth a shot, and my little pink book ended up the first in that first Inklings series. Away from the content of the book I couldn’t be prouder of that, I think 404 Ink and the Inklings series are such an amazing opportunity for authors. Honestly, I’m sort of aware that anything else I publish won’t be as great an experience because from writing to being out in the world it's been hard to top. Being too in the company of such great authors and a diverse (in every sense) set of topics makes me so so proud. And of course, please support indie publishers and buy their books direct (you can do that here)
Beyond that of course it was a joy to share something, well joyous. Part of the reason I wanted to write the book was being stuck in a loop of really depressing research topics for years (when I say writing about one pandemic during another was not the one). The chance to write on queer joy was one I was so happy to do.
I’m also just a super nerd. And I love sharing what I love. My over-enthusiastic neurodivergent brain loves a ‘wow so did you know…’ moment and this book getting free from the constraints of academic writing, and with a little more space than any of my journalistic writing was such a joy to create and share. That too, so so many people seemed to share that joy was also something special.
Was it all smooth sailing? No of course not. I really struggled at times, I even drastically fell out of love with the show because of a lot of the noise around it. Until I realised it wasn’t the show I didn’t love, it was the noise.
It got personal a couple of times, and it’s hard as an author not to feel it isn’t about you. When feelings run high as they do in fandom it also gets personal quickly. It’s so hard when you've got something you’re so excited to share, and you want to share it with people who love the thing it’s about and yet…they don’t want it. And of course, there was a certain hardcore fandom set who didn’t want it. Who thought I don’t know I was trying to steal their crowns, encroach on the territory or whatever. I get that, anyone who has done any writing about something with a fan following gets that. But when you really love the thing and you just want to share the thing it also feels really sad that you don’t get to share the thing with people who love it. And really that’s all I can say to the small group of fans who didn’t warm to me or my little pink book; I just wanted to share a thing I love, just like you love it.
But recently I realised…I’m not writing for them. I’m writing for the person who saw it in a bookshop and went ‘oh my god someone’s a nerd like me’ I’m writing it for the lawyer I met yesterday who was taking a copy home for his son who loves the show. I’m writing it for the people who are a bit scared to buy a book with ‘queer’ on the front but did it anyway.
For me, it’s a weird full circle actually, that I didn’t realise until today. When I was in Uni, I bought one of my first books about something queer. It was for an essay, I can’t even remember what about now. But that book had (wait for it) ‘homosexuality’ in the title. My mum told me to take it upstairs where my dad wouldn’t see it, to save us some drama. And I did. Some fifteen or so years on not only do I have a whole library of queer books, but I wrote a book that loudly proclaims its queerness. That’s huge too.
It’s easy to assume it’s all easy now. When we have Schitt’s Creek on TV, Heartstopper and whole LGBTQIA+ sections of bookshops. But I remember going to Foyles and sneaking my way to the small LGBTQ section to look at books. I rarely bought any. But now I have a book in their Pride display. It was right there on the stairs. That’s huge. To go from hiding books to sneaking in to look at that section like it was wrong…to loudly proudly being part of it.
Because the world isn’t like Schitt’s Creek actually that’s the point. Even in my last pre-pandemic job, I didn’t feel comfortable being ‘out’ in the last two years I’ve grown massively with that, and this book has been a huge part of that.
Indirectly too, the book and Schitt’s Creek have now, perhaps somewhat infamously, become part of my second coming out (I know I’m greedy, I wanted the trauma twice). Through a combination of fanfiction, and writing about Patrick Brewer I came to realise I was asexual. Of course, this indirectly got me also the most backlash of anything I’ve ever written. That was hard. This show meant so much to me, and tangentially too because fanfiction helped me with that realisation the ‘fandom’ did too. But we, learn, we grow and I implore those fans who reacted badly to my finding something of myself in the show, even if it’s not a thing they see, to take a long look at what Dan Levy preaches; inclusion, tolerance, love. You don’t get to be an ally just for the bits that suit you, the bits that are easy. If you claim a show has made you an ally, step up, and practice what this show preaches. And maybe consider there’s a person who cried a lot of tears about their identity, behind your protection of a fictional character.
But beyond the noise there, beyond the tears, if I hadn’t written this book, I don’t think I’d have come out again, found my identity as an asexual person. That’s huge, and important and shows the power of sharing your stories. My life changed in professional ways, but also personal ones in writing this book. I hope I did a little bit of that for others too. Because the priority and the joy always were connecting with people who love the show. And I did that. Again in the noise, in the fact I have a brain that likes to focus on the negative, I forget how much I managed to do that. Through talks, I was invited to give, through blogs like this one, to conversations online. One of my proudest moments was being able to educate people who had never given AIDS activism a second thought, about what Dan Levy’s Met Gala outfit meant. That’s why I do this stuff.
That’s what made the book so important to me too. Getting to share the things I’m passionate about, getting to nerd out, yes. But also getting to maybe give someone somewhere something to think about. Maybe showing them how important coming out stories are- how difficult coming out sometimes is- or who realised why queer folks needed their stories.
And also it’s been so much fun. I can’t describe how exciting it is to see your book in book shops. I finally worked up the nerve to ask to sign them too, and it has been so much fun. As someone who often feels like a failure in other areas of my life to know I can always say I achieved the dream of being an author is huge.
To all the people who shared the book when they bought it. Who shared their words with me about it connecting with them, with what they thought and loved about the show. To everyone who said it meant something to have someone say those things. Thank you, you are what made it special.
So happy birthday little pink book. You made me a ‘real’ author. You gave me a space to be nerdy, a space to share the love for something I loved. You helped me connect with like-minded people. You opened doors professionally and you were part of changing my life personally.
Love that journey for me.
This is the part where I say you can buy said pink book here.