Sometimes Art DOESN'T Imitate Life!

On writing about beginnings while experiencing an ending

Sooooo I’m writing this new book.

It’s a nonfiction teen guide to menstrual justice, aka the social justicy (justicey?) period primer I wanted my daughter but does not yet exist. (If you are also looking for a social justicy book about periods but can’t find one, fear not! Mine is supposed to come out in 2027!) It’s very, very cool to get to write a book you want to see in the world, Toni Morrison style, and know how to get it published.

It’s also very, very weird.

Actual footage of me at my computer.

I’m writing about beginnings while experiencing an ending.

This book is for teen menstruators (of all genders!), which means it’s aimed at kiddos who are just staring their period. I, on the other hand, am writing this book as I’m ending my period. As in, the average age of menopause for South Asian women is 46-47. Your girl is 45 (belated happy birthday to me, Leos 4eva). Which means that even though this is technically a work of nonfiction, at times, it feels a little bit like a memoir.

Things are always starting and stopping.

Even though my period is ending, my life with this new book is beginning. It’s the thing I’m going to be talking about constantly for the next 5 years at least. I’ll be talking about it while I write it in newsletters like this. I’ll be talking about it while convincing people to preorder, and I’ll be promoting it and putting it in my byline until my next book comes out which, let’s be honest, is not any time soon. When the past recedes, it feels like plunging into the unknown. It’s kind of comforting, then, to know that at least a part of my future is book-shaped.

Still, there’s a lot I don’t know. I wonder what it’s going to be like to talk publicly about menstruation as a memory, rather than a reality. I wonder what it’s going to be like to discuss this book as a thing I’ve written, as a bunch of words set in stone, rather than a work in progress that is still figuring out what it wants to be. Maybe most of all, I wonder what is going to start when the writing process ends.

Right now, writing another book feels insanely hard (see above re: severe lack of estrogen). Still, as a compulsive writer, I know it’s likely that, at some point, it won’t. At some point, I’ll be back in my word documents forgetting to eat, sleep, make eye contact, or be human. At least, I’m hoping I will - or, if I’m not, that I’ll be writing something else, starting something new, and being creative in whatever way makes sense.

What are you starting and ending, creatively or otherwise? Tell us in the comments!

Also, if you have a book you want to start / finish / use to fuel your unhealthy obsessions, sign up for coaching with meeeeeee!!!