Needing Adult Supervision

Wednesday is about books. And writing. Today a plug for a new book that is brilliant. And a story a bit about writers and friendships on the side.

Last week I attended a book launch. I’m not the biggest fan of book launches. I’m always really happy for the author. I’ve been there too – I’ve written two books and therefore had two book launches. People attended my launches. And I was grateful. They bought books. And I signed them. There was – of course – some slight anxiety around it. Would anyone bother? Etc. And there’s also this feeling of it being something you have to do.

Just a requirement.

I mean you want to have a celebration for all the hard work. But you’re also expected to.

I don’t like going to book launches because of all of that, and because you barely get to see the person that made the book – and because I’ve been to loads. So, I’m a bit sick of them. (Just being honest). But I’m so happy I stepped out last week. It was a lovely launch.

My friend Emily Writes launched her third book. I think it’s her best book too. It’s called Needs Adult Supervision – and you can buy it where you get your books. It’s online and in stores, and if you’re in Christchurch, there’s a launch this weekend – I believe Auckland’s was last night…

I haven’t asked her about this, but I wonder if Emily likes being called A Parenting Writer about as much as I like being called A Music Writer.

You have to work hard to shake off such tags.

I met Emily before she was Emily Writes. In another life, we’d meet after work and have a beer in a bar downtown and talk about writing. We’d watch the annual Wrestlemania pay-per-view extravaganza and have nachos, and talk about horror movies and heavy metal, and when I was a stay at home dad and she was a brand new mum we’d take our babies for drives, or hang out and talk about writing, and changing nappies, and worry about the world and dream kinda big but also not that big really.

When Emily became Emily Writes it was all because of a single blog post. And I might not have the timing right, but it was either on that very night that she went viral or right around that time that I picked her up and took her to a Slash concert as my plus one.

Since then, she’s blogged as a voice of reason for mothers, for parents – as a friend, as a comedian, as a journalist, as voice of compassion. She’s shared the stories of her family and been more emotionally honest (and bloody funny) than many writers could ever summon, or in fact fathom.

And it hasn’t always brought bouquets. There have been the crowded in-boxes to clear, angry men uppity at a woman with an opinion. There has been the massive self-doubt. There has been cruelty and anger and controversy. And like most writers, Emily is not without fault or guilt, she has walked into some of the traps – maybe even self-sabotaged or set a trap or two for herself. I believe that’s one of the things about being regular with writing and being emotionally honest. I might even add a line about how I know something about those particular problems. Later, I’ll possibly delete that line. If you’re reading this now, you’ll never know how long I pondered about leaving it in vs. taking it out.

Last week I stood and watched my friend summon strength and courage of conviction to stand proud and read from a very wise, funny, thoughtful book. A collection of ‘columns’ (I guess). Think pieces, short essays, mantras, moments. Stories, importantly…

She, like me, has done a bunch of writing for herself (for free) and for various (paid) media platforms.

She shares these sorts of pieces these days on her Substack.

She is the reason I started this Substack.

I’ll share with you some of the support writers give each other. I love the little circle of this. Emily reached out to me many years ago. She wanted some advice on interviewing. I didn’t know if I could give such a thing, but I always like to meet writers and talk to them about process. That was the first beer. Or coffee. Or both.

We hit it off and became friends. And I was blogging up a storm at the time, and possibly some of my work there was useful to her, as some sort of influence or inspiration. I don’t mean the actual words, just the dedication to doing it. I was a five-times-a-week blogger, with a day job and various other side-hustles. The work itself might not have always worked, but no one could say I wasn’t getting down to doing it!

Emily very quickly became her own cottage industry. A voice on radio and TV, a writer for parents in need of a reminder that they were doing their best and that the world was cruel, and stuff was hard. Her writing was funny and charming and outrageous and compassionate and wise. (And it still is).

Her first book, Rants In The Dark, was turned into a brilliant play. Her second book, Is It Bedtime Yet?, was filled with the words of other writers as Emily extended the platform. Selflessly, she shared important voices that might not have otherwise made it out into the world. There is some beautiful material in that book.

At some point, nearly two years ago now, Emily told me about this thing called Substack. Urged me to have a go. Told me she’d back me. She was my first paid subscriber.

A few years before that, we talked for my podcast. And she was experiencing some major difficulties. Online bullying and abuse which of course leads to a crisis of confidence. She candidly spoke of a breakdown. She created one of the most listened to episodes of Sweetman Podcast – and none of it was for show. I mean, yes, we had hit record – because that’s generally what you do in the delivering of a podcast. But it was a real, honest, raw conversation. Neither of us knew what was going to come out when we hit record. We’re both prone to gasbagging and oversharing. We stood and hugged in the room at the end of that podcast. And I feel you can feel that as you listen to it. The entire podcast episode is meant as a hug. From me to her. From her to you.

My hope is we’ll talk again for the podcast – and soon. She will be the first fourth time guest. And I couldn’t think of a more worthy person. Each time we’ve talked she’s had a book to plug or a project on the go. But that’s just been the catalyst for a funny, moving, emotional and open dialogue.

That’s actually a great description for her writing too – especially what’s on offer in Needs Adult Supervision. These are funny, moving, emotional pieces of open dialogue. Sure, it’s just one half of the dialogue – one side. One person. But it’s that voice that provides the comfort for many parents. And more than that, it is the writer just reaching out to a person, to an audience: Parent or not.

So, a plug for my friend’s book. Go buy it. Read it. Share it. Gift it. You’ll get lockdown stories; you’ll get huge laughs. You’ll have tears. You’ll want to pass the book on to someone else in your life.

I’m so glad I went to that launch. Some book launches are worth it. All book launches remind you that there’s a huge achievement there just wanting, nervously, to be celebrated. And, anyway, we all need Adult Supervision, right?