Tess is a team player.
Here is how the first conversation went.
Me: Hey you guys.
Mom: Hey.
Dad: Hey.
Me: I got asked to be in an anthology!
Them: What! That’s great news!
Me: Yes! It’s an anthology about the human experience!
Mom: Wow…that’s so exciting.
Dad: Really? What about the human experience?
Me: Some of the parts of the human experience that you and I don’t often chat about!
Them: [dead silence]
Me: It’s a non-fiction sex anthology! Now don’t say anything yet.
Dad: That sounds cool!
Me: Wait, excuse me.
Mom: Can we have a copy? What are you going to write about? Oh, this is just great!
Me: Now I know you probably have concerns…
Dad: Wow, a book!
Me: Dad. It’s a sex book. Mom. Hello. Non-fiction sexy-time book writing. Now before you protest, let me —
Mom: Oh, stop that. Who cares.
Dad: Don’t be a prude. You’re not writing for your parents. Chill out.
Me: Well, it’s called Coming & Crying.
Mom: That’s funny!
Dad: L-O-L!
Me: Okay, this went better than I thought. I’m going to go tell Peter.
Mom: Yeah, sure!
Dad: [to my mom] It’s like she thought we’d be uncomfortable. I mean, we read her blog. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha.
Mom: Ha ha ha.
[they laugh at me as I hang up, confused]
This is how the second conversation went:
Me: I have some good news, and I have some complicated news!
Peter: Ooh, good news!
Me: I’m writing for an anthology!
Peter: That’s great! What about?
Me: Oh, just some non-fiction, nothing fictional at all. Just about, you know…well, it’s called Coming & Crying.
Peter: You’re not going to write about me, are you?
Me: No, I felt like that would be a little too weird.
Peter: You’re not writing about someone else, are you?
Me: Strictly speaking no, not anybody in particular.
Peter: What’s the complicated news?
Me: That was the complicated news.
Peter: Oh. Can I get a copy?
Me: Why aren’t you squirming uncomfortably?
Peter: Why should I squirm?
Me: I just want to make sure that you understand that the “coming” refers to —
Peter: Tess.
Me: Okay. So you know that when they say “coming” — I’m just saying this so I make sure you understand that what I’ll be writing about is —
Peter: Tess. Why are you being such a prude?
Me: So it’s perfectly fine for me to write about this.
Peter: You can write whatever you want!
Me: [really?] Oh, right, yeah, of course I can.
This is how the third conversation went:
Me: Hi Pam.
Pam: Hi.
Me: Good to see you here for a dinner of salad.
Pam: Let’s have some wine!
Me: You might want a lot of wine.
Pam: Why?
Me: Because…(bracing myself, talking fast) so like okay so I’m writing for this book and I didn’t ask your permission first so I changed your name, don’t worry about me having changed your name, which I did, but — let’s order wine.
Pam: You can’t start something like that and then make me wait for wine.
Me: Or can I? [we wait in silence for the wine. I wait as Pam drinks, pausing after each sip to let me talk except I won’t until the glass is empty and another has been poured] Okay?
Pam: That was a lot of wine.
Me: You’re in a story in a sex anthology and there’s nothing you can do about it because I sent it already.
Pam: Oh, sweet!
Me: Pam, don’t freak. Look. We were really young and nobody will know it was you. Except Lucy, if she reads it, she’ll know it’s you.
Pam: I don’t talk to Lucy anymore, she weirds me out.
Me: Great, then only you and I will know. And I have like a hundred friends named Pam so there’s some ambiguity. But let me buy you dinner. I feel horrible. I should have asked you first.
Pam: Oh, shut up, who cares. Can I get a copy of the book?
Me: Here’s what I did: I tried to keep you in mind as a reader. I tried to set boundaries. But I kind of ended up saying “fuck the boundaries.” I’m infinitely sorry. Maybe I can buy you a cashmere throw or something. God, I’m sorry.
Pam: What’s the matter with you? What’s the book called?
Me: Coming & Crying.
Pam: Ha! That’s a great name!
Me: Forgive me Pam!
Pam: You’re coming off as strangely prudish. I don’t get you.
Me: I’m only prudish in retrospect.
I’m really excited for this book. It’s the first time I’ve been in a book. It’s the first time I’ve written non-fiction about sex. I’m glad my first was with two ladies I really trust.
(via tesslynch)
Tess Lynch lives out in LA, grew up in New York, can currently be found on your television starring in a Crest™ Commericial (!!!), and is one of my favorite writers on the world wide web. She’s hilarious, smart, genuine, and oftentimes delightfully, well, weird. Ya know, in a good way. A good, smart way. The best way! One of my favorite examples of the Tess Lynch Good-Weird are her much-beloved Fake Dinner Party Conversations, wherein she pretend-invites real characters into her actual home to have imaginary conversations and then writes about them.
Naturally, we thought this was the best way to introduce her:
Tess, Meaghan, William Shakespeare and Judy Blume are sitting around a conference table.
Meaghan: So, Tess, how do you feel about the ambiguity of writing for the internet? You know, considering yourself a writer, but fighting the distinction of “writer versus blogger,” creating an audience yourself as opposed to —
William Shakespeare: Bring forth my vittles, for this is a celebration that calls each son of man to dine and imbibe the finest distillation of the grapes of our labor!
Judy Blume: Yeah, where’s the dinner? Isn’t this a dinner party?
Tess: No no, it’s an interview. You guys are going to ask me questions.
William Shakespeare: But what countrywoman, who sayest thou thou art?
Tess: I’m Tess Lynch. I’m contributing to Coming & Crying.
Judy Blume: David Lynch? I’ve heard of him.
Meaghan: This is kind of what I was getting at with my question. About writing versus blogging.
Tess: It’s hard to accept the possibility of the decline of paperbacks, libraries, and dust jackets. It’s really hard. But at the same time, I think I’m in a better position because of blogging than I would be if it were just me with a scroll and a quill.
[William Shakespeare nods in appreciation.]
Tess: [cont’d] Being able to visualize your audience — and, often, you’re part of their audience, because you follow them on Tumblr or read them in The Awl or This Recording — makes you willing to open up to them in a way you can’t with print. There is, you know, a sense of community. It makes me optimistic about the validity of new media. That’s why your book is so exciting!
Judy Blume: Thank you.
Tess: I was talking to Meaghan.
Judy Blume: What book is this?
Meaghan: A non-fiction sex anthology. Actually, Judy, Tess and I both thought of you as a kind of milestone sex writer. You taught us a lot.
Judy Blume: Why, Meaghan — I’m touched.
Meaghan: Yeah, it was basically you and, you know, the instructions in our mom’s tampon boxes.
William Shakespeare: And also Othello.
Tess: That didn’t make the list.
William Shakespeare: This interview creeps at a petty pace.
Meaghan: Next one was…[shuffles notecards]…Judy, close your ears for a second.
Judy Blume: Why?
Meaghan: I feel like you’re going to be offended. Don’t be offended!
[Judy Blume earmuffs]
Meaghan: [cont’d] You used to mock the sex scenes in Forever, right?
Tess: Totally. The ski trip! But I feel like Forever was also the most honest account of sex, in a way. Judy, you can listen now. Like what’s that book’s equivalent now? I don’t think there is one. Twilight is the opposite. In sixth grade my friends and I would read parts of Forever aloud to make each other uncomfortable. But how explicit it was is so relatable.
William Shakespeare: Just like in Othello!
Tess: I think this book is brave. It’s easy to get around writing about sex, and maybe that’s what makes it awkward to read, sometimes. But it’s also the parts you skip to, dog-ear. They make you feel something. And it’s great to get the opportunity to get this volume as a real-life book, because sex is more sexy when it’s not on a computer screen.
Judy Blume: That was my thinking with Summer Sisters.