A Memory.

So the World Cup is underway, and Providence is all in on the fandom scene, holding parties all over town. (Yes, the matches are being held in Boston, another state and a two-hour drive away. I’m just rolling with it.) While I normally enjoy living adjacent to three neighborhood bars, last night taught me that I should not expect to get any sleep this weekend.

(Seriously, y’all, when Scotland fans get piss-drunk, they apparently NEVER run out of songs to sing. At top volume, at two in the morning.)

So today the street outside my window is blocked off for a street party and open-air bar, with speakers blasting music. A little tricky considering I usually work in silence, and I don’t get weekends off, but I’m making it work. Deadlines have a great way of focusing the mind, and it helps that they’re playing a really decent mix of tunes. So I’ve been plugging away all morning, getting this new chapter done.

It’s almost universal that people remember the music of their childhood as the Best Music Ever. I grew up in the 1980s, so if you ever see one of my older characters waxing nostalgic about ‘80s pop, that’s probably a case of author-brain leakage slipping through. (Also, the reason Caitlin collects original Nagel paintings.)

So there I am, vaguely hearing the music and wrestling with a line that just isn’t landing the way I want it to, when I find myself tearing up. It’s not a sad scene, though. And then it clicks: the song playing outside my window is Mary’s Prayer by Danny Wilson.

That song was inescapable back in 1988 (for good reason, it’s a banger), but it still took me a second to understand why I was suddenly so overwhelmed. It wasn’t the song itself, or the lyrics, but the memory. I was fourteen, and my life sucked in ways I’m not going to get into here. And I clearly remembered the radio on in my room, that song playing as I looked at my bookshelf. My one hope, my only dream, was that one day everything would be better.

And one day, I would be a writer.

And here I am, sitting in my downtown studio. Catch and Kill has been out for almost a month and is one of my best-selling books ever. The sequel, The Glitter Machine, is out in November and right in this moment I’m working on book three, catching an echo of my past and wishing so hard I could go back and hug that kid and tell them they’re going to fucking make it.

Each and every one of you has my gratitude. Your readership made this dream come true. And while the future is never certain, and everything could fall apart tomorrow, right now I’m just here, making some art, trying to weave some damn good stories for you to enjoy.

That said, these soccer fans are gonna keep me up all weekend long.