Thoughtzzarella Sticks, 2024
A love letter to you and my debut year.
I honestly had no idea what to expect from this year. My debut novel, Amerikaland, came out in June, and in many ways, the months since have been a life-changing experience. My publisher, LEFTOVER Books (a small press based in Rochester, NY), led by the wonderful Patrick Trotti, took on my ambitious debut and gave it life. We’ve been on this journey together, and though there have been challenges large and small, we’ve stayed the course and, I think, brought something unique and necessary into the world.
This has not been a money-making endeavor for me (or my publisher)—I wish it was; I wished and still wish those big wishes of success for this book—but, I can’t say it hasn’t been a success. Amerikaland has won multiple awards, received rave reviews from places like Kirkus, Foreword, and Independent Book Review, reached readers in a way I never imagined possible, and my mom gave it five stars on Goodreads…not sure I can ask for anything more!
In addition to launching my debut novel this year, I also published what is certainly my most personal piece of writing to date. I am endlessly grateful to
for giving my essay such a perfect home, and for all of you who read and shared the piece—you can never know how much it means to me.They don’t tell you a lot of things about your debut year. They don’t tell you no one will care about your book, about its existence in the world. They don’t tell you people will care, will show immense and incredible support, will lift you up and, at times, make you feel like a goddamn rock star. They don’t tell you there will be days you feel alone and isolated, and others when you feel so embraced by the community of readers and writers around you that you can barely hold back tears. They don’t tell you that you won’t end up on any year-end lists but will feel celebrated, nonetheless. They don’t tell you none of that will matter when, every so often, you look up from your desk and see your own debut novel on the bookshelf. It still shocks me sometimes.
There is no blueprint for your debut year, and, for me, it has become about accepting the good. Allowing myself to enjoy. It’s a strange sensation, and I’m still very much getting used to it. (Thank god for therapy.)
It takes a village, they say, and sweet lord does it ever. Bookstores, libraries, festivals, readers, podcasts, events, friends, and family—I have never felt so much love and support. Please bear with me, because I want to thank as many of these people and places as possible:
Stanza Books; Split Rock Books; The Hound Books; Big Red Books; Bookeater; The Golden Notebook; Golden Hour Books; Lofty Pigeon Books; Taylor & Co. Books; The Common Good; The Village Bookstore; Oblong Books; Boulder Bookstore; Northshire Bookstore; Howland Public Library; Pittsford Community Library; 2024 Debuts; Hudson Valley Writers Center; Beaconites; Writing Stories; Debutiful (and Adam Vitcavage); K.E. Semmel (and The Millions); ; Reading Den; Ditmas Lit; University of New Orleans’ Gold Room Reading Series; (Miss Manhattan Reading Series); Jewish Book Council and the Jewish Writers’ Conference; New York Jewish Book Festival; Brooklyn Book Festival; all the amazing writers who blurbed Amerikaland; and, every person who read, shared, talked about, gifted, and posted on social media about Amerikaland.
To all of you, I say thank you, and I love you, and I will always treasure how absolutely wonderful you’ve been to me this debut year.
And, as I included in my book’s acknowledgements, Amerikaland and this year are dedicated to my wife, Laura Brown, and our editorial cats; to anyone who provided me with coffee (bless you!); to baseball and tennis, to women’s sports, to the athletes making this world a better place; and to all those standing up to hate, to fighting for good.
Here’s to my debut year, to all the people that made it possible, and to 2025, to continuing to fight for good, and to neverendingly putting pen to paper. And, as always, to mozzarella sticks.
I was so lucky to be an early reader for this one!
And yes, before publishing my first book, I hadn’t realized that the first year is when all the PR has to happen. It seemed so strange to me, since readers read slowly, recommend slowly, come to books after a year or so of getting through their to-read pile. I’d never paid attention to whether a book was published this year or 5 years ago, it all felt “new” to me. Not so from the PR side.