Dear Readers

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted (note: three years is more than awhile, but please play along). However, I’ve done some spring cleaning around here—tidying up my mental cupboard, if you will, of thoughts.

I’ve spent more than a decade dreaming of being an author, and never in my wildest did I imagine that a second book would make its way into the world. The Rebel’s Guide to Pride is now available from Delacorte Press / Random House Children’s Books. If my debut—The Last Boyfriends Rules for Revenge—was the book of my heart, then my second is the book of my soul. So, reader, please accept my party invitation and step into the “Roaring 2020s” of The Rebel’s Guide to Pride with a mayor who prohibits Pride and the rebels who resist by hosting Pride speakeasies. Rebelling has never been so fun or as sparkly as a disco ball.

Check out this beautiful cover designed by Casey Moses and art by Jess Vosseteig:

This story began taking shape after reading news of proposed bans on Pride celebrations before bed. My dreams connected our present—infected with hate and vitriol woven into the fabric of politics—to the past with the Roaring Twenties and what it means to live in a time of prohibition and Zelda Fitzgerald, the rebel from Alabama who became the first American flapper during the 1920s. When I sat down to write, those elements made me consider what Pride means to me, what it would mean if banned. Like Zeke, the main character, Pride once felt like a war between who I should be and who I am. His questioning of whether or not he’s a “good gay” is something that I’ve done my whole life. At first, I was terrified to write that into his character, shame and worry whether or not he’s doing enough for both himself and his community. I realized as soon as Zeke climbs that billboard on page one, facing his fears, that I had to do the same.

Early in the story, Zeke has a shoebox full of everything he’s been made to feel ashamed of, including a Pride flag. Having him go through the things he hid felt like reclaiming parts of myself that I’d also been forced to hide. It was empowering to have him refuse to feel shame for who he is. Bringing him to life reinforced what Pride means to me now: speaking up and demanding to exist. However, disgraced and unqualified politicians have screamed at us for far too long, told us who we are and who we are not worthy of being. They want us to cower and live in the darkness of shoeboxes and “underground speakeasies” and closets until we forget ourselves—and we won’t let them anymore.

There’s a reason why the first Pride was a riot, a rebellion, an uprising.

To witness political attacks against the LGBTQIA+ community in real time as I wrote this story both hurt my heart and lit a fire in my veins. That rage burned inside me as my characters dismantled small minds and demanded change. However, as I neared the end, my anger turned into blazing resistance right along with Zeke, Sawyer, Cohen, and Kennedy. And I hope this rebel guide with its glittering speakeasies and fun will inspire you to find your voice, your joy, your unbreakable soul…and fight back too.

After all, they made us rebels.

Until next time,

M

P.S. I’ll try to be better with updating this.