It was a good week for the book. Well, really only one thing happened. It got reviewed in the New York Times, which I assume is a good thing. And I had a foreign rights sale. It’s a weird one, you will never guess what country was the first to want Enter Title Here in translation.

Personally, I never expected to sell the book in any other language. Even people in America only sort of want to read about Indian people. I’m pretty sure people in Brazil, when they imagine reading an American novel, don’t imagine reading one that’s about an Indian person. (The country that wants to translate the book is not Brazil. It’s a much weirder example.)

I’m working on stuff. Writing and such. I’ve been experiencing very little desire lately to read books. This is the second time this year that this has happened. I don’t know, maybe it’s just a cyclical thing for me. I’m currently listening to the audiobook of Megan Abbott’s You Will Know Me, which is a crime novel about a teen gymnast, and I’m finding it slow going. The book isn’t bad; it’s just not what I want right now. Abbot is amazing, unparalleled at describing the physicality of girlhood: what it means, in concrete terms, to inhabit a changing female body. And that’s great.

But…her books, at least the later ones, are also a little humorless. Everything is so grave. At least Dare Me, her cheerleader book, had a sort of joy and excitement, even if they were all tinged dark. Those girls reveled in what they were able to do. In this one, the predominant emotion is anxiety. There is so much fear of failure. Of sabotaging their daughter’s chances. Of being shown to be a poor parent.

And for me, right now, in my current state of mind, the book simply doesn’t have enough light.