It wasn’t exactly a cathartic experience but it certainly was educational. I didn’t necessarily feel better or cured or ready to get off the couch, but I did gain a new understanding of myself, maybe even some acceptance. Unpacking all that luggage did make me feel raw for a long time but writing helped me fold and put away some of the ill-fitting clothes lingering in that suitcase.

2. Looking back as an adult now, do you find it ironic that you were once envious of your friend’s misfortunes, like an alcoholic father and dead babysitter?

Not so much ironic as mortifying. Growing up, I had this nagging desire to be somewhere other than my home. And it wasn’t really a grass-is-greener situation. In the way that some people feel they are simply in the wrong body, I felt that way about my family. There was technically nothing wrong with my house or family, but--like country music, or beets-- they just weren’t for me. I used these extreme situations to highlight my yearning to be elsewhere, with a variety of people whose experiences were different than mine. And if their situations were rife with turmoil and negativity, well, that was just a bonus.

3. Have you learned anything new about yourself after writing about your life up to this point?

I’m pretty self-aware, to a fault, because I live in my head so much. But something I learned, which came from the actual writing process, was that I actually could have discipline. I often say the only thing in my life I’ve ever finished was childbirth. I have pages of novels in drawers all over the house, half-started photo albums, all kinds of ideas of things I’m going to do, but I never finish. It was thrilling to complete something. Especially something so important to me.

4. As a writer, what do you think are the benefits of breaking I Don’t Have A Happy Place up into individual essays instead of traditional chapters?

When I set out to write this book, it was with the intention of mining my history to see if indeed I experienced happiness, or was capable of feeling content. I chose some quintessential milestones to explore and when those ran out, I delved into some more obscure ones. I’ve heard many people say that happiness, or life, is about moments. Turns out, unhappiness is also about moments. I wanted to focus on these pockets of time, and felt that stand alone stories could achieve that.

5. When you were reflecting on your past, were there any moments that surprised you or that you saw differently years later?

I knew I always wanted to tell the story of my grandmother’s funeral. The players involved were in fine form, and I like to find the humor in tense or upsetting situations. My goal for that story was always to focus on my grandfather and I was surprised by how much I learned about my role in the family, how my family handled grief and each other, and it unlocked some feelings about my mother, some insight into her personality that I hadn’t expected.

6. There are some particularly poignant moments in I Don’t Have a Happy Place (especially in the essay “Good Grief”), was it difficult to share such raw emotions from your life?

It wasn’t hard when I was alone at my desk. Now that all those words are actually in print and out in the world, I kind of want to take to the bed.