Is it really January 29th, 2016? Is there actually a book out in the world with my name on it that people can buy and hold in their hands? I’m sitting here stuck in between a couple of places. Like whatever you call the place between massive anxiety and obscene amounts of joy, I’m right there. So, hi!Juliet Takes a Breath is now available in print on Amazon!! Don’t mind me, just running around wiggling with excitement.
I’m going to write a more in-depth post for Autostraddle about ways to get the book into your local bookstore/library. But for now, here is the ISBN # in case you’re already in that bookstore and you wanna get them to carry the book:
- Electronic: 978-1-62601-250-9 Print: 978-1-62601-251-6
I’m also writing a piece about how Juliet Takes a Breath came to be and all the shit I went through to finish writing it and make it to the published stage. For now tho, here are some amazing thoughts + love from readers and friends on Instagram.
Still not sold? That’s cool. I’m with that. Here’s an excerpt:
Know your period as you know yourself. Touch the wobbling blobs of blood and tissue that escape and land intact on your favorite period panties. Note the shades of brown and purple and volcanic reds that gush, spill, and squirt out announcing themselves. Slide fingers deep inside your cunt and learn what your period feels like before it’s out of your body. Masturbate to ease cramps and meditate to soothe the spirit. Connect to your blood cycle. Build sacred rituals around your period.
* * *
Oh fuck, I wet the bed. Springing up, blanket and all, I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my bottom. The blanket fell to the side and there it was: a bright, candy apple red, first day period stain. You’ve got to be kidding me. I was an entire week early. I heard movement downstairs and panicked. I felt nauseous, my underwear was blood-soaked and the stain on the bed made my stomach drop. You just didn’t bleed on someone else’s mattress. Gross. God, I didn’t think Harlowe would beat me with a chancla, but I couldn’t imagine her being excited about it. Or maybe she would be? All of me was mortified.
The bathroom was downstairs. So were my soaps and access to water or bleach. Fuck. Blood dripped down my thigh. I had to clean or hide or something. I dug into my book bag and found a three-day old bottle of water and my deodorant. Panicked, I figured they’d help clean it up somehow. I poured what was left in the bottle onto my blood spot and scrubbed it with the deodorant. Cramps flowed down my lower back and along my ovaries. Fists clenched, scrubbing back and forth over the stain, I must have looked deranged. I refused to stop scrubbing even when I heard footsteps coming up to the attic. Maybe I could get it out …
“What the hell? Are you okay?” asked Harlowe.
“Just um, you know, cleaning the mattress.” I hid the deodorant behind my back, knees tightly pressed together. I was a sticky, aching mess, and I hoped Harlowe would just drift away and give me time to collect my dignity.
Instead, Harlowe hunched forward on bent knees. “Did you bleed on it?”
“Yes, and I’m totally sorry, and if you’ve got some bleach…” I looked at her and quickly looked away. I wanted the floor to devour me and save me from the volcanic levels of shame pulsing through my body.
“That’s incredible.” Harlowe grabbed my shoulders and hugged me. “Don’t you see that it’s a blessing?”
The mangled and bloodstained deodorant stick fell out of my hands.
Harlowe looked at it and laughed. “Not sure if deodorant was the right way to go. What we need is some salt and water for this ceremony.”
“Ceremony?” I asked. “Are you going to make me drink something weird or like gargle with my period blood? ‘Cuz I don’t think I can handle that right now.”
“No, I’m not going to make you gargle with your period blood,” Harlowe assured me. She walked to the other side of the attic and found me a clean towel. “But what an idea that is. I’ll have to look into it. No, the salt and the water are to clean up the stain on the mattress. And as for ceremony, I mean periods should always be celebrated.”
So, please go and buy a copy of Juliet Takes a Breath.
And maybe buy one for someone else, and if you love it, tell me! Write a review or email me or whatever. And if you can’t afford it, contact me here and we can work something out. An amazing Autostraddler kicked me a small fund just for that. Oh, and if you’d like to donate to that fund, please hit me up too!