Listen to me talking about how I came to
write The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things
The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things is very close to my
heart. I know that every book an author writes is probably very close
to her/his heart, but this one is especially so. I wrote The Earth,
My Butt, and Other Big Round Things at a time in my life when I was
thinking hard about so much things – how much we compare ourselves to
our families (and so often feel like we don't measure up), how much
potential we could have (if we didn't judge ourselves so harshly), how
we react to negative experiences (becoming a victim or choosing to be
empowered), and how sometimes we just feel so alone in the world (but
maybe we're not, after all?).
I wrote a bulk of this story during the summer I turned twenty-eight.
For three weeks that August, I drove up to my mom's lake house in
Central New York and "went underground" (that's what I call it when I
don't email, don't hang out with friends, just write, write, write).
For those three weeks, I wrote from the early morning until late at
night. I took long walks along this stony path next to the lake and
thought about my characters. I literally lived in Virginia's head.
One day, when I was writing a particularly intense scene (pages
72-77), every muscle in my body was on edge. Once I was done, I
actually got a migraine headache. That's how much I was identifying
with Virginia.
It's been very exciting that The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round
Things has been so well received. It won the American Library
Association Printz Honor. It's been optioned for film rights. And,
most importantly, I get so many messages from readers telling me that
The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things helped them feel better
about themselves as they are, made them stop hurting their bodies,
guided them through a difficult time in their lives, and made them
feel less alone. And do you know what, readers? Your letters make me
feel like we're all connected in a special and intimate way. They
make me feel less alone, too.