November 21, 2022

Dear Reader,

See how happy I am in the Book of the Month picture? Boy, do they throw a good party. And make the most drinkable mocktail I have ever sipped. Oat milk, honey, green tea, apples, mint. Those were the notes. And they were yum. Tasted pretty healthy too.

We have a lot of brand-new MPL family members from all over the world. I suspect my appearance on the This Jungian Life podcast and the much-appreciated Book of the Month selection have a lot to do with that. Welcome, everyone. If you'd please take a moment to add this email address to your contacts list, it would really help keep the MPL from ending up in spam or bouncing. Thanks so much.

On pub day, I had an early morning analytic session. I was emotional and a bit terrified as I officially embarked on my first book tour in more than five years. The sheer volume of hotels and airports and flights and car rides and time zone changes was enough to make this introvert's stomach ache. But there was another part of me—a very young part—that was afraid that I had dug deep into my soul, extroverted the very best of what I could find, and that maybe the world might cruelly shrug or completely ignore my efforts.

Like always, my analyst did his magic and reminded me of all the work we had done together in preparation for this moment. He has many times said that the face we turn toward the world (and unconscious) is usually the face that greets us back. And so I tried to wear a friendly, interested, and loving visage—a face that embodied what's at the core of We Are the Light.

As I entered each community, I also tried to bring something real to the table. I opened my heart. And reminded myself that there would be light and love in everyone I'd meet: the one person aggressively frowning at the center of an audience, a driver worked up about an alarming conspiracy theory, a checkout person singing quietly behind her mask, or a child opening and shutting the plane's window shade so that blinding sunlight repeatedly stabbed my eyes. I tried very hard to see the love and light in all of them.

And most of the time, when I smiled, the world smiled back. And when I was excited to meet the people at my events, they were excited. And when I thanked my hosts and interviewers, they also expressed gratitude. And when I risked vulnerability, extroverting personal material, readers in my signing lines gave me personal letters, their own artwork, snacks, photos of me from previous book tours, recipes, and even a gold sobriety coin. And when I tried to love the crowds, I felt the love coming back.

There were endless soul wins on the tour.

(Pictured left to right: my editor, Jofie Ferrari-Adler; my lit agent, Doug Stewart; yours truly; and my film agent, Rich Green.)

I felt remarkably less anxious this time around. Don't get me wrong. Catching all those flights and running from city to city took a toll on me. The first week, I didn't sleep more than four hours in any given twenty-four-hour period, as I just can't rest easy in hotels. My sleep schedule is still off. I did my best to avoid eating unhealthy food and therefore lost some weight, as healthy options weren't always available while on the run. I wasn't able to work out much and that was not optimal. But all the inner work I have been doing with my Jungian analyst is radically transforming my life, because get this: I actually had a lot of fun on the first leg of the book tour. And I've never ever had fun on a book tour before. My anxiety was always too high.

In the past, I would go to the airport with my hood up, sunglasses on, and earbuds in. A person seated near me on a plane once asked if I was intentionally trying to look like the Unabomber. True story. Because I was so crippled with anxiety, I would just try to block out as much as possible.

This time around I wore no sunglasses or hood, and found myself eager to trade a few kind words with my fellow passengers. In fact, I'd say I actually benefitted from such exchanges. We human beings are pack animals after all. I think I was just so wounded in the past that I mistook myself for a lone wolf and that cost me. I put out a leave-me-alone vibe and then wondered why the world felt indifferent or hostile.

Alicia says I am a changed man. In the past, at the end of a book tour leg, I would sort of stumble through the door and then need to be alone for hours—and even days—as I recovered from my stints out in the world. This time, I gave my wife a great big hug and a kiss, before I wrestled with our border terrier Kingsly for a good half hour, emerging from the battle with my black t-shirt covered in red fur. Then Alicia made a candlelit dinner and we reconnected in the soft glow of a wonderful homecoming. Alicia kept saying, "Who are you?" And I would laugh and smile and say, "It's the new and improved Matthew Quick. He's much more fun." I would have never dreamed this possible even a few years ago. Especially without alcohol.

At every stop on the tour, there was a lot of love. People were really warm and kind and seemed to be interested in the message I was delivering via WATL. Booksellers, librarians, writers, media people, and even one member of the film community—all who interviewed me were generous and insightful. Everyone had read and taken away something meaningful from the book. We talked about radical love. We talked about story and narrative as soul medicine. We talked about my sobriety. We talked about the need to celebrate positive masculinity as we continue to clean up toxic masculinity. And we talked about the importance of depolarized spaces in these divisive times.

One of my favorite parts of the tour was hearing people from both sides of the political spectrum saying the same exact positive things to me in the signing lines. Both sides were happy to be there. I believe there is a hunger for unity and people are growing tired of division. The WATL talks are for everyone. We Are the Light is for everyone, regardless of what a reader might or might not believe or who they voted for or where they live or anything else that divides us these days.

(That's my new manuscript sitting there on my NYC book-tour hotel-room chair. I cry whenever I read it. I think the writing of this one has been particularly therapeutic. More on that down the road.)

Because I am fully human, my dark side was also active on tour. Shadow was lurking, as it always does. Ego kept trying to count the number of people in my audiences. Ego wanted to know how many books were sold each night. Ego was worried about where WATL was displayed in the airport shops. Ego wanted there to be more glowing reviews. Ego wished we had gotten invited to appear on primetime TV. Ego was crushed when we didn't hit the NYTs list on week one, even though my agent says we were close.

But the rest of me was able to watch curiously and say, "Thank you, Ego, for trying to position us the best you can. But we are going to concentrate on collecting more soul wins throughout this process. We're going to connect with the people who have taken the time to be with us. And we are going to give them everything we have. We are going to be grateful for all of the readers who engage with WATL. We are going to bask in the miracle that is my team at Avid Reader Press and Sterling Lord Literalistic, because those people believe in the mission and are bringing their very best to the cause. And you know what, Ego? We're going to be okay. Better than okay. Because we are going to let the light and love in again."

My analyst tells me that if I let the Self align with my psyche—and if I can gather enough courage to allow whatever good wants to move through me and into the world—I will be allied in strange and beautiful ways. My analyst has allied me on a weekly basis for years. But others are now starting to show up in meaningful ways too. In analysis, I'm always saying that I need to knock the me out of me. Humble myself enough to serve the mission and allow the love to flow through. 

A lot of love has come my way during the first half of the book tour. I would have never dreamed it possible in my early sobriety. It took courage, faith, and moving through decades of pain to get to where I currently am, but I am seeing that my dark night of the soul was essential and there is more and more light ahead.

If you are in the struggling dark part now—or maybe you are secretly just starting to gather the necessary courage to make a hard change in your life—I want you to know that good things can happen when you do the necessary inner work and get very honest about who you are and where you need to go. In early sobriety, I never thought I'd be able to stand in front of a crowd again. I thought I was unlovable. I felt doomed. But I finally sunk low enough so that ego was utterly defeated. Only then was I humbled enough to reach out for help. I just kept showing up to analysis and putting one psychological foot in front of the other. My analyst is a wise, kind, and battle-tested human being. I'm very lucky and grateful. But I had to do the work too. It was painful. It still is difficult. It has taken me to some challenging places. And the work is—albeit slowly—setting me free.

If you purchased a copy of We Are the Light, if you came to one of my events, if you told someone about the MPL, if you posted pics of the WATL cover on social media, if you wrote all-the-stars-reviews online, or did anything at all to help during this launch, thanks for the love. I absolutely take it as love. And I offer my novels and the MPL back to you as a gift of love.

Matthew-Quick / WATL-related interviews, essays, and podcast appearances are being archived on my website: Interviews

There are still chances to hear me speak about WATL, both live and virtually—including at the beautiful historic Ambler Theater, which is depicted on the WATL cover: Events

Signed copies of We Are the Light make great holiday presents. Get yours via my local indie, Downtown Books: Signed WATL

Make sure you return next month for December's special Winter Solstice edition of the MPL, which will be about finding hidden strength within. I'm really looking forward to sharing it with you.

I'll end with a picture (below) of my brother, Micah; my nephew, Oliver; and me. Micah brought his son to my Downingtown event even though the undefeated-at-the-time Eagles were playing Thursday Night Football and the Phillies were playing in the World Series. Back in my drunken sports-obsessed days, I never would have dreamed that my bro would miss the big games to support his older brother's literary ambitions. His presence was a beautiful gesture that filled me with love and hope. Positive masculinity right there. And getting to hug my nephew before and after the talk was also wonderful.

Okay, friends.

Until the 21st of December 2022, please remember that wherever you are in the world, whatever your current battle may be, your man in Coastal NC is sending you good vibes. Always.

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MATTHEW

p.s.—If someone forwarded you this letter and you've enjoyed it, we can make it a regular thing. Subscribe and check out the archive here: Monthly Personal Letter.