The other week, I attempted to attend the book launch of my new friend Jo Piazza, a best-selling author and travel writer, hosted by my dear friend Jenny Mollen (who, by the way, has an amazing Substack, The Best Friend Experience). Jo's new book, The Sicilian Inheritance, is about a feisty Philadelphia chef and mother facing the end of her marriage and the closure of her restaurant. I mean, give me a relatable heroine who's loving hard, eating well, and coming into her own, while solving a murder mystery set in Italy and I'm in! It's so good, I couldn’t put it down—even gave a copy to one of my best friends, who’s an avid reader. Just saying.
Anyhow, back to the night of her book signing. I attempted to take the subway to Brooklyn, in the hopes of actually getting there on time. This may not seem like a big deal, seeing as the subway is a core part of city life, but before the other week, I hadn't been on a subway in five years! When I first moved to NY 18 years ago, I regularly took the subway–but since COVID, I've remained firmly above ground. However, with traffic at an all-time high, friends convinced me to try underground transport again. So there I was, week one of my reentry into New York City public transportation. Feedback so far? I forgot how efficient it is. And, you get steps in, too.
That said, it's not a perfect system, and sometimes the subway is neither efficient nor a good idea. The night of Jo's book signing was one of those times. The event was in Brooklyn, and I live in Tribeca. In my head, I heard all my Brooklyn friends saying, "We're only two subway stops away from you." So, I figured, why not, and got back on the (iron) horse. Before continuing, I'll point out that my command of the subway is subpar, and so is my ability to tell time, which means I now believe everything is 5 minutes away by train (it's so fast!). Therefore, I may or may not have left my house with only 5 minutes to get to Brooklyn (because it's only 2 stops away).
So, there I am, in the rain on a train, headed to Books Are Magic, which, as I’ll find out shortly, has two locations—the one I went to and the one everyone else went to. I'd briefly looked up where I was going and the stop, but clearly I missed something because I was suddenly in a far-out neighborhood I knew to be much more than the fabled “2 stops away.” Annoyed, I had to get off and wait for the next train to return me from where I came. Then, get back on, then back off and walk the block and a half in the rain to what turned out to be THE WRONG LOCATION. Laughing at the of-course-this-happened-to-me situation, I texted Jenny and Jo with a picture of the shuttered bookshop captioned:
FML!! Of course, I went to the wrong location! Flame emoji, knife, heart, hug!
Determined to make it, I promptly called a car (which one might argue I should have done from the start) and drove the 5 minutes to the other location. Soaking wet and half an hour late, I walked into the bright, welcoming space filled with eager readers, supporters, and fans. Jo and Jenny were perched on stools at the front of the room when Jenny caught my eye, pointed at me in the back by the door, and announced to the room, “Colleen just got here! Guys, she’s an amazing writer and has a very cool Substack, too!” I beamed.
The crowd hung on Jo’s every word. I marveled at how much they adored her. Which made sense, seeing as Jo has let people in on her life for years, sharing her personal story from dating to marriage. She even wrote a book about marriage titled How To Be Married. Everyone’s rooting for Jo.
After she and Jenny's laugh-out-loud conversation ended and she signed a slew of books, we grabbed a couple of seats amongst the shelves to chat about The Sicilian Inheritance, that time she bought herself an engagement ring, the business of steamy sex, and why she only writes good guy characters.
I began, "I recently read your article, Why I Bought Myself An Engagement Ring. This got me thinking about jewelry and the power of it—especially a certain ring worn on a certain finger that's so charged for so many women. What having it—or more importantly not having it—means; what wanting it or worse, having to take it off when a marriage ends feels like. It's remarkable how bare a finger can feel without it." I said to Jo. She nodded knowingly.
“In your article, you tell the story of how you bought yourself an engagement ring, while on vacation in Africa. Finding yourself newly single at 34, you sent a photo of the ring with an announcement to your friends (somewhat jokingly) about the ring. While the message was met with judgment, the act seemed to release the charge around not being engaged and the desire for a ring. It was like a quiet manifestation because you met your now husband weeks later. Right?”
Jo smiled, “If I've learned anything in my life in middle age, it’s to let go and be confident in yourself and what you want. I wish I could have told my 20-something or my early 30-something self that, but she was very busy dating inappropriate men, and wouldn't have listened anyhow,” she joked. “But yes, that little act of rebellion gave me the freedom to have faith in my decisions and the confidence to know it will all work out. Like all things, when I got good and comfortable with that, the greatest guy, a good guy, showed up, because I was actually, finally ready and fully able to be myself in a way that I didn’t have the confidence to before.”
“Ah the ‘good guy.’ If I had a dollar for every time a friend or a young girl out in the dating world rolled their eyes when I urged them to seek out, find, wait for a good guy…like it somehow means boring. But that’s so not true. Passionate, exciting men can (and should) at the same time nice, kind and committed. They don’t have to be toxic or emotionally unavailable to be thrilling.”
“Totally,” Jo agreed. “The biggest trope in romance right now is this ‘enemies to lovers’ trope. It’s circulating TikTok, and I’m so saddened by it. Why are we teaching young, impressionable women that men who treat her like shit have the potential to be her soulmate? It's so gross and has to stop,” Jo insisted. “Sadly, the concept “if he teases you, then he likes you” begins in grade school. The idea that a guy being mean equals him liking you is insane. Or if he ignores you or doesn’t text you, it’s because he's too scared. It’s bullshit, is what it is. And it makes girls overlook the good guy for a very long time. I know it did for me. I really don't want my daughters to read those tropes and think that being treated poorly is love. It's unhealthy for anyone to read.”
She continued, “In my new book, The Sicilian Inheritance, Sara, our heroine is a chef and mother who goes in search of her family history after losing her marriage, her restaurant and her great aunt, Rosie, all at once. Rosie's last wish is for Sara to visit Sicily; she sends her and her daughter on an adventure with a fully paid trip and a deed to a potentially valuable piece of land. Hoping to turn a new leaf, heal and connect to her roots, Sara heads to Italy where she discovers a deep family secret and potential new love,” Jo summarized.
“The point I’m making, is when I was writing Sara’s love interest, I wanted to write the ‘good guy’ trope. None of this ‘enemies to lovers.’ No bullshit or games. No fantasy sex. No leaving her waiting by the phone,” Jo explained we have to teach our daughters not to tolerate that behavior. And we must train our sons to be forthcoming, show up, follow through, and be kind. Period. We can do that through the books they read and the content they consume.
“I couldn't agree more,” I said. “But speaking of sex, tell me everything…”
“Ha! Sex is big business right now. I mean, how do you make a book go viral? With a big, filthy sex scene," Jo laughed before continuing, "And while I love sex, I'm not in a ‘wild sex’ headspace these days—with three young kids. I don't have it in me! I love vanilla sex with my husband. Therefore, to write these scenes, I polled my best girlfriends who read super smutty books. To my surprise, it was not over-the-top. They wanted grownup sex. They wanted fun but also relatable. They wanted their actual bodies represented. They wanted it to be realistic-ish. They also said they wanted it to be efficient because who really wants to have hours and hours of foreplay anymore? Especially after a decade together.” (Note: agree to disagree;).
“Nearly 10 years married! Looking back, do you think the advice from your first book still stands?”
“It’s wild to think that I've been married for almost a decade. In some ways, it feels like for-fucking-ever. And other ways, it feels as though we just met, like, 'Who are you? Strange man.’ Then I look down and realize we have 3 children and I jump with alarm, ‘How did they get here??!' "
"That said, the greatest part about my book on marriage is that it's not my advice. It's the advice of long-term married people from all over the world. There’s a lot we can learn about marriage through stories of successful partners who have weathered adversity together and are stronger for it. I have found that it's easy to get lost in the daily minutia of marriage, and having a book, filled with tips, to refer to is helpful. Recently, my husband and I have been rereading a chapter per month."
“When you met your husband, was it love at first sight? Did you know he was the one?” I cooed.
“No! We met on a 10-day boat trip in the Galapagos Islands. I remember seeing him and thinking he felt familiar, but it wasn't like a thunderbolt of lightning. It was more like, ‘Hi, friend, you weird hippie guy from California' We made out on the boat, and then went on our first proper date in Guayaquil in Ecuador. After that, he said he wanted to see me again. And I was like, 'ok, that's weird, but okay.' After our second date, we went camping in Joshua Tree. Three months later we were engaged. He gave me a new ring, that I love. That was 8 years ago. And it all happened within eight months of me buying that ring for myself in Africa,” Jo’s voice trailed off airily.
“Do you still wear the engagement ring that you bought yourself?” I inquired, hopefully.
“I did for a long time (it represented my journey) and I still would if it fit but, my fingers are swollen from having all these babies! I've been waiting to have it resized by the jeweler. I do love that ring,” she said dreamily.
Caught up in Jo’s magic, I floated out of the bookshop, feeling great. Jo and Jenny had made out, and the hilariousness of getting there felt like a lifetime ago as Jo’s words swirled around in my head. I was even going to attempt to take the subway home when Jenny called from her car, “Get in, babe! We’re going back to Manhattan!”
And while I love all the metaphors and symbolism that could’ve been found in my eagerness to jump back on that (iron) horse—my life on the right track, enjoying the ride, etcetera—I was quick to abandon my short-lived love affair with one of the city’s most New Yorkiest elements and hopped in her Uber without a second thought. Up and over the bridge, we laughed the whole way home (Jenny lectured me on the need for paid subscribers—so listen to her and become a paid subscribe! ;). Before I knew it, I was home. Deposited directly onto my doorstep. Next time a friend insists that the subway’s faster, I may have to remind her that faster isn't always better.
Though Jo would likely disagree.