Big news: my new book Ginger Snapped is officially out in the world! You can get it now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble/Nook* and finally Apple – I’m still working out some kinks. Ginger Snapped is a short, funny, easy-to-pick-up collection of stories and rants about the everyday absurdities that test our patience and make us laugh at the same time.

People like to imagine writers have these romantic stories about how their books come into the world. You know, a bolt of inspiration on a foggy morning, a steaming mug of coffee, and hours of uninterrupted time to spin brilliance onto the page. That’s not how Ginger Snapped happened, most of it was conceived in the shower or while contemplating life while drying my hair – which takes forever.

The real story starts more than a decade ago with a different book: Minnesota Nice. That manuscript was about the absurdities of my childhood—growing up with a gay dad in a time when that wasn’t spoken about, and a mom who needed so much care that our roles were often reversed. It was a book I wrote with a chip on my shoulder. It was sharp, funny, and angry in places. And while it helped me work through a lot, it wasn’t the story I wanted to publish. So I put it in a drawer.

But here’s the thing—my parents always knew I was going to tell our story. My mom begged me to tell it from a young age, because so much of it was hers. My dad, on the other hand, asked me to wait until he passed. I get it. Their lives were complicated and the story is deeply personal. Telling our family story has always felt like both a responsibility and a privilege, and I’ve carried that with me all these years.

Then life happened. Twelve years passed. My mother died. And somewhere along the way, I mellowed. The edges softened. I realized my parents, in their own complicated ways, had given me the best gift: a magical childhood and a sense of humor strong enough to carry me through just about anything. It took me time to see the magic clearly—but once I did, the book I’d written back then no longer felt like the book I wanted to share.

Out of that reflection came Ginger Snapped. On the surface, it’s a collection of funny, exasperated takes on modern life—the pajama pants at the mall, the endless “breaking news” cycle, and the countless little ways society seems to have misplaced its manners, I could have titled it Get Off of My Lawn. But running underneath it is a broader theme: what happens when patience runs out, and how humor is often the only sane response.

The perspective behind Ginger Snapped was shaped by the bigger forces in my life—menopause, parenting, caregiving—but the book itself isn’t about those things. They simply gave me the lens through which I see the world, a lens that turns everyday absurdities into comedy gold (or at least into good rants).

And here’s the best part: it’s an easy read. The chapters stand alone—each one its own little story, rant, or reflection. That makes it the perfect bathroom reader (and I promise, that’s not an insult—it’s high praise in my book). Or toss it in your bag and pull it out while standing in line. You’ll get a laugh, a knowing nod, and maybe even look less annoyed while waiting for the person ahead of you who’s arguing with the cashier over expired coupons.

“Read your book, it was good.” – Review of Ginger Snapped from Ex#1

And it was also my trial balloon. I used Ginger Snapped to teach myself the ins and outs of self-publishing: formatting, cover design, ISBNs, trim sizes, royalties—the whole messy business of getting a book into the world. It gave me the confidence to know I could do this.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified about sharing this book. We live in a time when simple disagreement can mean cutting ties. Families, friendships, whole communities splinter over the smallest things. Do you know what that does to creativity? It strangles it. It makes you second-guess every word, every joke, every observation. It almost kept me from publishing at all.

And yet, that’s exactly why I knew I had to do it. Fear can’t be the editor of our lives. If we let the threat of judgment or rejection silence us, we don’t just lose our voice—we lose connection. We lose laughter. We lose the chance to say, “Me too” when someone else thinks they’re alone in noticing how ridiculous the world has become.

So yes, publishing Ginger Snapped scared me. But pressing “publish” anyway felt like reclaiming something that fear wanted to take. Humor, honesty, connection—they matter more than playing it safe.

So that’s how Ginger Snapped came to be: born out of an unpublished book, reshaped by time and perspective, and sent out into the world as both a laugh and an experiment. Now, as I return to Minnesota Nice, I see it with fresh eyes—not as a place to vent, but as a chance to honor the messy, magical childhood my parents gave me.

And here’s the exciting part: out of Minnesota Nice will come several other books—Bad Dates: A Cautionary Tale, Fat, Confessions of a Mall Walker, and a yet-to-be-titled book about the gift of grandparents. Each one will tackle a different slice of life with the same blend of humor, honesty, and reflection that started with Ginger Snapped.

But today’s milestone is worth celebrating: Ginger Snapped is finally here! Grab your copy, toss it in your bag (or your bathroom), and dive in whenever life hands you a few spare minutes.

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