Anything I type as a title here feels gross

My general goal is to stay out of whatever literary gossip cycle is happening online because it’s undignified. But this latest one feels different, in that Blake is somebody whom I care about deeply, and because these are literal matters of life and death.

(and also I can’t sleep because I’m on steroids due to an allergic reaction lol)

I have actually read Molly and found it to be an excellent book in every way. The sentences and structure are tight and well-crafted. It’s smart as hell. Only Blake could have written it; it feels like him and nobody but him, in the best way. It is full of heart and sincerity and honesty.

But my favorite thing about it, the thing that makes it truly stand out, is how thorough it is in that honesty. Blake looks at Molly, himself, and their relationship straight on, no flinching, for better and for worse, the way that true, actual love is supposed to do.

It’s a loving book, and in it Molly does things that are baffling, dysfunctional, and unkind… But I saw so much of myself in Molly, my own weaknesses and my own strengths. I saw this because Blake let Molly be real. He let her be a flesh human, living forever in his book. This book is a piece of art in which Blake examines himself and what he went through, and it is also a final gift to her.

(Blake also depicts himself as doing things that are baffling, dysfunctional, and unkind— he is unsparing to himself.)

And, yeah, the details in it are salacious if they’re stripped away from all subtext and nuance. But isn’t that the case with just about anything that’s both factual and interesting? And also:

Imagine your spouse dies, in just about the most tragic way possible, during a period in your life when it just about couldn’t be any worse in terms of timing.

Now imagine that immediately after, you found out that the life you had constructed with your spouse was an illusion— a sort of magic trick.

Now imagine that you missing that this was an illusion is not because you are stupid or oblivious but because the person who had crafted the illusion had gone to great lengths to make it seem real.

Now imagine that you, the person who this happened to, are intelligent and kind enough —and that while there was so much about herself that your spouse kept secret, you still knew her well enough — to understand the truth behind her ruse: she did this because of the fissures in our social fabric and because she hated herself, and couldn’t fully see how exceptional she was or how much people cared. It had nothing to do with you.

That’s what Molly is about— Blake’s experience with Molly, and him trying to grapple with all of it. It’s not Molly’s story. The book is transparent about this.

And it is reflective of what I know of Blake the person— somebody who is generous of spirit, who is appreciative of nuance, who is quick to admit when he’s wrong, who has honesty and integrity, who is, somehow after all of this, loving and open and kind.

And it is reflective of what I’ve seen Blake go through. He has taken the route of healing, with the willingness to know that healing after grief and trauma means confronting the most terrifying things about yourself and your past head-on. The bravery I’ve seen in him. I honestly cannot believe he has survived all he has endured, and that he has survived this with the best parts of himself intact.

And after reading Molly, I worried that people would come after him, because of the dynamics— straight white dude —but I didn’t think it would come so swiftly and vocally from a friend.

I’ve known Sarah Rose Etter since like 2011. She’s immensely talented and her chapbook Tongue Party is genius. In the first five or so years of knowing her, she came across to me as a real, genuine person. But over the years, I lost respect and affinity little by little. I still assume there’s some of that young woman left in her— the one who is honest and truthful and unapologetically herself, but it seems like she has been corrupted by Twitter brain, insecurity, and brazen attempts at social climbing. And for this I am sorry. These come from unhappy, lonely, spiritually empty places and that makes my heart hurt for Sarah.

To an extent.

I also feel nastiness can be cultivated and this seems like cultivated nastiness. (I have no idea what she’s going through; she might be having a rough go at life right now; her attack on Blake might have nothing to do with him.) I don’t have empathy for cultivated nastiness.

I remember when Molly died, and I talked to Sarah, and she said something that seemed off to me, a little too vocal about Being a Good Friend to Blake. But mostly I was glad Blake had people to take care of him.

It is completely mind-boggling to me that a person would have an issue with a supposed friend’s book, and would not bother to read it, but moreover, would not bother to reach out to that friend to discuss it with them, friend to friend, human to human. That her first instinct would be to attack him publicly! It’s so ugly! It’s so sick!

And I don’t know how long SRE’s resentment about Molly has been brewing but it can’t be coincidental that she expressed it so close to the tabloid pieces’ publication (which are disgusting and have almost nothing to do with the book).

Have we forgotten what tabloids are and what they do? Apparently so.

And I fucking hate tabloid culture. Tabloid brain paved the way for Twitter brain and Twitter brain paved the way for this era of sickness.

We don’t need to have an opinion on everything! If you’re going to be mean to someone online, at least know what the fuck you’re talking about!

ANYWAY Molly is amazing and I will go on the mat and fight anyone who goes after it or Blake.