(Corrections: Diana was in a martini glass and yes I do know the difference between comments and show notes!)
This week I have a special guest – my daughter Codie and I are reminiscing about my friend essayist James Grattan whom we lost to suicide in 2016.
If you were a friend of James, and I didn’t get the Diana Ross story at the end correct, please let me know in the comments. And if you’ve got James story, share!
Buy Notes from an Aging Insomniac here.
Rather listen to the Podcast version of the show? You’ll find it here. Or on sites like itunes, spotify, and stitcher.
What do I write? Thanks for asking. Get the free prequel to my June Nash Misadventure series and find out why a monkey was wearing June’s bra.
Or dive right in and get the full length novel, How to Sex Your Snake
Need to interview someone and want some great questions? Check out John Fox’s 50 Brilliant Original Questions to Ask an Author.
I’ll see you next time! Go read a good book,
ps. Some of these are affiliate links to help support my never ending grocery habit
2 thoughts on “Books Cubed: Ep 15 Remembering Essayist James Grattan”
Hi 🙂 I was on that email list 🙂 I am James’ friend from Provincetown, I still miss him so much, hence my googling him today and coming up with this! I am crying as I listen to it but also laughing. We caught up after far too long the day before he died and I’m so glad that we did. The first time I saw him read onstage I told him I was going to heckle ( I assumed it was going to be a comedy story) him but of course instead he made me cry, which brought him great pleasure 🙂 He also dedicated another story to me at another reading. So many stories 🙂 we met when he worked at a gas station that I used to go to in a car that I had to exit through the window. He called me Daisy Duke every time I saw him and the rest was history:) hope you are well. Maria Marelli
I’m so glad you found the show. I love that you had to get out of your car through the window. I can see James watching and laughing, then teasing you about it. I miss him everyday. His writing was filled with such sadness, and joy, and sarcasm. I miss the books that he would have written. We had outlined the first book in a series we were going to write and one day, when I can look at the outline without tearing up, I’ll write those books. For now, I just miss him.