Plus, read an excerpt from Really Good, Actually.
Monica Heisey is ready to publish the anti-romantic comedy.
ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY:After all your success in television, why did you decide to write a novel?
‘Schitt’s Creek’ alum Monica Heisey on her debut novel ‘Really Good, Actually’ and how heartbreak can be hilarious.Harry Livingstone; HarperCollins
How was the writing process different?
My favorite thing about writing for television is how collaborative it is.
It makes creating something a pleasure.
With the novel it was just me, alone, at my desk in the pandemic.
I’m going to be honest: It was less fun.
Certainly, it was much less fun at the beginning.
What was the genesis of the novel?
So I invented Maggie and Jon, and tore up their life plans instead.
How would you describe the book?
There’s also quite a lot in there about how difficult it is to buy trousers.
Give your best Hollywood pitchfor the book.
Well-meaning woman freaks out in an extended way.
I wondered if she was nervous about my ability to make rent.
Now,herincome was threatened by the presence of the weak link in one of her mid-tier one bedrooms.
Sometimes I went practical, sometimes whimsical, sometimes extravagant.
For instance: I bought a SAD lamp.
I bought a posture correcting harness.
I bought a $113 candle, later returned.
I bought new, humongous underwear.
I bought a robe.
I bought a big, aggressive vibrator, then a less ambitious one.
I bought a $90 vial of acid to put on my face.
I bought a sleep app and another meditation app.
I bought a yoga mat, dumbbells, resistance bands.
I bought an experimental nail polish.
I bought Korean pimple patches in the shape of hearts.
I bought a hair mask and a face mask and a hand mask.
I bought little plastic bags to put on my feet and waited until the skin sloughed off.
I lied and said yes, he looked very meaningful.
She said that was because he would be there when I died.
I bought a beautiful, sculptural coffee maker that took forever to complete its one job.
I preferred the coffee from the cafe.
I bought a lavender “sleep spray” for my pillows and my pulse points.
I bought a mineral sunscreen that didn’t work.
I bought some loose pants I saw on Instagram.
I bought the shirt to go with them.
I bought extra storage in the Cloud.
I bought a sleep tea and a laxative tea and a hormone-balancing tea.
Everywhere was too expensive and unpleasant to look at or think about.
I made a few calls, responded to a few Craigslist ads and Facebook posts.
Ever ready for a project, Lauren forwarded me links with thoughtful notations (“near me!”
“has cat!”
“owner sounds hot???")
but I was uncompelled.
What mattered to me?
Was I messy, or had I just been messier than Jon, who was very tidy?
Did I like to go out, or prefer to stay in?
Would I call myself a “morning person”?
Jon liked to sleep late, while I woke up every day at 8:15 no matter what I did.
Thinking outside of a comparative context was a challenge.
I tried my best:I am an average-height, red-headed academic with anemia.
I’m halfway to being a vegetarian, on weekends.
I’m left-handed and shortsighted.
I have no opinion on “the outdoors.”
I go to one festival a year despite not liking live music.
I’m not sure I’m bisexual enough to “count.”
I’m an ENFJ, or an INFJ, or an ENFP .
I have taken the test many times.
I read a lot of books and own an amount of tote bags that makes that clear.
I’m the baby of my family (not by birth order, but you know).
I wish I didn’t think that.
I’m working on not thinking that.
I have bad posture and good blood pressure.
I didn’t get a lot of responses and didn’t launch the ones I did.
I went to exactly one viewing, cold, for a house three doors down from me.
When I got there, I realized the older man expected us to share a bathroom.
Maybe I could get another job.
Maybe my parents would help me out.
Mostly, I could not imagine leaving, not yet.
Two of these were now bare, sticking out by a window like metal indictments.
I had made a promise to this place.
Maybe I couldn’t keep all my promises, but I would venture to keep this one.
I logged back into my bank account and gave my landlord seventy of my remaining dollars.
It’s always darkest before the dawn.
Excerpted fromReally Good, Actuallyby Monica Heisey.
Copyright 2023 by Monica Heisey.
Reprinted courtesy of William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins Publishers.
