When Hannah’s editor died, all of his projects—including Hannah’s e-book—died with him. Now she’s forced to find a new home for her memoir, otherwise no one will get the chance to read “everything that’s ever happened” to the 25-year-old.
Luckily for her, Hannah was able to find another publisher pretty quickly who was impressed with her “Mindy Kaling meets something else” style. She was offered a book deal—not just for a measly e-book but for an actual “book that you can hold.”
The only snag, though, is that her contract with her previous publisher means that the rights for the work she’d written for them will not be released for another three years. So after all of that work, pouring all of her life’s events into her e-book, she’s back to square one. Well, actually, it’s more like square negative one. Not only does she not have a book deal, but she also has no useable material, and she’s out of life experiences to write about.
And it’s kind of a shame, since the “life experiences” in her memoir sound so stupid that they could be genuinely entertaining. (“The hand job kidney stone, the time I fell asleep on a pile of pizza boxes, when I made out with the Cuban refugee then the thing happened with the glitter pens…”)
“What am I gonna do?” Hannah screams, “Live another 25 years just to create another body of work that matches the one that they stole from me? What if nothing happens in the next 25 years?” She describes the ordeal as “the worst thing that has ever happened” to her.
Adam’s sister (Gaby Hoffman) plays the Greek chorus when she says:
You will never write a thing that matters because you will never understand the true struggles of humanity because you just slipped right out of your mother’s pussy like a nice little golden egg, you spoiled little fucking prick.