Dear Reader,

I'm in the countdown to the launch of The Awful Truth, a dramatic yet amusing domestic suspense about three disgustingly rich couples who all get on a yacht expecting their wealth and privilege to accompany them when they get off. 

Honestly, this book was a pleasure to write in a way that my other books haven't been. And it's because lately (and I don't think I'm alone in this), I've been craving stories where rich people get what's coming. I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that you've also noticed how, as of late, the rich are getting a whole lot richer while turning a blind eye to the struggles of the regular folks. It's been a real affront to my desire to live in a just world. 

I suppose that need is one of the biggest reasons we turn to fiction: for a satisfying, just ending that we're not getting in real life. 

But, Mel, lots of rich people are really good humans who do so much for charity and actively work to make the world a better place. 

Okay, well MacKenzie Scott aside, there's an elite class building bunkers, buying up islands (or, ahem, visiting certain islands), and putting up data centers wherever they can. And again, I'm going to assume I'm not the only one who is thoroughly disgusted. 

Besides, we don't really want to see vulnerable people who have less than we do get hurt. There's nothing better than rooting for the underdog and enjoying their win. Unless it's rooting for the downfall of someone who has more than we do. And by more, I mean prettier, wealthier, smarter, and more successful.

So, yes, on this very base level (I'll allow that I can be petty and envious), it can be delicious to see someone who moves through the world with such entitlement and ease get their comeuppance. 

But if I dig a little deeper, it's about more than that. As my Grandpa Archie (who I never met because he was born in 1885 and I was born in 1974) used to say, "Anytime you have ten people in a room, one of them is going to be an asshole." Which is to say, poor people can be awful too. As can middle-class folks (like the type to wear in-your-face political sweatshirts about lake-renamings to Nova Scotia, where the world's most welcoming, kind people reside).  

So why is it EXTRA fun to watch rich people go through it? Oh, lots of reasons beyond them often being greedy and willfully ignorant (because we all can be those things too). 

It's also because when you take away the desperation that one lives with when poor, you take away a massive excuse for behaving badly. A starving child steals an apple at the market, and who could want to punish them? But a tech company steals (and torrents) millions of books from poor authors (including 26 of mine), and it's time to grab our pitchforks. 

But the reality is that rich people are still...just people. They eat, they shit, they sleep, just like the rest of us. Only they eat the best food, shit in really gorgeous, airy bathrooms that someone else cleans, and sleep in oceanview bedrooms. They get jealous and feel insecure and have their hopes dashed on occasion. They lie and hide that of which they are ashamed. They can feel lonely and bored (likely more bored than the rest of us who exist in survival mode). Their marriages fall apart at roughly the same rate as the very poor (who often divorce because nothing kills romance like crippling debt). 

It's also because deep down, most of us know we will never be rich. Not even close. Most of the population will struggle financially their entire lives. (And I say this with the acknowledgement that I was extremely fortunate to have been born in the country where I was and to have been given the opportunities I've had.) But the fact is, the life we were all sold on Freedom 55 commercials when I was growing up isn't for most people. It's for the few. The ones who inherited it (who, let's face it, are THE WORST) and the ones who made it on their own (with the help of luck or timing or lucky timing that they rarely acknowledge). So we envy their freedom to travel the world in style, their freedom from the stress of not having enough (and their freedom from having to clean their own shitty toilets).

Envy comes from the fear that you will never have what someone else does. Sometimes that fear is reality. I'll never be a 5' 10" model with thin thighs and willowy arms. I'll never be the number one tennis player in the world. I'll never have a book made into a Netflix series or a feature film that people can't get enough of. But sometimes the fear is just some awful shit we make up in our minds to stop ourselves from having too much hope (which can nearly kill a person when it gets crushed). (I feel the Netflix one in my soul because I was once offered the chance at that, only to have it disappear into the ether with no explanation.) But since it sucks to feel envious (and we're usually too ashamed to admit that's what we're feeling), we turn it into hatred or indignant rage. This too, is part of the human experience - replacing an awful feeling with an easier one.  We all do it. We just don't think about it. 

And for me, that's why I have taken great pleasure in putting all these powerful, privileged people on a yacht off the coast of Croatia, only to kill the air conditioning system and wreak havoc on them. (We writers must be a little evil if we're to do our jobs.) 

So, if you, like me, would enjoy such a story, then I invite you to check out The Awful Truth. It might be your cup of tea. 

Until next time,

mel

P.S. The most awful character in the book may or may not have the same name as a boy I grew up with who used to tell me I was fat. But I assure you, it's purely coincidental.