The Uses of Jealousy

Some thoughts on a book I thought I wanted to write

Photo by Matteo Vistocco on Unsplash

In 2021, I was at a business mastermind where participants were invited to present business challenges to the gathered brain trust. Each of us had three chances to be in the hot seat. I had worked for weeks to make sure that I used my time effectively — you did not want to squander the collective wisdom of this group of people — and had a plan to use two of my three slots for the same thorny problem. But that problem turned out not to be thorny at all and so I had nothing planned for my last slot.

I jotted down a few ideas the evening before, but when my time came, I blurted out a question I hadn’t even realized I had: what should I do about the migraine book I had been trying to write for more than 25 years?

This book was constantly on my mind.

At one point, it was going to be a book of journal prompts to help people sort out their triggers; at another point, it was going to be a book about creative people with migraines, especially Joan Didion, whose essay — “To Bed” from The White Album — shifted my thinking about the affliction in a deeply profound way; after my mother died, I didn’t have a migraine for six weeks (which shattered the record since I first starting getting them at age 28, when I was pregnant with my first child) and I had the thrilling thought that I would write a book about how my migraines vanished along with my mother’s presence here on earth; from time to time, I considered a hybrid memoir with reported elements about the outrageous way women’s health concerns were treated and dismissed; I sometimes toyed with writing a memoir/biography mashup of the miraculous medicine that finally, finally eased the grip migraines had on me.

There were so many different ways to approach this topic that had been at the center of my life for so long, and so many different possibilities. I could never choose and commit to any one idea, but instead used the various ways I had considered approaching the book as a case study in my book coach certification course on memoir.

That day in the mastermind the migraine book came out of my mouth as a problem. Not writing the migraine book was really starting to gnaw on me.

The brain trust listened to my litany of ideas, asked me some pointed questions, and presented me with a solution: make a decision not to write the migraine book until my 60th birthday, which was two and a half years in the future. Take it off all to-do lists, they said, strike it from all project lists, and bury the folder where I couldn’t see it. Pretend as though it wasn’t happening and on my 60th birthday, sit down and make the decision about whether or not I still cared.

The thing about feedback is that it is only useful if it resonates with something you already know or believe. I felt such an enormous relief at this suggestion that I embraced it wholeheartedly.

And to be honest, I kind of forgot about the migraine book. As the clock ticked towards my birthday deadline, I was not thinking about it at all.

But two days before my 60th birthday, I saw a deal notice in Publisher’s Weekly. A book entitled Funeral in My Brain by Lisa Levy, sold in a pre-empt to St. Martin’s, my old publisher.

The reactions flared across my brain:

• Funeral In My Brain. What a freaking fantastic title — wonder what the book is about?

• OH OH OH: A Biography of Migraine. Oh WOW. Great idea!

• Wait WHAT? — a narrative of the author’s 20-year chronic-migraine life, as well as the lives of other sufferers… a consideration of creative works by migraineurs from Joan Didion to Sylvia Plath. THAT’S MY BOOK!!!!!! CRAP CRAP CRAP. Someone else wrote my book before I could write my book!!! And it looks like she has done an excellent job!!!

I felt the searing hot heat of jealousy rise—and then I immediately felt it fade.

I felt a great sense of relief that someone else was writing that book and a certainty that this was an arena I was not going to enter.

Jealousy can be the most potent fuel. There have been other times in my creative life when jealousy flared up in me and caused me to double down on a goal, or declare that I would not rest until I did that self-same thing myself — but not this time.

I looked up Lisa Levy to learn more about her and saw that she had an open call to interview creative people with migraines.

I DM’d her to offer myself up.

I knew I wasn’t going to turn my years of suffering from migraine into a book that might offer solace to other people and I was delighted to offer my help to this author who was.

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