Foreword
The start of writing a book is kind of like when someone asks you what your favorite food is – suddenly your mind fills with static. Every taste that’s ever run across your tongue is just mysteriously absent from memory. “Pizza? Do I like pizza? Did pizza just come to mind because that’s what everyone’s favorite food is? I don’t want to be like everyone else. I do always request lasagna when I come home, but do I like it enough to deem it my favorite dish? I make soup a lot… but I don’t want to be branded as that fatphobic girl who’s trying to live off of water and celery. What do I like? Do I really have a favorite anything? Similarly, when you sit down to write a book (a pursuit you only haphazardly thought through 5 minutes ago,) you lose any sense of direction. Tapping your fingers against the still keys, you ask, “well, what do I even want to say? What do I know enough about to write an entire book on it, other than myself? But wait, do I actuall