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Home - Bottom Row

Let's Panic: The Book!

Order your copy today!

How to Endure and Possibly Triumph Over the Adorable Tyrant
who Will Ruin Your Body, Destroy Your Life, Liquefy Your Brain,
and Finally Turn You
into a Worthwhile
Human Being.

Written by Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy

Some Books
I'm In...

Sleep Is
For The Weak

Chicago Review Press

Home - Middle Row

Let's Panic

The site that inspired the book!

At LET'S PANIC ABOUT BABIES, Eden Kennedy and I share our hard-won wisdom and tell you exactly what to think and feel and do, whether you're about to have a baby or already did and don't know what to do with it. → 


Practice of Writing: new session begins January 14th

The Practice of Writing was so successful last time, I'm doing it again. Please join me!

This is a five-week course that will help you jumpstart a daily writing habit, increase your confidence as a writer, and get a lot of work done. I'm putting together  a detailed FAQ for the course description page, but I wanted to get the registration information up ASAP, as I know many of you wanted to give the course as a Christmas gift.

Let me know if you have any questions, and I'll answer them here and on the FAQ. The fee for this session is $95 USD, and fair warning--it will likely increase for the next time.



p.s. once you've paid through PayPal, you are automatically registered in the course. I will send out confirmations, but do not fret! If you've paid, you're on the list.


Look for the helpers 

My mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." To this day, especially in times of disaster, I remember my mother's words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpersso many caring people in this world.

Fred Rogers

Henry's home from school, here with his best friend. They're in his room playing with Legos and discussing girls they like (sorry, guys, but I can totally hear you). This is another day to them. As it should be. As it should have been for everyone.

My heart is sick for all the families whose family members are not coming home today. Words fail in times like these. All we can do is cry, and pray, and fight for change. I am trying to figure out what I'm going to tell Henry later, after his friend goes home. Here's some helpful advice, if you're wondering the same thing.

If you're feeling overwhelmed with grief or panic, there is help. The Disaster Distress Helpline provides 24-hour support to anyone who needs it. It's free and confidential. 1-800-985-5990. You are not alone.


The Brady Center to Prevent Gun Violence

Gun Control. Now.

If anyone else has any helpful resources to share in the comments, please do. (No pro-gun comments, please--you're just going to get deleted and probably blocked.)



Ho ho hurrrgh

On Saturday we did a thing we should not have done. We went to the Toys R Us in Times Square.

If you live in New York, if you've ever visited New York, or if you have even a smidgen of sense you are wondering what might be wrong with us. "Don't go to the Toys R Us in Times Square on a Saturday, especially on a Saturday a few weeks before Christmas" is right up there in the Most Obvious Advice Category, right after "Don't do a Google Image Search for 'syphilis.'"

The answer is, I have no answer for you. We took leave of our senses. We were in the neighborhood, we were already suffering, and Saturday being the first day of Hanukkah, we thought we'd get a little something for Henry because usually I get him something and I forgot. We thought "How bad could it be, really?" and we shared that thought with one another, and the response that came back to us was not "Worse than you can possibly imagine in your worst nightmares." It was not "Hieronymus Bosch-like levels of horrible."

Like this, only
waaaay more crowded.

Even Henry, who was pretty amped up about getting a Hanukkah gift, was like, "Mother? Father? We are leaving here and never returning." Unfortunately we had already entered, and were trapped in a sea of people. You can't paddle upstream, when it's people. You somehow find yourself on the up escalator, wondering if they really need to have the enormous animatronic T-Rex blasting and lurching like it's going to eat us and making the kids scream and you know what? I'm not writing about this anymore. It was horrible! The end!

The good news is we got out. And also we never have to go there ever again. But seriously, Toys R Us? You are not allowed to let your stores exceed maximum capacity. You are lucky no one was injured. Or maybe they were, and you stuffed them in your T-Rex? Either way, you are worse than terrible.

Let's forget all about Toys R Us. Let's watch Maymo, shall we? Hi Maymo!

Maymo always helps. And never hurts. Maymo is un-terrible.

What else? Well, my friends! WELL! I've got the second round of A Practice of Writing coming up, beginning January 14th. (Those of you paying attention will note that I changed the date from December 31st. Who starts a class on New Year's Eve? Honestly.) I will be opening registration this week. Get ready.



After the publication of Let's Panic About Babies! in 2011, both our editor and agent left the publishing industry. "What's the point of continuing?" we assume they thought. "We have published the perfect book. Our work here is done."  And while worthy replacements stepped in right away, some details got lost in the transition. Like the fact that our book was being published in Germany.


Actually our editor had mentioned it as a possibility, shortly before she sailed off into the Great Unknown. Failing to hear any sort of follow-up, Eden and I naturally assumed the Germans were disgusted by our attempts to make light of the baby-making process (insert lengthy German word for "baby-making process."). But apparently it was a go, after all. Which we discovered when these books arrived at our respective doorsteps. Sent by the stork! Der Klapperstorch!


I'm glad to see that HUMOR at the end, there. I mean, what if the Germans took us seriously? And an entire nation believed that someone could mistake a horseshoe crab for their own child?


Here's the best part: according to Google Translate, the German title for our book is THEY ALWAYS COME OUT. I've been reminding Henry of this fact as we go about our day. "They always come out, Henry." "Yes, mom. I know." "Always."



THEY ALWAYS COME OUT is my favorite title ever. Is it too late to change the name of our book? Second edition, maybe?



(p.s.: there's no German equivalent for "Huggs," I guess. Also, that first bullet point is supposed to be "gently bearded," not "friendly beard." Who has a friendly beard? Ridiculous!)



(p.p.s.: "Funkle, funkle?" Really, German?)



(p.p.s: TAFT! WAR! FETT!)

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