Jagged Little Pill, page 19
“It’s okay,” he says. “If you need this, if you need to get it all out, we’re here for it.”
Mom looks at me and Nick and then at Dad, her eyes wide, her mouth a thin little line, and turns back to the screen.
“As you all know, I overdosed on fentanyl and oxycodone. I’m sure it was a hot topic at the coffee shop and various PTA meetings, but I don’t care. Don’t worry, it was exactly as humiliating and messy as you all imagined and probably gossiped about it to be. After they pulled all the tubes out of my body, I went to the Deptford Recovery Center for ninety days. That was the easy part. A few months after I came home, I relapsed—most of us do—and now I’m in an outpatient program. The hard part will be living with this recovery for the rest of my life.
“I didn’t expect to make friends there, because I’m that stuck-up bitch from a Connecticut suburb, but I met some of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I’ve lived among all of you in this town and afar for so long that I forgot what empathy felt like.”
There’s a long pause and Mom glances at all of us.
“Well?” she asks.
“It’s great, sweetheart,” Dad says. “But you’re not actually going to send it like that, are you?”
“Oh, no, you’re right.” Mom laughs. “It’s missing something.”
She types something on the screen while reading.
“Love, MJ.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Dad laughs and rubs his hand over his face. Nick snorts out a little chuckle too. “It’s just, you’re not there anymore, you know? Rock bottom and all. I think you know that, and maybe you think you’re still there, but you’re not.”
“Where am I then?”
“Rock . . . middle?” Nick ventures.
“I’ll take that.” She smiles.
“Look, I think next year’s letter is going to be different,” Mom says, looking at the screen. “Maybe not amazing. Maybe not some spectacular humblebrag. But it’ll be a little bit better. Every year, every day, is going to get a little bit better. I think this is my last letter, though.”
“You’re not going to do them anymore?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “Because Christmas letters that list all your accomplishments and brag about your family are for assholes.”
“Mom!” Nick laughs.
“I dare you to send it,” I say, grinning at Mom.
She holds my gaze.
I hold hers.
And with a smirk, she jabs a key.
“Merry fucking Christmas,” Mom says, throwing her hands in the air.
“Who did that go to?” Dad asks, laughing.
There’s a little pause, and Mom’s eyes flit up to mine.
“Everyone.”
Lyrics Credits
“All I Really Want,” “Hand in My Pocket,” “Ironic,” “Right Through You,” “You Learn,” “You Oughta Know”: written by Alanis Morissette & Glen Ballard; Songs of Universal, Inc. (BMI) on behalf of itself and Vanhurst Place Music, Arlovol Music (ASCAP) administered by Penny Farthing Music (ASCAP) c/o Concord Music Publishing.
“Hands Clean,” “Unprodigal Daughter”: written by Alanis Morissette; Universal Music Corp. (ASCAP) on behalf of itself and 1974 Music.
“Head Over Feet,” written by Alanis Morissette & Glen Ballard; contains elements of “Your House,” written by Alanis Morissette & Glen Ballard; Songs of Universal, Inc. (BMI) on behalf of itself and Vanhurst Place Music, Arlovol Music (ASCAP) administered by Penny Farthing Music (ASCAP) c/o Concord Music Publishing.
“No,” written by Alanis Morissette & Guy Sigsworth; Szeretlek (ASCAP), Concord Sounds (ASCAP) c/o Concord Music Publishing.
“Predator,” written by Alanis Morissette & Michael Farrell; Szeretlek (ASCAP), Cat Minority Music (ASCAP).
“Thank U,” written by Alanis Morissette & Glen Ballard; Universal Music Corp. (ASCAP) on behalf of itself and 1974 Music, Arlovol Music (ASCAP) administered by Penny Farthing Music (ASCAP) c/o Concord Music Publishing; contains elements of “Torch,” written by Alanis Morissette & Guy Sigsworth, Szeretlek (ASCAP), Universal PolyGram Int. Publishing, Inc. on behalf of Universal Music Publishing Ltd. (ASCAP).
Acknowledgments
When I was in sixth grade, members of my school chorus were selected to perform in the original Broadway production of A Christmas Carol as adorable little angels. We spent evenings at our school in Elizabeth, New Jersey, and, later, in New York City rehearsing for a run that lasted the entire fall and winter.
To say it was a magical time is a wild understatement.
As I grew up, I sometimes thought about maybe one day finding my way back to Broadway. The lights. The music. The permission to daydream. But never in a million years did I see myself doing it through a novel.
Yet here we are. And there are a lot of people to thank for it.
To Alanis Morissette, Diablo Cody, Glen Ballard, Arvind Ethan David, and Vivek J. Tiwary for this wild opportunity. To Maggie Lehrman, who knew how important this story would be to me. To my literary agent, Jennifer Azantian, a guiding light and friend.
To the team at Abrams and Amulet: Gaby Paez, Jenny Choy, Patricia McNamara O’Neill, Kim Lauber, Hallie Paterson, Amy Vreeland, Heather Allen, Andrew Smith, Elisa Gonzalez, Emily Daluga, and Noa Denmon for the gorgeous work on the cover.
To my writer friends Farah Naz Rishi, Lauren Gibaldi, Tom Torre, Chris Urie, Rebecca Podos, Preeti Chhibber, Swapna Krishna, Laura Taylor Namey, Emily X. R. Pan, Saundra Mitchell, Mike Chen, Mary Kenney, Neil Bardhan, Anna Birch, Rosiee Thor, Olivia A. Cole, Fran Wilde, and Christopher and Shannon Wink for keeping me grounded.
Miguel Bolivar and Darlene Meier, I’d fall apart without you both.
To my colleagues and friends at P.S. Literary. What a team. Thank you for fostering a warm and welcome environment where I can find the time to create.
To my darling wife, Nena Boling-Smith, who had to hear the Broadway cast recording again and again for several months in a row. I love you. To my son, Langston: you are the biggest star in the musical of my life. To my entire family, my parents and my siblings.
And, finally, to Barbara Peraino, Carmen Rooney, and the late Charlotte Cade, my teachers in sixth grade. The ones who got me onstage as a kid and taught me to keep dreaming big about a life in the arts. Mrs. Rooney, I still remember you reading children’s books by Barbara Park and Judy Blume to a greenroom full of nervous, terrified kids in order to calm us down before we hit the stage.
I heard every single word.
Thank you, everyone, who daydreamed with me.
About the Creators
ERIC SMITH is a YA author and literary agent with P.S. Literary. His books include You Can Go Your Own Way, Battle of the Bands (edited with Lauren Gibaldi), Don’t Read the Comments (a YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults selection), The Girl and the Grove, and The Geek’s Guide to Dating. Originally from Elizabeth, New Jersey, he now lives in Philadelphia with his family.
Since 1995, ALANIS MORISSETTE has been one of the most influential singer-songwriter-musicians in contemporary music. Her deeply expressive music and performances have earned vast critical praise and seven Grammy Awards. Morissette’s 1995 debut, Jagged Little Pill, has been followed by nine more eclectic and acclaimed albums. Outside of entertainment, she is an avid supporter of female empowerment as well as spiritual, psychological, and physical wellness. On December 5, 2019, Jagged Little Pill the musical made its Broadway debut at the Broadhurst Theatre in New York City and subsequently won two Tony Awards. In July 2020, Alanis released her ninth studio album, Such Pretty Forks in the Road, to rave reviews. In August 2021, Alanis kicked off her world tour celebrating twenty-five years of Jagged Little Pill. Alanis also appeared as a judge on Fox’s competition show Alter Ego.
DIABLO CODY is the Oscar Award–winning writer and producer best known for Juno, Young Adult, and Jennifer’s Body.
GLEN BALLARD is a six-time Grammy producer and songwriter. Over the course of his career, he’s worked with some of the biggest names in music, including Alanis Morissette, Michael Jackson, Wilson Phillips, Dave Matthews Band, Quincy Jones, Aerosmith, Annie Lennox, Shakira, and many others.
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