Much to Your Chagrin

Suzanne Guillette was twenty-nine and the proud owner of a freshly inked MFA when she began to work on her first book—a collection of embarrassing moments gathered from family, friends, coworkers, and strangers on the street. Stories poured in about every possible type of gaffe, from wardrobe malfunctions (widespread) to romantic misunderstandings (ditto), and from office faux pas (common) to bodily fluid mishaps ( distressingly common). Everyone Guillette talked to was enthusiastic about her clever project—and no one more so than Jack, the wry, handsome literary agent who Guillette thought might just be her soul mate.

But as time marched on, Guillette began to realize that her oh-so-cheerful study of other people’s embarrassing moments might just be, instead, a way to avoid looking at the deeper, more uncomfortable truths behind her own.

Like her increasingly frequent need to sneak out of work (at a health agency, natch) for a “quick smoke” to settle her nerves. Or her stubborn ability to ignore the reality that her fairytale romance with Jack was imploding in a truly spectacular fashion. When Guillette accepted that the story she was meant to tell was not others’ but her own, Much to Your Chagrin was born.