Flesh & Blood

Thank you Algonquin Books for this gifted copy.

Happy Pub Day N. West Moss! This was such a moving, funny and openly honest memoir.

𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙞𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙫𝙪𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙨. 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙚, 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙨.

“I drive and say to myself, if I am dying, if this is how I die, then this is how I die.” When N. West Moss finds herself bleeding uncontrollably in the middle of a writing class, she drives herself to the hospital. Doctors are baffled, but eventually a diagnosis—hemangioma—is determined and a hysterectomy is scheduled. We follow Moss through her surgery, complications, and recovery as her thoughts turn to her previous struggles with infertility, to grief and healing, to what it means to leave a legacy.

Moss’s wise, droll voice and limitless curiosity lift this beautiful memoir beyond any narrow focus. Among her interests: yellow fever, good cocktails, the history of New Orleans, and, always, the natural world, including the praying mantis in her sunroom whom she names Claude. And we learn about the inspiring women in Moss’s family—her mother, her grandmother, and her great-grandmother—as she sorts out her feeling that this line will end with her. But Moss discovers that there are other ways besides having children to make a mark, and that grief is not a stopping place but a companion that travels along with us through everything, even happiness.

With public figures like Chrissy Teigen and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, speaking out about infertility recently, women are eager for voices that acknowledge their struggles. Fans of Lena Dunham, Leslie Jamison, and Jenny Lawson—along with readers of medical memoirs like When Breath Becomes Air and The Bright Hour—will find that connection in Flesh & Blood.

💬 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐬?