A Letter from Mallary Tenore Tarpley

Dear Reader,

I was 8 years old when I wrote my first memoir. (Actually, according to my bio on the last page, I was 8 and three quarters — an important detail for a third grader.) I was so proud of the book, which was about how I used to feed the ducks in the pond that ran along the backyard of my childhood home. My mom was proud too — so much so that she sent the book away to a company that bound and printed it for me.

 

When my mother gifted me that book for my 9th birthday, I felt like a real-life author. I held the book close for years, and it was a source of comfort for me when my mother passed away from metastatic breast cancer when I was 11. I saw it as a symbol of love and a show of belief in my potential to one day become a published author.

 

Now, thirty years later, I’ve met that goal with the publication of my debut memoir SLIP. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I spent more than half my life writing this book, dating back to when I was 17 years old. Every five or six years, I’d write a different iteration. Each one was focused on my struggles with anorexia nervosa, which I had developed due to the trauma of losing my mother.

 

I used to think I had to be fully recovered to actually get my book published; all the books I’d ever read about anorexia were written from the perspective of people who had overcome their disorder. But when I set out to write what would become the final iteration of my book, I decided to tell a different story — not one about full recovery but about what it’s like to live in “the middle place” between acute sickness and full recovery. It’s an imperfect place where slips happen (hence the title of my book), but progress is always possible. And it’s an apt metaphor for where so many of us find ourselves, no matter what it is we’re struggling with or trying to work through.

 

I published my middle place memoir when I was 40 — the same age my mother was when she passed away. As I begin to outlive my mother, I see my book as a gift to the girl I was and the woman I’ve become. I also hope it will be a gift to you, dear reader, as you navigate life’s messy middles.  

 

Sincerly,