I have loved everything I've read by Kiese Laymom so when I saw that he was rereleasing this book with additional essays I jumped on it and it did not disappoint. He speaks so poignantly in all his writing and this was no exception.

Kiese Laymon, I believe, is one of the most important living American writers. This collection of thirteen essays is revised from his original collection in 2013 and includes six new and timely essays. Laymon candidly discusses the frustrating process of having to buy back the rights to his essay collection from the original publisher. Born and raised in Mississippi, Laymon writes about his connection to the state as well as his experiences living as a Black man in academia in the South. He looks at football, hop-hop, family relationships, and personal experiences through the lens of race, class, politics and Covid in America. His intelligence, humor and honesty shine through each essay. How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America should be required reading in this country and having only read Heavy, I am eager to read everything Laymon has ever written and I eagerly await his next publication.

A revised version of Laymon's 2013 essay collection by the same name. His memoir, Heavy, is the book I most revere from the last couple of years, so it was no surprise when this collection affected me.

I feel some discomfort reviewing Laymon’s work (and the work of many other Own Voices writers). Because it’s not written to or for me. In the publishing sense, I suppose they want white, suburban women to buy his books. But his artistry isn’t for me. So who am I to evaluate it? That said, one of the reasons I feel able to melt into the paragraphs of these essays is because he doesn’t interject his examination with exposition for readers like me. When, within an essay about the impact of hip-hop on southern Black boys, he references an 80’s rapper who millennial white women like me probably aren't familiar with, he doesn’t pause to provide context. His words flow and sweep. It’s on me to note the references I didn’t pick up, and research those later. The white audience’s responsibility doesn’t start and end with reading the pages.

But back to this collection as a whole. The essays manage to (seemingly) effortlessly synthesize inner experience with macro cultural context. They’re self interrogating. Laymon does what we should all do: offers himself grace and also expects himself to grow. I feel honored to have been able to look inside his family and his life through these pages.

Thank you to Scribner and NetGalley for the Reader's Copy!

Available Nov 10 2020

What a joy it was to revisit Kiese Laymon's extraordinary collection "How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America" in the continued aftermath of 2020. Through letters and essays, Laymon recollects his journey through academia, publishing and teaching. There were some laugh out loud moments and many more emotive, tearful moments. Overall, Laymon has penned a love letter to his mama, his hood and, above all else, to Black male joy. A much needed book during these evermore challenging times.

This book was very interesting and certainly necessary to read. Some essays, like about the writer's experience with publishing and about his grandmother's work history, I felt were especially strong. I think music buffs will definitely appreciate all of the cultural and historical analysis that appears throughout. The voice is engaging and sincere. I did find the essay collection to be uneven, and especially so that some of the dialogue and conversations felt stilted. Still, if you are interested in the premise of the book, I would definitely recommend checking it out.