It’s been a very interesting and pleasant experience to watch Maggie Ginsberg become an author. Well, obviously I haven’t been there for the entire process — Maggie’s likely been destined to become an author since the moment she found her voice as a middle schooler with a diary. But I remember sitting down with her at True Coffee Roasters pre-pandemic — during her time as Madison Magazine’s star freelance writer, before she became an associate editor — to go over the stories we hoped she’d write for the upcoming year. Back then when her book came up in conversation, what I remember most was how the octave of her voice dropped a bit lower; she was discouraged about finding a publisher to say “yes,” and the rejection letters stung. She was already years into the process, and her strand of hope, while still very much intact, was fraying.