Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead

by Emily Austin

Genres: Black Humor; Literary Fiction; Women's Fiction

Synopsis

Meet Gilda. She cannot stop thinking about death. Desperate for relief from her anxious mind and alienated from her repressive family, she responds to a flyer for free therapy at a local church and finds herself abruptly hired to replace the deceased receptionist Grace. It's not the most obvious job - she's queer and an atheist for starters - and so in between trying to learn mass, hiding her new maybe-girlfriend and conducting an amateur investigation into Grace's death, Gilda must avoid revealing the truth of her mortifying existence.
A blend of warmth, deadpan humour, and pitch-perfect observations about the human condition, Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead is a crackling exploration of what it takes to stay afloat in a world where your expiration - and the expiration of those you love - is the only certainty.
A BUZZFEED 'HIGHLY ANTICIPATED BOOK' FOR 2021
Introducing the bumbling, anxious, helplessly kindhearted heroine we all need right now. Gilda might be an accidental Catholic, a lapsed lesbian, and an inept receptionist, but she's awfully good at helping us reckon-hilariously, tenderly-with our impending deaths. ? Courtney Maum, author of I Am Having So Much Fun Here Without You
As a queer woman whose brain can be a terrifying place, I devoured this novel about a panic-ridden lesbian who hides her sexuality to work at a Catholic Church. While the narrator is anxious beyond measure, the prose is self-assured - brisk and effortless, moving through time and space with ease. At its core, the novel is about the fragility of human life, kept fresh with an intriguing mystery and subtle moments of tenderness. Everyone In This Room Will Someday Be Dead is a dreary truth but a delightful read. ? Anna Dorn, author of VAGABLONDE
Everyone in this book will touch your heart. Austin's writing is spare yet exciting, each page sparkles with keen observation about the fleeting nature of life, yes, but also our profound ability to make lasting impact on those around us. I already can't wait to read what she writes next. ? Steven Rowley, New York Times bestselling author of The Editor
Anxious death-obsessed lesbians unite! I cackled and cringed in recognition while following the exploits of Gilda, who is plagued by intrusive thoughts about death and the absurdity of the human condition. Emily Austin is a unique and wry writer, and her debut novel manages to be both hilarious and profound, a winning combination. ? Celia Laskey, author of Under the Rainbow
The perfect blend of macabre and funny ? Buzzfeed
There's some strange magic at play here. A book about the anxiety of being someone else that possesses a genuine warmth and comfort? A book about death and depression that's laugh-out-loud funny? A book written in straightforward unadorned prose that nonetheless feels entirely distinctive? I don't know how Emily Austin does what she does, and honestly I don't care. I just want more. ? Sean Adams, author of The Heap
Emily Austin's protagonist, Gilda - an atheist, animal-loving lesbian who has worried about death since childhood-spoke directly to the deepest, darkest parts of myself. Did I mention that she's also hilarious? This is not just a tender-hearted story, it swerves like a thriller, and I couldn't put it down. ? SARA QUIN, band member of Tegan and Sara, co-author of New York Times bestseller High School
Dark, edgy humor and starting to buzz ? Library Journal, Spring/Summer Bests
Gilda, Emily Austin's anxious and endearing

Release date: July 6, 2021

Publisher: Atria Books

Print pages: 256

Sample

This office reminds me of my bedroom when I was nine and obsessed with sea turles, except Jeff is obsessed with crucifixes. I had a turtle bedset, turtle posters, and turtle stuffed animals. Jeff has a mixed-media gallery wall behind his desk with a wooden cross, a gold cross, a ceramic cross, and a framed photo of crosses. There is a cross-shaped candy dish in front of me that contains dusty Whether’s Originals, and a dirty coffee mug with a renaissanse painting on it of Jesus holding—you guessed it—a cross.

[…] I start to picture a world where Jesus had been killed using a different murder device. I picture little ceramic guillotine figurines. I imagine miniature nooses hung above children’s beds. Electric chair necklaces and earrings.