How to Make Insufferable Hedge Fund Baby-Men Cry: Be a Woman and Scale 😂

Turns Out Gen X Women Are Pretty Damn Good at "The Group Project"

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Good God in Heaven, my nerves are shot to hell. How are you?

Notes from the tour…
NYC was a whirlwind. Books Are Magic welcomed us with open arms, we got a shoutout in Forbes (no biggie), met with investors, and filmed under our giant glowing Quickies billboard in Times Square—where it was Hot. As. Balls.

Here are Said Balls.

And yes, we made midlife vags multiply and fly over Broadway, into every major retailer in the country. Because while we may be small, we understand something fundamental: publishing is a volume business. And midlife women? We are a generative force. We know how to build a strong backlist that blossoms into a bold frontlist across every platform we can get our sweaty little hands on.

Volume Business!

We’ll save the big Empress launch party for fall, when the city cools and the people return, ready to rally. But right now? We’re doing the group project of our lives.

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Gen X Women: Born for the Group Project

When you’ve scaled a company from 12 people to 12,000 and watched it go public (as I have), you learn this fast: It’s not about you. It’s about the group.

Gen X women were forged in the crucible of DIY chaos. At ten years old, we were producing backyard musicals with alarmingly high production values.

We don’t hear “no.” In fact, when a boomer man says it, something dark and delightful stirs inside us.

At my old firm, we had a motto that could’ve been stolen straight from The Terminator or The Devil Wears Prada: Convert or bypass. Picture Miranda Priestly flicking off a stole as she hisses it across a conference table.

We are the Latch Key generation. Drop a midlife woman in the Australian outback with a paperclip, a stick of gum, and a Banana Clip, and she’ll MacGyver her way home and publish a zine about it.

We did our homework solo. We cooked our own dinners. We babysat our siblings. We got part-time jobs, kept our grades up, stayed in sports, and still managed to roller-skate to Pat Benatar in the driveway like it was our full-time job.

We know how to build bridges, keep the Wi-Fi signal strong, and duct tape a dream together. We don’t need to be the lead singer—we're the bassline holding it all down. We invite the group in, pass the mic, and when obstacles pop up, we remove them like the drama-free, solution-forward Girl Scouts we are. (Badges included. Outfit optional.)

She’s not a whiner. She’s not a wallower.
She’s a Here’s-what-we’re-going-to-do kind of woman.
She’s merit-badged and mission-aligned.
She’s Elle Fanning in Super 8—driving the car, delivering the scene, and making sure everybody hits their mark.

There she is, on the left—getting it done—sans drama.

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What Happens When Women Scale?

You get a publishing team that leaps over Sharknado rockslides—parkour-style—amid extreme heat, flight delays, and shifting tour stops.

You get coordinated execution from:

• My COO and co-founder,

  Heather Bartos, MD

• Ned Rust, our master of dark global publishing arts

• Erinn McGrath, our CMO and velvet hammer

• Betsy
  Tong, our Chief Innovation Officer and bridge builder

• Shannon Power, our spreadsheet sorceress and CFO

• Molly Zakoor, our senior editor who can spot a dangling participle from SPACE!

• Empress Board Member and upcoming bestseller

  Kimberly Warner

• Designer Dave McLaughlin, cover conjurer extraordinaire

• Eva Hunt, our Head of Audio and all-around woman-Friday

• Jem, our social media ninja

• Valerie the Copyeditor (a.k.a. Saint Valerie)

• Claire Davy, Sales + Distribution Queen

• Keith Riegert, master of all miracles with Hachette

• Debbie & Brenda, our NYC printing dream team

• Cynthia & Betty in China, who deliver against all odds, tariffs, and Pantone demands

• Kirsten Miller
  , the instigator of it all, who said, “We have to hire each other.”

• Our exceptional product partners at plusOne, Phosis, and Luxor Hair

I could draw you an org chart in Canva, but we all know Steve Kornacki’s would be better—and he wouldn’t forget anyone’s title.

Also: Emma J Shipley, the sorceress behind our endpapers. Endpapers!

And then there’s Shannon Kennedy, our angel investor and advisor, and Heather—my Grankie twin. We are Grace and Frankie. We jump on the bed (and other things) when the good news hits, and we pass the tissues when it doesn’t.

Said Jumping!

And somehow, despite everything the world tells us midlife women can’t do, we do it. Together. And it’s joyful. And hard. And worth every damn second.

Because it’s not just one of us doing the impossible. It’s the entire group project—photobombing the Patriarchy in Times Square.

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What Does It Mean to Scale a Midlife Woman’s Work?

You KEEP taking up space. In bigger, weirder, more improbable ways.

You don’t ask for permission. You don’t wait for approval. You just do it.

And then? Women show up, reading your book in the subway, in bed, on the beach, in the boardroom.

Quickies in the WILD!

And so, over the last few months, we’ve seen women everywhere asking for a midlife follow-up to the iconic adolescent classic, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret?

Which is why we’re so excited to announce TODAY that we wrote it! Are You There God? It’s Me, Menopause: A Novel by Heather Bartos is coming to a bookshelf near you.

For every Gen X woman who once read Judy Blume under the covers with a flashlight—welcome to the hot flash sequel you never knew you needed.

Margaret is all grown up. She’s got teens of her own, a long marriage that’s running on fumes, and morning routines that involve green smoothies, dry shampoo, and low-level identity crises. Her body? Morphing. Her mind? Melting. Her uterus? Plotting an exit strategy. And when a certain surprise visitor shows up after seven period-free months, all hell—and hilarity—breaks loose.

Pre-order your autographed copy today and get:

• The Official “Screaming-into-the-Fan” Playlist
  Cue the Gen X mixtape of your life: Liz Phair, Alanis, Salt-N-Pepa, Bikini Kill, George Michael... even your pillow gets a scream track.

• Margaret’s Annotated Bathroom Copy
  An exclusive, annotated sampler with irreverent wisdom, post-it-worthy zingers, and author notes that belong on sweatshirts.

• The “Burn the Casseroles” Book Club Guide
  Real talk. Real snacks. Real name tags: “I Must Increase My Bust,” anyone?

• Book Club Bundles (of 6 books or more) get a special virtual chat with the author.

Offer valid through Menopause Awareness Month… and beyond. Because time is a flat circle, my friend, and our metabolism is still at summer camp.

Use Code: JZ7N4IA for Free Shipping

And don’t forget the T-shirt

It’s $20 and says it ALL—so you don’t have to. 😂

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What Else Does It Take to Scale?

Play. AI-enabled reader experiences that you own. (Taylor’s Version, but for books.) If Meta’s gonna steal, we may as well rob ourselves first—with flair.

Stretch. Meanopause: The Musical is REAL. Imagine Death Becomes Her meets Mean Girls—with show-stopping numbers from our Gen X adolescence. Yes, they will involve my annoying parents, their work on the Clinton campaign, and their incessant soundtrack of positivity.

Bridge. We juggle it all. The boss. The kids. The aging parents.

Last week, mid-editorial call, I get a text from my dad. I hadn’t replied to his previous text fast enough… so he sent the cops to my house for a wellness check.

I’m like, “Pop. I’m in a meeting. I’m 55. I’m allowed to do meetings.”

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This is what scaling looks like. It’s messy. It’s brilliant. It’s loud and loving and sweaty and communal. And today? Our author is taking a well-earned break to take her daughter to see Ann and Nancy Wilson from Heart, because legacy matters.

How do you make a hedge fund bro cry?
Sing him this, and walk away:

Correction: I’M the magic, man.

(Then, you secretly sing to your witchy self)

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So, there you have it…

To our early birds: your autographed Quickies copies are on their way.
To our Boston crew: Catch Heather at Lovestruck Books on Monday! $5 tickets, $150 swag bags from Phosis, plusOne, and Luxor Hair, and stories that make you scream-laugh.

Yours, In a hot, HOT flash - xoxo, gotham girl

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PS - I am a human typo. Amnesty appreciated.