Coming in May 23: An Obesity of Grief: A Memoir

I’ve signed a contract with Koehler Books, and my book, An Obesity of Grief: A Memoir, will be published in May 2023!

Here’s the “back of the book” synopsis:

AN OBESITY OF GRIEF is the story of a young woman’s twenty-four year quest for healing and answers following the death of her husband.

Nineteen years old with an eleven-day old baby, Lynn Haraldson’s world was shattered when her husband was killed in a tractor-train collision. She spent years denying the trauma of his violent death, and clung to the myth that there were linear, systemic stages of grief, and that one day, time would heal her pain.

Denial informed many of the decisions she made, including an unplanned pregnancy and staying in an abusive relationship. After two failed marriages, and gaining and losing more than one-hundred pounds—twice—a health scare forced her to confront her grief. Through therapy—and in an unexpected encounter with a train at the same tracks where her husband died—Lynn found the peace and healing she sought for more than twenty years, and regained her sense of belonging and self-worth.

In the coming months, there is much to do, but I’m terribly excited to share my story with the world in the hope that it brings someone who is grieving a bit of comfort knowing she is not alone.

Common Ground: Writings on Family, Change, Loss & Resilience

Widowed mother at nineteen. Stepmother at thirty-five. Divorced grandparents at forty-nine. Weight-loss dropout at fifty-five. Columnist and blogger Lynn Haraldson has lived it all. In this collection of candid, funny, and poignant stories, Lynn shares her extraordinarily ordinary life while inviting connection with others who have been down similar roads. Common Ground: Writings on Life, Change, Loss & Resilience is for anyone who has lost weight, lost a partner, or lost a pet. It’s for the band parent, or the stepmother who has taken her fourteen-year-old stepson clothes shopping. It’s for the pre-Internet generation who owns Purple Rain on cassette and can program a VCR, but probably doesn’t have a TikTok account. With a hint of memoir, but no rigid structure, you can open to any page and not feel lost. Most likely you’ll find yourself somewhere in her words, nodding your head and saying, “Been there, done that.”