My second book, SORRY I’M LATE, I DIDN’T WANT TO COME is out in May 2019 in the US, the UK and the Netherlands (and soon in Russia, Germany, Korea and China). It’s about the year I spent: talking to strangers, performing stand-up comedy, travelling solo, trying out improv, going on friend dates and doing a bunch of extrovert-y things.  It’s about being an introvert and trying to extrovert for a full year.

I interview brilliant people throughout the book who guide me through these nightmares.

Reviews for Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come

‘Funny, emotional and deeply inspiring, this is perfect for anyone wanting to break out of their comfort zone’  Heat

‘I loved it! It’s such a wonderful title, and the book lives up to it’ Nigella Lawson 

‘Beautifully written and so funny! I related to it A LOT’ – Emma Jane Unsworth

‘Relatable, moving and fantastically funny’ – Rhik Samadder

“Very funny, very smart” (Liberty Hardy on the Book Riot’s For Real podcast)

Embrace the unknown, like I did this year. It led to a lot of unexpected places…insane things happened and I’m excited for you to read about them…

And if you want to read my first book, a memoir about living in Paris, Beijing, New York and Melbourne, GRADUATES IN WONDERLAND (Penguin 2014) is out now.

For clips and more about me, click here.

Shintrovert: a socially awkward introvert, a shy introvert, a SHINtrovert – (OR a pervert who is very into lower legs). This is the official definition, coined in my book.

I walk with purpose through the halls and see a tall man in his 60s, alone. I jump out of the corner at him like a nightmare. “Hi, I’m Jess,” I say. “Where do you live?”

Latest venture can be found in the Guardian Weekend Magazine. 

If you attempt this too, please tell me what happens!

My magnum opus.

“There are things an American in the U.K. will probably never get used to, like how there is seemingly only one flavor of Pop-Tart here, and that flavor is S’mores. Or how British people don’t know what strep throat is. Or how there are seven ways to say “bacon sandwich” and 141 ways to describe being “drunk” and not one sincere way of saying you are “super-excited.” People are also more skittish when you casually try to pet their dogs. (Please just let me pet your dogs, people of Britain!)”

Read the rest in The Cut / New York Magazine.

Print piece about why it’s okay to be scared in light of recent events in London and the UK. My editor needed a quick turnaround for this piece, so I powered through the night and until 5am to get it done before press day – and am so grateful for fast-responding sources.

Not my funnest piece but possibly my most important so far. Read it in Stylist this week.

About ten years ago, I got a letter in the mail when I was living in Australia (the first time). I opened it and all it said was, “I’m so sorry I missed you. – David.”

That was it. No other evidence of who it was, except that the return address on the envelope was from Paris.

So a man, named David, was in Paris pining for me and he had tracked me down in Australia to tell me. But he was locked in a tower with no wi-fi or electricity, so he could only scratch out this letter to me, just to make sure that I knew.

Later I told this story to Rachel and she informed me that it was she who had sent the letter and that the letter was from David Sedaris, whom she had met at one of his book readings. I actually think I like the real version better than the imagined. I’m so sorry I missed you, too, David.

I finally met David Sedaris the other night in London…

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David would. Except he’s a self-confessed luddite who can’t type.

So cheery. Until I saw the football results.

I loved it when footballers cried when overcome with emotion. Maybe it was because of the persistent myth of the Englishman’s ‘stiff upper lip’; his refusal to convey his emotions in public. Seeing a player moved to tears, to me, showed that he cared more than the rest. It wasn’t like watching an actor pretend to tear up. This shit was real. 

My latest piece for the Guardian Weekend magazine is about my love of English football and my take on UK culture.

I loved any sort of drama on and off the pitch. Family tensions, love problems, scandals. Brother pitched against brother on opposing sides. Managers shoving each other on the touchline. Basically, anything that your typical football fan views as a distraction from the real bread and butter, was my bread and butter. And so before too long, I became a resource of useless, soap-opera-esque facts about players.

If you’ve ever wondered about lip balm addiction, what it’s like to share the name of a superstar, or why men fall in love faster than women, then your prayers have been answered. I’ve been doing God’s work over at Broadly/VICE (take a look!) and would love any tips or pitches.