If you don't know me in person, you might not realize I am a competition-grade crier. I get choked up several times daily, just from thinking thoughts, and full-onslaught blubbering is a not infrequent occurrence.
From a young age I disliked admonishments against crying. Why on earth wouldn't I cry? It's not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of emotion. So I was eager to read Benjamin Perry's book Cry, Baby for that sweet sweet confirmation bias.
I suppose I was expecting lots of research showing why crying is good and healthy, but as Perry explains, there haven't been many studies. People generally, and pharmaceutical executives particularly, don't see repressed tears as a problem. So while there's a bit of science here, much of the material is drawn from literature, religious scriptures, and contemporary events, as when Amy Cooper, the white lady with the dog in Central Park, called the police in tears with a fabricated story of being harassed by Christopher Cooper (extremely no relation), a Black man who was out birding. By the way, his memoir Better Living Through Birding: Notes from a Black Man in the Natural World got a starred review in Shelf Awareness.
Perry is a progressive minister fluent in the often academic language of social justice. I eat that stuff like candy, but it will not be accessible or enjoyable to all audiences. That's fine--but I hope someone else will write a book about crying aimed at more general audiences. People with conservative politics need to hear this message, too.
When Covid first hit, I started doing book talks on social media as a way to keep in touch with people. I never got out of the habit. I don't discuss books by my clients, and if I don't like a book, I won't discuss it at all. While I will sometimes focus on craft or offer gentle critical perspectives, as a matter of professional courtesy, I don't trash writers. Unless they're dead. Then the gloves come off.