From the co-author of Let This Radicalize You, a collection of letters to inspire activists to continue the fight
Organizers are well seasoned in defeat. We study movement histories, strategize collectively, and gather strength in direct action, knowing that liberation does not arrive overnight, but that the fight is worth it. But what happens when political and personal crises overlap, and the despair becomes overwhelming? Where do we turn when the process of organizing no longer feels like a site of refuge, but isolating, or even tragic?
Read This When Things Fall Apart is a collection of letters written to organizers in crisis who are struggling with the conflicts, heartbreaks, and catastrophes that activists so often experience. From grief to exhaustion, fractured relationships, state violence and interpersonal violence, the struggle for justice can be tumultuous. Each letter invites the reader to the writer’s particular world in abortion defense, organizing within prison walls, recuperating from state repression after the 2020 uprisings, or as a new parent struggling to find their way in movement spaces, and offers an authentic account of moving through difficult times.
Personal, reflective, and hopeful, Read This When Things Fall Apart is a new type of book for radicals that harnesses the writers' individual moments of despair into living, breathing wisdom capable of chipping away at the supposed inevitability of fascist life. Restorative like a letter from a trusted friend and invigorating like a story from a mentor, the book is an indispensable companion for all of us navigating the challenging times ahead.
Thank you to Kelly and AK Press for an ARC of this book at Socialism 2025!
We're in the time of monsters, y'all. I'm writing this review in July 2025, but I imagine by the time of the release of this book in November, things are probably still really fucking bad, as they have been for a long time and continue to get worse. And if you're anything like me or the people who wrote or will read this book, you're someone who wants/is doing something about it. I'm glad to call you all my comrades in this struggle.
But unfortunately, that probably means you either have or will encounter various forms of trauma and grief within your work. Maybe you've lost a loved one, watched unthinkable things happen to yourself and others, had falling outs and heartbreaks and betrayals that make you question if this is all worth it.
This short but powerful collection of letters is meant to help you feel a little less alone in those struggles, with the hope that these words will help you feel more grounded.
Some of the letters in this were for things I have experienced, and they helped me think through and process them. Some of these letters are for things I'm dreading will happen to me in the future - I hope to return to this book at said time and see if these words help me then.
It's not an exhaustive compilation, because that's an absurd demand. But I'd say this book is like a constellation peaking out through cloudy night skies - something that may help orient or guide you when you are feeling lost.
This is definitely a book I'll be returning to in the coming months, and I'm excited for more folks to read it. I am grateful to it's various authors for sharing their lives and struggles with all of us, so that we can all learn from and be shaped by it.
This collection of essays is both searing and tender, offering a window into the lived experiences of those who put themselves on the front lines of change. Each piece carries the weight of a personal reckoning: what it costs to stand up, what it feels like to burn out, and why, even when the world resists, organizers keep showing up anyway.
What makes the book so gripping is its refusal to flatten activism into slogans or tidy victories. It captures the vulnerability and contradictions behind the work. The essays wrestle with exhaustion, identity, and the bittersweet realization that progress often comes at the expense of personal peace. Some stories leave you raw with their honesty. Others offer glimpses of resilience that feel like sparks in the dark.
The perspectives are as varied as the causes they fight for, and together they form a mosaic that feels deeply human and unapologetically political. As a reader, I often found myself torn. I was moved by their courage, stirred to act, yet also aware of the distance between their lives and my own. That tension is part of the book’s power. It invites you to reflect not only on what activism demands but on where you, too, stand in relation to change.
Sometimes activism feels impossible. Burnout, grief, setbacks - they’re all part of showing up for change. Read This When Things Fall Apart is a collection of letters from people who’ve been there, who’ve faced exhaustion, heartbreak and the weight of fighting for justice.
These essays aren’t about easy answers or tidy victories. They’re honest and raw, full of hard-won lessons, quiet hope and reminders that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. Writers like Mariame Kaba, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha and Brian Merchant share what it costs to stand on the front lines - and why they keep going anyway.
Some letters left me feeling heavy, others sparked something like courage in the dark. The collection is tender, searing, reflective, and above all, human. Even if you’re not on the front lines yourself, it makes you think about where you stand in the fight for change.
A book I want everyone trying to make a difference to read - especially when it all feels too much.