Beneath her spine, legs draped on its arm, looking outside the window of her Massachusetts home. She has had back problems her whole life, although it’s going to be”difficult to escape the place,” she believes she is in a really good place, generally speaking.

“I’m conditioned by gratitude for certain,” states that the 37-year-old comedian and actress, famous for her characters in Parks and Recreation and Saturday Night Live. “And that I feel happiness in my normal state.” This feeling is evident from Slate’s very first publication, the surrealist-style Small Weirds, (Little Brown, November 5), that is less an article series and more a map of her mind.

Muses on subjects such as mysterious strangers, ghost-pirates, wildness, and Valentine’s Day, and frequently results in a revelation about self indulgent or finding peace in isolation. A darker bit inspired by a break up and the 2016 election, investigates depression, PMS, socio-political grief, and private distress. A number of the Weirds locate Slate in regular, when she discovers that the bright side of rough circumstances and won’t apologize for her wide array of feelings. “I am an emotional person,” she states. “I could get very low, and that I could go quite high, and I am tired of feeling such as these dips and swoops can not be integrated into a single expression of what it seems like for me to be living at the moment.”

Thank God I will say anything in any way. Thank God I am not silent. Thank God I have not given up.

Highs and highs and lows and swoops as though the celebrity is absorbing sunshine via an I.V.”In the gloomy pieces, I suppose that the delight is there, since it is like,’Thank God I could say anything in any way. Thank God I am not quiet. Thank God I have not given up,”’ she explained. There is a pause. “You understand what I believe that the joy is? I believe that it’s faith. I believe that it’s faith. Not spiritual faith. I am not spiritual, but I think that it’s a non-secular religion that there is still life to be lived.”

The Word”bizarre” has come to be a catch-all for something which does not fit the standard, on each side of the spectrum. Slate makes a point of accepting weirdness badly,”just like how Shakespeare employs the word bizarre,” she explained. “I think that it’s just another way to state this is something which can not be called anything but .” After landing a book deal in 2016, Slate did not really understand what she had been putting out to write, but she understood what she was not:”I did not need this for a publication of humor essays along with a memoir in my period in SNL,” she states. “That is not too significant for me at this stage. I began to write things to myself to soothe myselfand to remember why I wanted myselfand I enjoyed writing.” That is when Small Weirds began to take its wonderfully zany, undefinable form. Slate’s fine with the fact that her novel does not fit neatly into a genre–in actuality, she enjoys that. “To be bizarre,” she states,”would be to be magic.”