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Sad Happens: A Celebration of Tears
A beautifully-illustrated, celebratory anthology exploring sadness—and the transformative power of tears.
When was the last time you cried? Was it because you were sad? Or happy? Overwhelmed, or frustrated? Maybe from relief or from pride? Was it in public or in private? Did you feel better afterwards, or worse? The reasons that we cry—and the circumstances in which we shed a tear—are often surprising and beautiful. Sad Happens is a collective, multi-faceted archive of tears that captures the complexity and variety of these circumstances.
We hear from Mike Birbiglia on the role that grief and pain have in comedy; Jia Tolentino on how motherhood made her cry in both hormonal joy and fervent rage; and Hanif Abdurraqib on the intimacy of crying on planes. We hear from Phoebe Bridgers on poignant moments of departure and JP Brammer on the strange disappointments of success; Matt Berninger on becoming a crybaby in his adulthood and Hua Hsu on crying during a moment of public uncertainty. We also hear from everyday people in a range of an actor on the tips she learned from drag queens about preserving a full face of makeup while crying; a zookeeper on mourning the animals who have died during her tenure; a bartender on crying in the walk-in; and a TV critic on the shows that have moved her.
Brimming with humanity, this anthology is confirmation that sad happens—but so does joy, love, a sense of community, and a host of other emotions. By turns moving and affirming, Sad Happens is an emotional balm and visual delight.
When was the last time you cried? Was it because you were sad? Or happy? Overwhelmed, or frustrated? Maybe from relief or from pride? Was it in public or in private? Did you feel better afterwards, or worse? The reasons that we cry—and the circumstances in which we shed a tear—are often surprising and beautiful. Sad Happens is a collective, multi-faceted archive of tears that captures the complexity and variety of these circumstances.
We hear from Mike Birbiglia on the role that grief and pain have in comedy; Jia Tolentino on how motherhood made her cry in both hormonal joy and fervent rage; and Hanif Abdurraqib on the intimacy of crying on planes. We hear from Phoebe Bridgers on poignant moments of departure and JP Brammer on the strange disappointments of success; Matt Berninger on becoming a crybaby in his adulthood and Hua Hsu on crying during a moment of public uncertainty. We also hear from everyday people in a range of an actor on the tips she learned from drag queens about preserving a full face of makeup while crying; a zookeeper on mourning the animals who have died during her tenure; a bartender on crying in the walk-in; and a TV critic on the shows that have moved her.
Brimming with humanity, this anthology is confirmation that sad happens—but so does joy, love, a sense of community, and a host of other emotions. By turns moving and affirming, Sad Happens is an emotional balm and visual delight.
288 pages, Hardcover
Published November 14, 2023
31 people are currently reading
2778 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 36 reviews
February 9, 2025
Such a cathartic read especially with the world right now. Highly recommend if you need an emotional release.
September 7, 2024
This book does a good job at normalizing tears and whatever emotion may come along with it! Good coffee table book that you can pick up and put down whenever.
December 30, 2023
absolutely gloriously poignant and meaningful artwork!! that was my favorite part, plus the whole concept for this book speaks deeply to my soul! i loved the variety and simplicity. the phoebe bridgers essay was my favorite.
June 21, 2024
Absolutely profound and touching. So glad I listened to it on audio - each essay was read by its own author and it made the stories that much more impactful.
January 6, 2025
There is a panel in Kate Gavino's graphic novel A Career in Books where a character has a list of places where she's cried in public, and I have never felt so seen. I could be a backwards-walking tour guide of the KU campus, except instead of pointing out urban legends and trivia, I could point out the offices and buildings where I've been brought to tears. There is the restaurant I'm too embarrassed to go back to, the coffee shop close to a former therapist's office. A whole lot of libraries. I've been known to go to the movies just to have a place in the dark surrounded by people and a swelling soundtrack to drown out my sobs. So, yeah, I'm a crier. Not just sad tears, but every emotion seems to leak out my eyeballs. Exhaustion, joy, fear, laughter, while experiencing the best books, movies, music. Overwhelm, anxiety, anger. Oh, angry tears are the WORST. I used to hate how easily I can become overcome, but as I've gotten older I've accepted it. I'd rather be someone that cares too much than too little. Or not at all.
So when I was looking for a new essay collection to pick up, I was very much drawn to Sad Happens: A Celebration of Tears edited by Brandon Stosuy, illustrated by Rose Lazar, and with contributions from a variety of creators: Matt Berninger of The National, Mike Birbiglia, Hanif Abdurraqib, Phoebe Bridgers. And some contributions from ordinary people whose work puts them frequently in contact with crying people: journalists, therapists, hospice aides, EMTS. Each entry is very short, a page or two. These pieces represent a range of people ,experiences, emotions -- crying in recognition, out of laughter, art, loneliness, pain. (Also who knew so many people cry on airplanes? It was the subject of several different entries, but Hanif Abdurraqib explains it beautifully "If there is a heaven, and if it exists in the sky, and if it holds everyone I have loved and everyone I miss, it is certainly higher than the heights any airplane can reach. And yet, you are still suspended, well above any of the living people you love and also miss. Too high to touch the living, not high enough to be an audience to your beloved dead. I propose that this is the loneliest place. The body might not know it, but it doesn't matter. The heart rings the loudest bell. Everything else falls in line."
In the end, my favorite pieces were about a bookstore employee who finally feels brave enough to come out to a beloved regular, only to get a surprising response. And a man who didn't even make it onto an airplane before crying, whose tears in the airport inspired a random stranger to leave him a note "I hope you can remember that we are human, there is love." After picking this one up, I also grabbed Cry, Baby: Why Our Tears Matter by Benjamin Perry, which I had remembered reading a glowing review of awhile back, and so have been reading both simultaneously. I highly recommend that one, too.
So when I was looking for a new essay collection to pick up, I was very much drawn to Sad Happens: A Celebration of Tears edited by Brandon Stosuy, illustrated by Rose Lazar, and with contributions from a variety of creators: Matt Berninger of The National, Mike Birbiglia, Hanif Abdurraqib, Phoebe Bridgers. And some contributions from ordinary people whose work puts them frequently in contact with crying people: journalists, therapists, hospice aides, EMTS. Each entry is very short, a page or two. These pieces represent a range of people ,experiences, emotions -- crying in recognition, out of laughter, art, loneliness, pain. (Also who knew so many people cry on airplanes? It was the subject of several different entries, but Hanif Abdurraqib explains it beautifully "If there is a heaven, and if it exists in the sky, and if it holds everyone I have loved and everyone I miss, it is certainly higher than the heights any airplane can reach. And yet, you are still suspended, well above any of the living people you love and also miss. Too high to touch the living, not high enough to be an audience to your beloved dead. I propose that this is the loneliest place. The body might not know it, but it doesn't matter. The heart rings the loudest bell. Everything else falls in line."
In the end, my favorite pieces were about a bookstore employee who finally feels brave enough to come out to a beloved regular, only to get a surprising response. And a man who didn't even make it onto an airplane before crying, whose tears in the airport inspired a random stranger to leave him a note "I hope you can remember that we are human, there is love." After picking this one up, I also grabbed Cry, Baby: Why Our Tears Matter by Benjamin Perry, which I had remembered reading a glowing review of awhile back, and so have been reading both simultaneously. I highly recommend that one, too.
July 30, 2023
NetGalley provided an advanced copy of this work in exchange for an honest review.
I like books and movies that explore loneliness and isolation, the desire for connection - wanting to be understood, not just physically desired. Shopgirl, The Girl in the Cafe, Lars and the Real Girl, Lost in Translation, Her. This book about sadness is an unexpected addition to the roster.
Artists, musicians, comedians, poets, teachers, first responders, and others wrote in to talk about the emotional release of weeping, the unexpected shared connection. It is expected that they talk about old hurts triggered by new traumas, letting go of unhealthy relationships, watching loved ones deteriorate and die, Covid-19, and other stresses. Authors talk about gendered expectations, too, of being a “strong black female - that is, repressed” and the conditioning to smile and always be pleasant, our shame in taking up space or potentially ruining another person’s experience. We all go around so tightly wound, so isolated, so lonely, that often a small kindness, a small breath of peace, a long over-due massage can trigger a release. The stories I found especially beautiful are the ones where tears brought people together. The gay bookseller who explained to his long time customer that he had a husband, and crying that it was something he had to whisper and her regrets that she hadn’t been as brave. To the anonymous traveler who left a note on a person’s suitcase who had been having a moment - I hope you can remember that we are human, there is love. Reading about a young child who was absolutely destroyed by a maudlin song, and remembering my own version -“He Stopped Loving Her Today” by George Jones. A college acquaintance blurting out in small talk “my dad died a couple of weeks ago” to someone who had also just lost their father, and how they felt safe enough to cry together over a shared pain made more real.
Like the editor states, this isn’t meant to be a sad book, despite the title. It’s meant to be cathartic and helpful, to make you feel less weird for having big feelings (that maybe you weren’t taught how to handle) and less alone.
Each stand-alone entry is a quick read, most just a few paragraphs long. Like any collection of essays or short stories, there are some that are stronger than others. My only complaint is that I would rather have had fewer entries with more depth and analysis (or a point to be made) and culled a few of the more superficial or redundant view points.
I like books and movies that explore loneliness and isolation, the desire for connection - wanting to be understood, not just physically desired. Shopgirl, The Girl in the Cafe, Lars and the Real Girl, Lost in Translation, Her. This book about sadness is an unexpected addition to the roster.
Artists, musicians, comedians, poets, teachers, first responders, and others wrote in to talk about the emotional release of weeping, the unexpected shared connection. It is expected that they talk about old hurts triggered by new traumas, letting go of unhealthy relationships, watching loved ones deteriorate and die, Covid-19, and other stresses. Authors talk about gendered expectations, too, of being a “strong black female - that is, repressed” and the conditioning to smile and always be pleasant, our shame in taking up space or potentially ruining another person’s experience. We all go around so tightly wound, so isolated, so lonely, that often a small kindness, a small breath of peace, a long over-due massage can trigger a release. The stories I found especially beautiful are the ones where tears brought people together. The gay bookseller who explained to his long time customer that he had a husband, and crying that it was something he had to whisper and her regrets that she hadn’t been as brave. To the anonymous traveler who left a note on a person’s suitcase who had been having a moment - I hope you can remember that we are human, there is love. Reading about a young child who was absolutely destroyed by a maudlin song, and remembering my own version -“He Stopped Loving Her Today” by George Jones. A college acquaintance blurting out in small talk “my dad died a couple of weeks ago” to someone who had also just lost their father, and how they felt safe enough to cry together over a shared pain made more real.
Like the editor states, this isn’t meant to be a sad book, despite the title. It’s meant to be cathartic and helpful, to make you feel less weird for having big feelings (that maybe you weren’t taught how to handle) and less alone.
Each stand-alone entry is a quick read, most just a few paragraphs long. Like any collection of essays or short stories, there are some that are stronger than others. My only complaint is that I would rather have had fewer entries with more depth and analysis (or a point to be made) and culled a few of the more superficial or redundant view points.
November 8, 2024
Beautiful! I started reading it the day the election results came in, after I had just burst into spontaneous tears in the middle of the Chinese food buffet. The first piece of writing was from @nifmuhammad so I was just ruined within seconds. Not all the essays were devastating, actually none of them were. Everything was mostly liberating. I grew up a very sensitive kid, with parents who shamed crying (ugh so hard). So all these beautiful human stories appreciating the power and benefit of crying was so validating. Another great little bit is that a few of them covered some science/physiology/psychology of crying. (More validation). Some were about not being able to cry. Most were about things that made them cry: music, movies, life events, the spontaneity of crying during really random moments instead of the expected moment. It was just a brilliant compilation of so many wonderful people’s accounts. It’s edited so the collection is in alphabetical order by author, but I think I’ll keep it by my nightstand when I feel like I need a good cry and play a little roulette with it.
Want to read
July 26, 2023Doesn't sound like my usual taste, but the publisher reached out for a review because I enjoyed The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and it is in the same vein.
It's a topic I have been contemplating recently as studies and the antidotal evidence I've read, verify that as a man you can't cry in front of your partner. The very person you should be able to be broken in front of will forever see you as less. Then us men are given shit for being overly stoic, we replace the showing of emotion with seeing whether or not our motorcycles can do 140.
It's a topic I have been contemplating recently as studies and the antidotal evidence I've read, verify that as a man you can't cry in front of your partner. The very person you should be able to be broken in front of will forever see you as less. Then us men are given shit for being overly stoic, we replace the showing of emotion with seeing whether or not our motorcycles can do 140.
November 22, 2023
I enjoyed Sad Happens A Celebration of Tears. The book is a collection of essays that were thought provoking, introspective, and just the right length. I have been reading a few excerpts a day over the last week. I have been struck by the variety of contributors from so many diverse walks of life. My favorite so far is one by a reporter. She shared that people who have just been through awful situations tell her they are sorry they are crying when they talk to her.
The beautiful illustrations by Rose Lazar added so much to the book. I recommend Sad Happens.
I was given a copy through the #SimonBooksBuddy #freegift program and not required to write a positive review
The beautiful illustrations by Rose Lazar added so much to the book. I recommend Sad Happens.
I was given a copy through the #SimonBooksBuddy #freegift program and not required to write a positive review
July 6, 2023
Sad Happens is a giant collection of mostly short, revealing answers to a simple prompt: when was the last time you cried? Some familiar names in here (Matt Berninger (the National), Phoebe Bridgers, Lingua Ignota) and an overall very diverse collection of voices. It’s always welcome to see such a counterpoint to the over prevalence of vapid “alpha” posturing in the world today.
**I was given a copy of this book by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks to Simon & Schuster and Netgalley*
**I was given a copy of this book by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks to Simon & Schuster and Netgalley*
August 31, 2023
Interesting book about the ins and outs of crying. Ranging from authors to zookeepers to poets to radio hosts to musicians to comedians and everyone in between we learn the why they cry, last time they did, the memorable cry, the people who deal with others crying. There are happy and sad cries. There are appropriate and seemingly inappropriate times to cry. Places to and not to cry. Might seem dry but really is far from it. However, not something you can probably sit and binge read. Some trigger warnings.
February 12, 2024
I love crying, and I love hearing about other people talk about crying, but this collection of essays was so incredibly mid, save for a few favorites from people I admire (Helado Negro, Lala Lala, Jia Tolentino, IAN SWEET). There were a surprising number of essays that mentioned 9/11, The Lion King, and the Covid-19 pandemic, in a way that was so predictable and, I'm sorry, clichéd. I felt like the majority of these anecdotes were written with that tryhard mindset we used to write our college admissions essays. Sorry!
February 27, 2024
Due to the nature of my job I deal with tears ( and sadness ) on an almost daily basis, and as someone who has a great deal of a hard time crying lately, this book felt like a warm hug. It captures all the different types of crying: distraught, helpless, sad, overwhelmed, happy, angry, grief-stricken, and just... random crying. It's refreshing, and it was interesting getting to see a glimpse of so many different types of people coming together to share about the universal experience of tears and everything that comes with them.
June 29, 2025
woof. even though these essays appear in alphabetical order by author's last name, it really does make the most of its marquee names by then having hanif abdurraqib first, then following closely is matt berninger of the national. it's similar in tone, overall, from layout, to concept, to the collection edited and compiled by zosia mamet, My First Popsicle. but i guess even when those were uneven i was more charmed it. i was less charmed by this. a lot of the time it seemed like the authors of these short essays misunderstood the assignment, and many of them were a chore to get through.
February 20, 2024
“sorrow found me when I was young / sorrow waited, sorrow won” (the national). sad happens is about destigmatizing crying - the very act that signals an authentic and courageous human experience. cathartic, vulnerable, and surprisingly uplifting, the book shows that tears, too, can be cultivated into sights of joy and resistance. beautiful little read.
October 15, 2024
this was a lovely ode to crying. i love crying. i love humanity. this was full of both. i love that we are all human and although lives can be vastly different, even at a close range of distance and age (and all other categories), we all know what it's like to cry-- to have our overwhelm of feelings become apparent. really, really liked this volume.
June 25, 2024
I really like this concept, but I ultimately just found this very boring and mostly surface level. Most of the entries were too short to really get a good sense of what the contributor was going for. There were some that I felt hit the mark, but I felt they were few and far between.
Read
December 4, 2024Some of these are these quite lovely, but most read like lovely opening paragraphs to essays I wish the author had gone on to write. Brevity is the soul of wit, not the more complex emotions this collection tries to engage.
November 16, 2023
A series of short essays about sadness, as situations, and crying (in public). There is little explanation behind the situations or resolution afterwards.
November 18, 2023
As a massive fan of The National, I had to pick this up to read Matt’s essay.
January 6, 2024
This book had many hits, a few I didn’t fully connect with, but overall I feel it was made for me.
January 6, 2024
a phoebe bridgers essay? count me in!
January 16, 2024
I am reading this book slowly.
Each person has a different story. And, yes, some are happy tears.
We do need to cry for relief.
Each person has a different story. And, yes, some are happy tears.
We do need to cry for relief.
February 7, 2024
I believe so much in the healing power of tears. Motivating novel for the depressed like me-lol.
March 22, 2024
A lovely (and beautifully illustrated) collection that reminds us of our humanity. Hard to judge something so personal, varied, and honest.
March 22, 2024
Some of them really got me and were relatable, others were the opposite.
May 18, 2024
An almost happy reminder that everyone cries
June 8, 2024
Very evocative and touching. Nicely illustrated.
August 15, 2024
I come from criers. All kinds. Lots of space made here.
September 29, 2024
3.5 stars- nice hodgepodge of insights on sadness
Displaying 1 - 30 of 36 reviews