Front Burner - Weekend Listen: Death, sex, money … and podcasting? (via Bookends)

Episode Date: October 4, 2025

When the book ends, the conversation begins. On Bookends, Mattea Roach speaks with writers who have something to say about their work, the world and our place in it. You’ll always walk away with big questions to ponder and new books to read.Bookends does not shy away from difficult conversations … and neither does Anna Sale, the host of the popular Slate podcast Death, Sex and Money. The show is all about diving into topics that get deep fast, and Anna expands on that promise in her book, Let’s Talk About Hard Things. In this special bonus episode, Anna joins Mattea to chat all about the book, podcasting and how her own outlook on tough topics has changed over the years. You can listen to Bookends wherever you get your podcasts, or here: https://link.mgln.ai/FB-Bookends

Of the seven great nations that make up the G7, it is Canada that imposes the highest taxes on beer. 46% of what Canadians pay for beer is government taxation. When the G7 leaders get together, I bet Canada doesn't brag about that. Enough is enough. Help stop automatic beer tax hikes. Go to hereforbeer.ca and ask yourself,

why does the best beer nation have the worst beer taxation? This is a CBC podcast. Hey everybody, it's Jamie. Today we have a bonus episode from another CBC podcast that we think you might like. Bookends is the CBC's literary podcast and it's hosted by Mateo Roach. Each week, they sit down for honest conversations with today's best authors to talk about their writing, their inspirations and their lives. And they don't shy away from tough conversations. That was especially true for their recent show.

with the writer and interviewer Anna Sayle. Anna hosts the beloved podcast, death, sex, and money. She also wrote a book called Let's Talk About Hard Things, which is essentially an extension of her podcast. Anna joined Mateo on bookends to dive into her show in her book. They talk about everything from pondering mortality to avoiding ATM fees and honing the skill of having difficult conversations.

Now, here's that conversation with Anna Sayle on bookends. Hey there, welcome to Bookends. I'm Matea Roach. The producers of Bookends and I often joke that it can be hard for us to get through recording an episode without either hearing about grief or sexuality. Sometimes we manage to actually cover both at the same time. If a book can spark a provocative and challenging conversation, usually we're all in. My guest today, Anna Sale, is all about having conversations that others might shy away from. Her long-running podcast, Death, Sex, and Money, grapples with all kinds of hot button and sometimes taboo topics. And Anna wrote a book drawing from that experience called Let's Talk About Hard Things.

It discusses what she's learned from years of hosting her show and from her own life. Anna joined me from her home in Berkeley for this conversation. Hi, Anna. Welcome to Bookends. Thank you for having me. So we were actually quite surprised and excited when your producers reached out to us and said that you'd listen to our show. And I'm curious what interested you in bookends, why you wanted to come on and chat with us? I don't know. Actually, honestly, let's see, I think it's probably been about the last 18 months. I've just decided that I, as far as what I let into my brain, I want it to be a lot more long-form writing and books and less short takes that are like arrows that pierce my amygdala and get me into fight or flight mode. So I've just been taking in more book podcast and book interview podcasts. And I like the pace and the thoughtfulness of just spending time in those water.

instead of in waters where I've spent maybe the 10 years before that, which is just like Twitter X internet commentary. Was there a specific thing that happened or a specific moment that you can point to where you realize this short form stuff is just not doing it for me anymore and I need to pivot away from consuming so much of that? I don't think it was one moment, but I think I noticed I don't know if you've experienced this as an interviewer, but there was like a period, probably like 2019 till 2020, before Twitter and X kind of began to recede from its dominant position in the culture, where I could hear the response of the public in my ears before I even asked a question. and I think it made me a less sophisticated interviewer, a less brave thinker.

I think I became more intolerant of ambiguity. I was constantly thinking, like, where do I stand and how am I positioning myself alongside or within this chorus that had become this sort of internet commentary? And so it just got really loud. and books are just more, books allow for a lot more complexity, you know. I don't agree with every book author I write. I read. I probably don't agree with everything I wrote in my book now that it's been a few years.

But I just like, I think it's better for my nervous system to spend time with longer paragraphs. I want to talk about your journey as an interviewer and your journey working on death, sex, and money before we circle back around. to your book, just because it's such a, you know, it's big words. It's big concepts. And these are things that, as you say, people often avoid discussing. I know before death, sex, and money, you were kind of a more conventional, like, newsy political reporter for a period of time. What inspired you to start a podcast that had those three subjects as your focus and move away from that political newsy type of journalism? I covered politics pretty exclusively from about 2010 till 2013 when I conceived of death, sex, and money and pitched it. And I was mostly covering kind of the perma campaigns.

So you had this contrast of candidates who said the most kind of focus grouped talking points ever that were not really saying anything. And then I would talk to another thing I really love to do. was just talk to people who were in different consequential districts and ask them, like, what's going on in your life? Do you feel like things are on the right track or the wrong track? And you would hear these really beautiful, detailed stories. And you could see the way people kind of opened up and flowered when somebody took three minutes to say, like, what's going on with you. And they were complicated, tough stories that people shared when I started with, like, I'm a public radio reporter covering the campaign and just want to know what's going on in your life.

And so I think that the origins of death, sex, and money were responding to that contrast. It was both a response to the artifice of what the politicians were saying, you know, what they were leaving out, the complexity that they refused to acknowledge. And I also wanted to give more time to the stories of people who I would have these incredible, you know, conversations. at a shopping mall with them, and I would use two or three 20-second clips from them to illustrate why polls were a certain way. And I was like, what if the point of what I'm making is to just spend time with someone's story as opposed to extracting an anecdote to then tell a story that's just about what political polls are doing that week? I want to ask now about the book, Let's Talk About Hard Things. Your book is divided into

five sections discussing how to have hard conversations about death, sex, and money as per the title of the podcast, but also family and identity. How did those come to be as the other two hard things that were going to be included as big chunks of the book? In my book proposal, I think there were like nine or ten chapters. Like friendship, work, you know, all these different things. And then it was like, Okay, what if I pair it back a little bit because it starts to get a little, you know, you don't want to, they sort of, the overlap is, it starts to get more overlapping. I mean, work and money, I think, for instance, like a lot of concerns about work are really concerns about money. Yes, and status. But family and identity felt particular in that family I sort of define as both, you know, the choices we make about the own families that we cultivate, but the families that were born into these relationships that we have.

had no choice in the matter. And then we have to figure out how we want to work at, how we want to try to evolve these relationships, what we want to accept about them, and how that can change over the course of a relationship. And identity just felt very like, you know, the way that you approach hard conversations is so, like, so dependent on how you feel oriented to the person you're talking with. And so much of that is how you think about who you are in relation to them and how you think you are perceived by them and how you are in fact perceived by them, which is all about identity. So that's how I came to those five. It's interesting you mentioned that there are memoir pieces in this book and you do

share quite openly about some tough conversations you've had to have over the course of your life. I'm curious though you acknowledge that you've not always been the best at openly discussing some of these subjects in your own life with your loved ones. Out of those five topics that you discuss and let's talk about hard things, is there one that you still find a bit thorny or that you find more of a struggle perhaps than some of the others? Oh, sure. I mean, let me say first, part of making this book, which I think when I look back at the process, what was probably the most incredible part relationally for me

was I just made a commitment to myself that anybody who in my life who I wrote about I've shared the pages with them and so that meant sharing pages with my parents sharing pages with my sister sharing pages with my ex-husband sharing pages with my current husband

and so that when you're doing that in the process of writing a memoir like it keeps you honest and it also makes you face the fact that you're not writing in a little hole that nobody's ever going to discover. You know, this is not a journal. This is a book that's going to be published.

And it's going to have consequences for my life and the lives of people I love. And so taking care with that process was really one of the scariest parts of it because, you know, I'm figuring out what I want to say about these relationships and these memories. and then I have to say, hey, what do you think about this? Do you think that I'm accurate? And also, do you, how do you feel about me writing about this publicly? I guess when I was writing the book, I think for me writing about money was very tricky. I just have a lot of, that's my particular suitcase of baggage that I carry around is how I feel about scarcity. And that's where I hook to feel safe is like.

am I doing enough to make sure that my savings account is tended to? And there's parts of that part of my personality that I just find odious and gross. But I've kind of loosened up around that now. And I think if I were writing the book now, as I've gotten older and we're more deep into middle age, just the reality of death. And it's not an abstract concept, but it's like people you love disappear off the face of the earth. I think that would feel more difficult now. That's interesting because it's not like in the book you don't have direct experience with death.

Like you talk about actually being at this family. I think it was it an anniversary celebration, I think, for some of your family members. Yeah, my grandparents. Yeah, your grandparents' anniversary. And then having, you know, a relative not one of your grandparents actually die at that celebration and everyone being around. Like that is a pretty intense experience to see. death up close like that. Why do you think in middle age now it's become harder to talk about death? I think so. And I was a, you know, I was a mid-teenager when that happened. And when I

think back on that experience, it was my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary and my great uncle had been having heart trouble. And he collapsed at the party. And the EMTs came at the party and CPR was performed at the party in front of his kids, you know, his entire extended family. We were all in the room watching. And then we all gathered together days later for his funeral. It was certainly a shock of, you know, this is an example of someone is here one moment and then not here. But more than that part of the memory, it is such a beautiful memory that this was a community and a family where the rituals around death and memorializing someone you love and how you gather and who brings the food and who cleans up the community hall and the

church after all of that was really they knew how to do it. And I think actually, you know, that's not how my life is organized now. That was in a farming community in North Carolina. If I were to drop dead today in Berkeley, California, I don't know where if there would be a memorial service for me, right? Like, I don't live in my community that I grew up in. I, you know, have plenty of friends here, but I have plenty of friends and loved ones elsewhere. You know, those kinds of things. Like, it actually, like, thinking about that memory makes me feel more anxious about being sort of cut off from pretty clear rituals around death. And I think that, you know, feeling yourself age and watching people you love age, I've watched people. I've watched people

I love since writing the book. You know, I've watched people who've lost some cognitive acuity and there's a certain, there's a grief to that. And then I've watched people who are very sharp right until their last breath and you can't believe the injustice that it's just their body is going to take them away from us when they are still so there. So I don't know. I think there's plenty of new things for me to feel find hard about death. Of the seven great nations that make up the G7, it is Canada that imposes the highest taxes on beer. 46% of what Canadians pay for beer is government taxation.

When the G7 leaders get together, I bet Canada doesn't brag about that. Enough is enough. Help stop automatic beer tax hikes. Go to HereFor Beer. and ask yourself, why does the best beer nation have the worst beer taxation? Why BDC for my business? The timing's right. Everything's in motion. Economy's changing. It's all about automation, AI. So I said to myself, take the plunge.

Yes, I need a loan, but I also need a hand from a partner who's truly working with me, helping me, no matter what comes next. Not later. Now. Get ready for what's next. With BDC, you get financing and advice adapted to your project. Discover how at BDC.ca.ca.com financing. BDC, financing, advising, know-how. You talk a lot in Let's Talk About Hard Things in the sort of family identity portion of things about being from West Virginia and moving away first to go to school and then later, you know, living in New York, now living in Berkeley. I've had kind of a similar experience of being from Halifax in Nova Scotia, but I've lived in Toronto my whole adult life. I feel very rooted in Nova Scotia still, even though all of my stuff, most of my friends are all here in Toronto. West Virginia seems to loom similarly large for you, I feel.

What is it about that place that makes it such a core part of your identity even after so many years away? Yeah, I grew up in West Virginia. My whole growing up, my family has all left. And I feel deeply rooted there. And I also feel so grateful for the sense of values that I was born with and raised in there. A lot around community, a lot around, I don't know, I don't know about what your community was like. But in West Virginia, there was a lot of, like, little words that you use that I find that don't come up in my life in fancy cities. Like an insult in junior high was you would call some.

somebody stuck up if they seemed like they weren't, you know, if they thought they were too good, you know. No, but that's not really an, that's not such an insult, I don't think, in the major urban centers. Right. And I really love that that was part of the judgment of people. It's like, this person doesn't know how to talk to everybody and doesn't try. And we think that that's bad, you know, because I agree with that. And so I feel very connected to that place and I root for it. And I think when I was writing this book, it was just, I just had my second kid. It was becoming more and more clear that the rest of my adult life was being built elsewhere. I wasn't going to go home and live in West Virginia. And so there's kind of like that hanging. It's kind of like picture like a potted plant and you just have these, you pull it out of the pot and you just have these roots kind of hanging in the air.

And I felt for a long time really like, ugh, like what does it mean? that I care about this place so much and I'm not there and I'm not putting my shoulder to the wheel there along with other people. And I've sort of softened on that a little bit. I actually think it's quite

important to have people in media organizations and in cities who understand smaller communities and who understand agricultural heritage who understand the building blocks of a small community and why something like divestment is as traumatic as it is.

So I've come to appreciate that both living in fancy cities and spending time in rural places is part of my life and not feeling like I have to choose so much. But it took a while. I know you grew up in Charleston, which is the capital of West Virginia. How big of a city center actually is that? Because a lot of what you're describing is sort of rural life, agricultural life. In Nova Scotia, there's a big difference, I would say,

culturally between Halifax, which is where I grew up and then rural communities or like my dad grew up in a mining town. My mom grew up in like a fishing village. So their experiences were totally different than mine. And I feel like I kind of have stolen valor a little bit if I talk about those communities. Yes. Oh, 100%. I have so much Appalachian stolen valor. I'm from like if you were to see what my life looked like when I was growing up in Charleston, it was. all the trappings of generic American suburbia. But I think that there is something about West Virginia, and I spend a lot of time now in rural Wyoming. My town growing up was about 50,000 people. And the town in Wyoming where I spend time now is about 10,000 people. So they're not teeny tiny. You know, they have big grocery stores.

But I do think even in those communities, there's a sense of like, just perspective, like you get it. And you get that feeling of what it feels like to be overlooked or casually derided by elite culture. You know, just, growing up in West Virginia, how often leaving the state you would have to remind people that you weren't from Virginia, like West Virginia was its own place. It's not the biggest deal in the world that people don't talk. about your state all the time. But when you are, when it's, you know, it creates a chip on your shoulder. And so when I had this very like traditionally suburban life, but I have the same chip as a lot of other West Virginians, there's a lot that we kind of come together around and feel like we celebrate together. You know, when we sing country roads together, like, you know, we are all West Virginia. It's a classic song. You talk about having this kind of almost chip on your shoulder, leaving West Virginia and coming into contact with people who were, let's say, maybe more stereotypically, coastal elite. And specifically, I know you went to college at Stanford, which is like one of the most different places you could go, I would say, from West Virginia, right?

What was that experience like? Was that complete culture shock? Did you find yourself having to shed pieces of yourself at all to navigate that environment? I just think I was 1819 when I showed up there and I did not understand the technology economy at all. It was I landed there right before the first.com crash. So there was no sense that there was ever going to be any kind of ceiling on possibility. And I didn't really understand why some of my classmates were talking about dropping out to start startups. And I remember being like, but wait, but what is your startup going to do?

Like, I just couldn't understand it. And I still don't really get it. But it was this mix of both feeling totally apart from this culture and trying to understand it. And also feeling just a thing about Stanford, like most fancy colleges, like the physical space is designed to create a sense of awe. So I also felt this sense of, oh, my God, this opportunity to be among all of these smart kids with this, the libraries, you could look up anything. And there were like six copies, you know, like. So I just, I felt this mix of, gosh, I feel so disoriented and don't really understand who I am in relation to this place and what I'm doing here. And also, I better figure out how to make the most of it. Yeah. You mentioned that money conversations in particular can be harder because people have a desire to relate to one another, but it becomes clear so quickly sometimes that there's just no relating across certain class differences. Is that something you've experienced at all in your life? I know you also talk about like being very comfortable perhaps talking about specific numbers in close conversation with friends or with people that work in the same industry as you, but not wanting. to invite kind of weird comparisons in public. Yeah, it's not necessarily even cross-class conversations

that can get difficult, but it's very difficult to track whether you share the same definitions as somebody else when you're starting a conversation about money. Like I think about showing up at Stanford and I remember there was like one of those ice breakers and it was you're supposed to walk across the line if you were one of the people. And it was something like you come from a rich family was the thing.

And in my memory, my dad was a doctor, a surgeon in West Virginia. So in my whole growing up, the whole thing that my parent, like, I knew I was a rich kid in West Virginia. So I like march across the room. And then I look around and I'm like one of, like I can't remember if there was like one or two other people. And I turned and I looked at all. these people from my dorm who I knew had very fancy families in very fancy places and had gone to private schools in Southern California and da-da-da-da-da. But because they grew up, you know, in proximity to Beverly Hills, they didn't self-identify as rich because there was always a richer

family, right? And so I was just like, whoa, this is weird. And so when I was thinking about the money chapter, yeah, like it's so tricky when you, I can remember being an early parent, Like my kid, my first-time parent, and when you have become a first-time parent and you don't live in your family, you are inundated with the harsh reality of whatever your housing costs are at plus child care costs. And when I was becoming a first-time parent, I was also moving to the Bay Area, going back to work in four months, and had to figure out who was going to take care of this infant when I went back to work. And so you start kind of like kind of talking to other sort of older moms. moms around you. Like, how did you do it? How did you pay for? Then you just talk to like moms at the playground. How do you pay for child care? That kind of thing. And there's, you know, coded, oh, well, we did a nanny. So then you're like, okay, that person has money for nanny.

We did we did daycare in this way that we did on campus, you know, childcare. So there's all these ways you're sort of figuring out the puzzle of like, are they like me and can we compare notes? And if I tell them what I'm able to afford at this point, is it going to be going to make our relationship feel less close because one of us will feel embarrassed. So there's all these like landmines while you're trying to make very concrete decisions about how much is it going to cost for me to have childcare, right? So it just you have the puzzle, the problem solving piece, and then you have all the emotional piece and the relational stuff that you're trying to like wade through. So I think that one thing that when I was writing that chapter that I really kind of kept coming back to is like when

you talk about money, you have to start so far back in the like definition of terms is like, what do I think money is for? Is money for creating more ease in my life as I like go back to work as a first time parent? Or is money for creating this sense of stability? So I want to get the best value I possibly can't. Like there's really different answers to those questions depending on how you define what money is for. And so you got to figure out for yourself. Then you've got to figure it out if you've got a partner you're making money decisions with, and then you sort of go about that awkward, you know, dance of figuring out who in your life, who's a friend or a colleague, that you can talk openly about it. Has that answer as to what money is for changed for you at all over the

course of your life? I feel like you talk about money vigilance as an orientation to money in your book, and that was something that when I read it, I was like, oh, that's me. I have been described as having Scrooge-like tendencies around money, which is crazy because I am in a position where everyone kind of knows how much money I have because I want it on a game show. So there's no pretending like I can't afford stuff. Like I'll have friends making fun of me because I won't go to an ATM where I have to pay a feel, like walk an extra kilometer to go to my bank's ATM. And they're like, now I know the $1.75 is not going to bankrupt you. Why are you doing this? So I know you talk about having been very vigilant towards money.

It sounds as though there may have been somewhat of a shift over time. I don't know. Yeah, I think it's partially getting more money. That helps. Getting more money because then it feels a little less, like, scary. Also, being in relationship with somebody for whom, like, my husband loves beauty and good food. So he's all about like investing in a nice house plan. He's all about like getting the right kind of tomatoes from the farmer's market, whereas like I would just go to Safeway and get like the

not good tomatoes even in Berkeley, right? And so he's taught me that like there could be a real pleasure in spending a little more money than you have to. I was programmed with like if I spend more money than I have to, then somehow somebody is taking advantage of me. It's kind of this like self-protection thing like I don't want to be had like that and I've kind of loosened I'm just like is it worth the extra effort to walk that extra block like sometimes it is and sometimes it's like who cares you know and and I've also really come to cultivate intentionally the joy of generosity you know like I really have gotten into hosting at my house and like serving people good food and having good wine and like past versions of me would be very aware and like, we could just order pizza

and it would be, you know, I'd be very aware of like being afraid that I was being indulgent or wasteful. And now I like, it's like, oh, this is so nice to get to do this for people, you know, it feels good. So that has made me more relaxed. But I have two kids and I, they have very different personalities around money. Some of this is taught, of course, but some of it is ingrained around what your relationship is to kind of control. So I am trying to teach my kids. Like, it feels good, it feels good to share. Interesting.

And so they have different relationships with that, I guess, by the sense of it. Like, what are the sort of compare contrast of the two kids' relationships with these concepts? Well, like, I have one child who if she knows that there's like a stack of cookies on the counter and her sister isn't home, she'll be like, I'm going to eat all four cookies and not tell the other one. Whereas the other child will be like, oh, we'll get to save some to give her when she gets home. Right. Right. This is like, I, yeah, love to live with a sibling. However, I do feel like I live with a cookie eater or beer drinker. Like, sometimes I'll come home and I'm like, now where's, where's my treat that I was looking forward to at the end

of the workday? And he's like, whoops. Cookie eater, beer drinker. Man. Yeah, yeah. But, you know, I mean, I don't know how old your kids are. Like at this point, my brother and I were both in our 20s, right? Like, I've had many years to learn that that is something to expect and watch out for. So it's not as upsetting as it might have been in the cookie eater only years. Yes. You crossed my boundary. Yeah, yeah. Those were my cookies. Oh, my God. I remember one time, actually, we were both home for the holidays and I had taken leftover Chinese food out of the fridge and then like walked away to go grab something else. And then while I was away from the kitchen, he was like, well, I figured because you walked away,

actually, you weren't going to eat it. So actually, I heated it up and ate all of it immediately. Oh, I was mad. I was so mad. You should have been mad. I was so mad. You should hang on to that. It was old that grudge. No, exactly. Yeah, I'll throw, I'll throw that one out. If I ever take anything of his out of the fridge, I'll be like, remember when in an act of egregious thievery? You took my Chinese leftovers? I want to, you know, you mentioned a couple of times throughout the course of our conversation with let's talk about hard things. There are some things that maybe now a couple years on from writing the book you might do differently. How do you feel looking back at this work that contains so many personal pieces of you, so many stories of people that you're close to and

care about. How do you feel about it all? When I think about what it felt like to write the book, I remember feeling a lot of heaviness and self-doubt and fear. Like, it was actually hard writing about hard things. It was just like, am I going to get this right? What do I know? Death, sex, and money, family identity. Every single book ever is about one of those themes and then some. What do I have to say?

So I just remember feeling a real, um, just heaviness. And when I look back at it, I feel really proud and happy that I have this record of at that time in my life when basically I, like, captured the snapshot of, you know, I had the great fortune of having, um, landing on something that was working where my talents and my opportunities were lined up career wise. So that was really great. And it gave me a lot of, it gave me some room to run. And also at the time that I was writing this, I was figuring out how to be a wife and a mother. And so I was trying to distill what are my values about how I want to live in relationship and as a partner and as a parent. And certainly those things kind of adjust as I change, as what history demands of us change. But I feel really glad to have this kind of like time capsule of that moment.

And I guess when I think about what has changed since then, since I wrote it, I do think, you know, the title is let's talk about hard things. And I do think like I still endorse that as a concept. And part of the thesis of the book is it's because so much around our rituals and kind of ways of dealing with hard things without. having to talk about it. So much of that is sort of collapsing as U.S. and maybe to a lesser extent, but probably also Canadian culture. Like it's all, it's become much more about the individual over the course of my lifetime because of the ways that capitalism has accelerated because of the ways that, how communities have changed, how institutions have faltered. And so the argument for the book is like, if more of that is on our shoulders to figure out how to

lead on our own, like we have to figure out how to participate in those conversations and not flee from them because we need them. And I still believe that. I think what has evolved is maybe in my own life, I notice there's probably more instances now where I choose tenderness and letting go than like, let's figure this out kind of energy, you know? So I think I might talk about hard things slightly less frequently because we're all doing our best and there's a lot coming at us. And so I probably just have a little bit more want to lead with grace a little bit more than maybe I thought. There's a lot that you can't just solve with conversations. And there's a lot, there's probably more than I acknowledge of just, sometimes we just need to figure out how to hold each other and let each other be where we are.

That's beautiful, more difficult, you know, to do than perhaps to say for sure, but something to aspire to. I think the person who wrote this book, the part of my personality that was the most at the four was kind of the one with like, you know, looking really, my eyes are like squinched and I'm like listening really. closely and I'm taking notes and really trying to understand and document. And I think the part of me that's like I've tried to let lead a little bit more is maybe like my middle-aged Berkeley mom and linen clothing kind of just like, it's all right, you know. Maybe it was the moving to Berkeley. I don't know. This is not a very New York energy, I would say, neither a very West Virginia energy. I don't know where she lives, but I think it has to do with turning 45. It's just kind of like, Oh, we're trying our best.

And there's a lot coming at us. Something for me to look forward to, I suppose, 20 years in the future. I don't know how I'm going to make it that far before chilling out. Anna, thank you so much for joining me today. It's been such a pleasure talking with you. And I feel like I've learned a lot from listening to your interview. So this is really cool for me, too. Thank you for having me.

It's nice. I really enjoyed speaking with Anna, podcaster to podcaster, you can tell she knows Ball. And she's so thoughtful about her craft. I feel like I learn a lot from listening to her interviews and learned a lot from chatting with her. Anna Sale is the author of Let's Talk About Hard Things, and you can listen to her show, Death, Sex, and Money, wherever you get your podcasts. This week's episode was produced by Talia Cleot. Ili Amamoto is our associate producer. Our senior producer is Jacqueline Kirk and our executive producer is Aaron Balser.

Special thanks to Katie Redford, Tanya Springer, Kelsey Cueva, and Amanda Cox. And of course, shout out to our audio tech, Arronday Williams, and the rest of the CBC Books team. I'm Matea Roach, and this is Bookends. Very exciting news in the world of Bookends. We are back for season two this weekend. Don't forget to hit the follow button so you won't miss any of the amazing authors we have coming up on the show. No spoilers, but you really won't want to miss any of these conversations. And in the meantime, well, you're already in your podcast app.

Why not check out our backlist from season one? Thanks for listening and I'll see you next time. Because when the book ends, the conversation begins. You just heard an episode of bookends hosted by Matea Roach. You can find and follow bookends wherever you get your podcasts. For more CBC podcasts, go to cbc.ca.ca slash podcasts.