In this funny, insightful memoir, a young socialite risks social suicide when she takes a job at a legendary funeral chapel on New York City’s Upper East Side. Good Mourning offers a behind-the-scenes look at one of the most famous funeral homes in the country—where not even big money can protect you from the universal experience of grieving. It’s Gossip Girl meets Six Feet Under , told from the unique perspective of a fashionista turned funeral planner. Elizabeth Meyer stumbled upon a career in the midst of planning her own father’s funeral, which she turned into an upbeat party with Rolling Stones music, thousands of dollars worth of her mother’s favorite flowers, and a personalized eulogy. Starting out as a receptionist, Meyer quickly found she had a knack for helping people cope with their grief, as well as creating fitting send-offs for some of the city’s most high-powered residents. Meyer has seen it all: two women who found out their deceased husband (yes, singular) was living a double life, a famous corpse with a missing brain, and funerals that cost more than most weddings. By turns illuminating, emotional, and darkly humorous, Good Mourning is a lesson in how the human heart grieves and grows—whether you’re wearing this season’s couture or drug-store flip-flops. “If Carrie Bradshaw worked in a funeral home à la Six Feet Under , her story would look something like Meyer’s charming memoir about her tenure planning funerals.” ( Publishers Weekly, starred review ) "A sweet, touching, and funny read. Meyer is truly likable, a great storyteller... A lighthearted, moving glimpse into the almost beyond.” ( Booklist ) “Still grieving her dad’s death, Meyer got a job at a famed NYC funeral home (of all places). Oddly enough, as she charmingly reveals, it helped her heal.” ( Good Housekeeping ) “A page-turning memoir about what goes on behind the scenes at the funeral home where anyone who's anyone in New York goes to be embalmed.” ( Town & Country ) "A behind-the-scenes look into one of the most legendary funeral homes in the country." ( Cosmopolitan ) “Valuable lessons about living from the death industry.” ( USA Today ) “Meyer’s post-college stint at a Manhattan funeral parlor yielded a memoir that’s both funny and touching.” ( People ) "Meyer's new memoir, Good Mourning , is a hilarious and often poignant look at her time at Crawford and her life in the aftermath of her father's death." ( Bustle ) “[A] fast, funny memoir… Good Mourning makes perfect, macabre reading.” ( New York Post ) “A lighthearted and poignant account of a job we’ve always found morbidly fascinating. It’s also a reminder: Sometimes the silliest send-offs are the most fitting… and the ones that truly help us heal.” ( PureWow ) Elizabeth Meyer became passionate about making death a less taboo and scary topic. She holds a bachelor of arts from New York University’s Gallatin School, an MBA from Cass Business School in London, a certification in thanatology from the Association for Death Education and Counseling, and is a licensed funeral director. Elizabeth regularly contributes to news articles, speaks on nationally syndicated radio programs, and has given guest lectures about death and dying. Currently, she advises private clients and consults for a website that deals with end-of-life issues. Elizabeth was raised and currently resides in New York City. Caitlin Moscatello is a writer and editor, whose work has appeared in Glamour , Marie Claire , O, The Oprah Magazine , SELF , Redbook , Fast Company , Sports Illustrated , and other publications. She lives in Manhattan. Good Mourning ONE It Starts with an Ending You know that feeling when someone tells you bad news, and for a second, it’s like you’re watching someone else’s life happen to your life? And then, after you’ve had a moment to absorb it all, there’s this moment of panic. You realize you can’t fast-forward to the happy scene where all the characters break out in a dance or clink their glasses of wine together over a table because Whew, thank God that’s over. Now somebody roll the freaking credits. That’s how I felt when my dad, whom the rest of the world knew as Brett Meyer, told me he had cancer. If my life had a soundtrack, the music would have stopped in that moment. My dad? Cancer? Impossible. That’s not my movie—at least, I was naïve enough to think it wasn’t when I was sixteen. Up until then, my life had been about ski vacations to Vail, weekend trips to Palm Beach, and partying with my best friend, Gaby. Know where we had our Sweet Sixteen? At a club in New York’s hip Meatpacking District. It was total excess: bamboo invitations to three hundred friends, Mark Ronson at the turntables, a gaggle of models circling around the dance floor. Gaby and I spent half the night sneaking Long Island Iced Teas and cosmopolitans into the bathroom (those seemed cool to drink at the time) and the other half grinding up against prep-school boys