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Explore the history and cultural impact of a groundbreaking television show adored by old and new fans alike: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Over the course of its seven-year run, Buffy the Vampire Slayer cultivated a loyal fandom and featured a strong, complex female lead, at a time when such a character was a rarity. Evan Ross Katz explores the show’s cultural relevance through a book that is part oral history, part celebration, and part memoir of a personal fandom that has universal resonance still, decades later.

Katz—with the help of the show’s cast, creators, and crew—reveals that although Buffy contributed to important conversations about gender, sexuality, and feminism, it was not free of internal strife, controversy, and shortcomings. Men—both on screen and off—would taint the show’s reputation as a feminist masterpiece, and changing networks, amongst other factors, would drastically alter the show’s tone.

Katz addresses these issues and more, including interviews with stars Sarah Michelle Gellar, Charisma Carpenter, Emma Caulfield, Amber Benson, James Marsters, Anthony Stewart Head, Seth Green, Marc Blucas, Nicholas Brendon, Danny Strong, Tom Lenk, Bianca Lawson, Julie Benz, Clare Kramer, K. Todd Freeman, Sharon Ferguson; and writers Douglas Petrie, Jane Espenson, and Drew Z. Greenberg; as well as conversations with Buffy fanatics and friends of the cast including Stacey Abrams, Cynthia Erivo, Lee Pace, Claire Saffitz, Tavi Gevinson, and Selma Blair.

Into Every Generation a Slayer Is Born engages with the very notion of fandom, and the ways a show like Buffy can influence not only how we see the world but how we exist within it.

Pre-Prologue

Can I start off a book about Buffy the Vampire Slayer with an anecdote about the Pulitzer Prize–winning rock opera Rent? On the one hand, who’s going to stop me? On the other hand, must we? Verdict: We must. Rent made its Broadway debut in 1996, a year before Buffy premiered. The brainchild of composer/lyricist Jonathan Larson, it was hailed as groundbreaking from the outset for its depictions of queer people, the AIDS crisis, and the East Village arts scene, and as a result developed a cult following the likes of which were never before seen by a Broadway show. These Rentheads, as they came to be called, saw something in Rent that was bigger than just a Broadway musical. Rent became as much a lifestyle as a show.

Six years earlier, author Sarah Schulman published a novel called People in Trouble, based on a relationship she had with a married woman in the East Village during the advent of the AIDS crisis. Schulman alleged that the plot of her book and Larson’s musical are eerily similar, with one noticeable difference: Larson reinterpreted the love triangle present in Schulman’s novel, making the straight man the protagonist, whereas in Schulman’s version, he was the secondary character. This bothered Schulman for a number of obvious reasons. “At base, it’s the issue of taking authentic material made by people who don’t have rights, twisting it so they are secondary in their own life story, and thereby bringing it center stage in a mainstream piece that does not advocate for them.” She ultimately deemed it an “insidious but very American process.”

Why are we opening a book about Buffy by talking about a musical that had nothing to do with Buffy? Doubting me from the outset, I see you. Rent is a show that for many people allows them to feel seen for who they are or to gaze at a version of themselves that they longed to be. It was gay—really gay. It was sex-positive. It addressed the AIDS crisis in a substantive and meaningful way while dignifying storylines around drug addiction and homelessness. It no doubt changed lives by exposing a subculture to the masses and introducing it through the tools of empathy and catchy melodies. And if Schulman is to be believed, it’s also an example of one man seeking, gaining, and reaping credit for something that might not have been his, and something that may have caused great harm in its repurposing.

Buffy is not a direct parallel to Rent in this instance. Joss Whedon’s concept for Buffy, both the series and the character, were not, to the best of our knowledge, in any way stolen—albeit admittedly derived from the amalgamation of characters seen onscreen before her. But there is an undeniable parallel at play here in how we try to untangle the emotions wrapped up in how we viewed something at a particular moment in time—and the formative nature of these memories—with how we reexamine them through a new lens years, even decades, later. Buffy remains one of the best television series of all time to this day, period exclamation point. It’s also a much different show now, twenty-five years later, than it was when it premiered. Buffy didn’t so much break rules as create them. Much of the modern-day television landscape, particularly in the genre and teen space, is inspired by, grafted from, or, at minimum, a nod to the groundwork laid by Buffy.

It’s a fact: Buffy changed lives. It changed my life. It’s how I learned to quip. It gave me a sense of strength and certainty throughout a youth in which I often felt powerless; it even helped me come to terms with my sexuality. Perhaps you can relate.

It also ruined lives.

I set out to write a book about Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the historic and groundbreaking television series that altered and then reshaped the television landscape and, in its wake, created a phenomenon with a still-beating heart nearly twenty-five years after the series debuted as a midseason replacement on a fledgling network. This will not be that book. It will contain remnants of the book I set out to write. But as Catherine sings in the Stephen Schwartz musical Pippin, “things change; things change.”

So does context.

So with that, let the spell not be ended but, rather, recast.

Prologue

If you’re reading this, first of all hi, and probably, likely, or most certainly you’ve loved something with your whole heart. I just have a hunch. Not a person—that provides reciprocation potential—but more like a thing. Something you can give over your energy to in a way that feeds you and leads you to a deeper understanding of self or the world around you. Maybe it was hockey cards or Pokémon, Pogs or Tamagotchi, or maybe you’re among the tasteful set and it was Mandy Moore’s I Wanna Be with You album. Something that found you, undid you, rewired you, and so much more, before you ever had the know-how, let alone the nomenclature, to understand.

For all of my adult life, and the majority of my kid life, too, that thing was a show I bet you’re familiar with called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “That’s the one with the blond girl and the Dracula?” Yes, Nana, go to sleep.

There’s a reason we’re talking about Buffy twenty-five years after the show’s debut and not Veronica’s Closet. (Don’t get me wrong, I would love to write a book about Kathy Najimy’s criminally underrated portrayal of Olive Massery. But not here. And not now.) This longevity, in the form of regard and reverence, is not coincidental or happenstance. There’s a reason, a there there, if you will. It’s a reason we’ll explore in-depth, and from varying angles, with the goal of understanding why this show continues to transcend the medium. Why Buffy harnesses the rare ability to bring people, particularly those on the margins, closer together as a result.

But this book isn’t just for Buffy lovers. (Not to worry, y’all will be fed.) This book is a celebration of the culture vultures, those who do not like but who love. Some might know this mode of being as “stanning.” That term derives from the 2000 Eminem song “Stan,” which tells the story of the fictional Stanley “Stan” Mitchell, a man who claims to be Eminem’s biggest fan. He writes letters to Eminem and grows angry when he doesn’t hear back, ultimately being drawn to violence over his unrequited obsession. The term took on a life of its own afterward with many perceiving, perhaps by design, it to be a portmanteau of the words “stalked” and “fan.” Hyperbole gave way to irony, and the term reiterated over time to mean obsessed… in a good way. Stan armies were amassed online, and even artists themselves began acknowledging their stanbases. Lady Gaga and her Little Monsters. Beyoncé and her Beyhive. Rihanna and her Navy. Soon, one couldn’t just like a thing, they had to love it and be willing to defend their fav against the haters.

At first I could relate. I, too, love a thing. But then a meaninglessness started to percolate. In 2011, Britney Spears tweeted, “Does anyone think global warming is a good thing? I love Lady Gaga. I think she’s a really interesting artist.” More than 200K fans favorited this unintelligible non sequitur. “@tpa@y#m##@nyhn,” Oprah tweeted in March of 2014, generating thousands of Likes from fans for no discernible reason. When Lady Gaga tweeted the letter f in 2019, a quarter million people gave it a heart. Make it make sense. I couldn’t. Over time, standom gave way to unquestioning devotion and meritless defending. Rose-colored spectacles became the accessory du jour and suddenly to love something meant you could not question it, for to question it would put your love into question. To question it, you would be dubbed a “fake fan.”

That was never for me when it came to Buffy. I love the show but could never—and still can’t ever—wrap my head around Buffy’s love for Spike, a man who both stalked her and sexually assaulted her, or why my favorite characters (namely women) were constantly killed off for no good reason, or the enactment of the Bury Your Gays trope, the slut-shaming, the tokenism… you want me to go on? So yes, my fav is problematic. And therefore I do not stan blindly. I will not push that aside in examining the profound and lifelong impact this show has had on how I, and many others, exist and function within the world outside of the show. In that sense, there will be a lot of gray area: something blue and seeing red and all kinds of other strokes worth coloring in. And though there won’t be blood, there will be referencing.

From my POV, to love Buffy is to both contextualize and reexamine it. So that’s what we’re gonna do: something that’s one part oral history, including interviews with the cast and crew; one part critical analysis, examining the show for what it got right and when it missed the mark; and one part fan notes, giving voice to the show’s devotees who are the lifeblood of Buffy’s ongoing legacy.

And throughout we’ll be examining the problematic figurehead who created this show. I set out writing this book knowing we’d need to unpack several stories about Joss Whedon that had made the rounds over the years, including two big ones from August 2017 and July 2020 (we’ll get into both in detail). I had completed about half of the book’s interviews when a cavalcade of accusations came out of the Buffyverse, beginning with actor Charisma Carpenter and followed quickly in succession by actors Amber Benson and Michelle Trachtenberg. Their stories and allegations are nuanced, but the gist has a through line: this workplace, to some, felt unsafe. As a result, much of the way we, the fans, view this show is with the understanding that it seems to have caused a great amount of torment for many of those who worked on it. It’s not a coincidence that these stories come mainly from the women of Buffy. There were a number of interviews for this book that were confirmed and then canceled in the wake of the recent allegations against Whedon. There’s a more complete version of this book that I set out to write that was, at one time, within my grasp. Things change; things change. We’ll get into all of that in the most unflinching way I know how.

There’s a lyric in the Tears for Fears song “Mad World” that I keep coming back to: “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” Curt Smith presents that rather arresting concept as both “funny” and “sad.” And that’s how I understand the story of this show. Funny at times, sad at others, sometimes a little bit of both and in some instances a lot of bit of both.

One other important note before the train departs the station: I wasn’t there for any of this. I do not know conclusively, nor do you, what happened all those years ago. There’s been a lot of “he said,” hoping to add some more “she said,” but ultimately this is not my story to tell. I did my best to listen diligently, to ask follow-up questions, to source from as many people who were there as possible. And so I am telling a version of the story to the best of my ability.

And so we cannot begin this book, conceived as a celebration, without acknowledging the pain that some endured in making this series. This book is a tribute to the women of Buffy: the actors, the writers, the costumers, the stunt performers, the PAs, and every non-male on set or behind the scenes who helped make this show mean something. As Harmony once told Cordelia: “You reign.”

So put on a pair of your comfiest yummy sushi pajamas and let’s get it done.

CHAPTER 1 A Conversation with Stacey Abrams

Leader Abrams, what do you think it is about Buffy the Vampire Slayer that makes us not only love it some twenty-five years later but want to discuss and dissect it still?

Buffy centers on a young woman who is incredibly powerful in a supernatural sense, but we also have the opportunity to watch her grapple with the contours of power. What does it mean when you have the ability to do something no one else can and watch how that isolates you from others, but how it also draws people to you? One of the most fantastical relationships on the show is her relationship with Joyce, her mother, and watching her navigate the fact that one of the closest relationships she has is one where she cannot tell her mother the whole of who she is. And yet she has to continue to be embraced by and renewed by her mom. And so I think the complexity of that navigation of power, the intersections of who she is and who she wants to be, the friendships she builds, the friendships she loses, all of those pieces come together to be just this remarkable meditation on power and powerlessness in the same person.

I absolutely agree. I think the character of Joyce is particularly unique in how fleshed out she is and how much emotional complexity she has, especially for a teen show. They really made her more than just “the mom who never understands her wacky daughter’s teenage antics.” Let me ask about your origin story of how you first discovered the show. I believe you were in law school at the time…

I was. I lived in Atlanta for my internship, and I was staying with friends. They were out at an event, and I didn’t go out. So I turned on the TV and there was Buffy and I got hooked and became a faithful watcher from the very first episode.

And I believe you were already a fan of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s from All My Children…

Absolutely. She played Kendall Hart, and she was fantastic.

An Emmy-winning performance, no less. Had you ever seen anything quite like Buffy before?

I had seen the movie, which was… it was cute. But it was not my taste. And so I was surprised by how effectively they melded the ethos of a sort of Beverly Hills, 90210 or Dawson’s Creek, that sort of teen vibe, but muted it with this supernatural overlay. That’s what was so fascinating to me.

The show, especially when it first aired, tended to be looked down upon by a lot of folks, especially critics. Maybe it was the name, maybe it was the premise, the network, a combination. Did you ever receive any flak from friends, family, or other law students for not just liking, but it sounds like loving this show?

No, because my friends understand how much I love television and I never permitted denigration of good TV to enter my space. People that know me know that I love TV, and I don’t understand the point of being ashamed of good stories.

Was there a character who you immediately telegraphed your own experiences onto or who you really connected with?

Not exactly. I think the narrative arc of the story was exceptional and you can pick out different pieces that relate to your own experiences. One of the dynamic pieces of Buffy the Vampire Slayer was how it took very regular teenage and young-adult experiences and not only made them relatable to monsters and demons but also helped you contextualize your own experience. So it was less about individual characters and more about their experiences.

Agree. Is there an example of that that comes to mind?

So there’s the episode with Xander and his teacher and that notion of wanting to be liked even if it is [laughs] going to kill. The characters are so well drawn that there was a universality to each of their experiences that didn’t depend on gender or race or direct connection. It was, “Oh my God, I know what that feels like.” And that I think was the most important part of Buffy.

I just have to tip my hat to you for referencing Season 1, Episode 4. That is definitely a niche reference that I appreciate.

I could do this all day, I promise. When it comes to Buffy and Star Trek I’m a deep-cuts kind of person.

Do you have a favorite Big Bad? I tend to waffle between the Mayor and Glory.

The Mayor for me. The dichotomy between his old-fashioned persona, especially with the moment where he is, like, insisting that Faith drink her milk before she goes out to fight, and his courtliness, but also just the absolute carnage that he’s willing to wreak in order to hold on to power. I found it amusing and [chuckles] not that distant from some experiences that I’ve had. I’ve never worked with a mayor like that, but it was a Big Bad that wasn’t all bad. And I think that that’s what was so terrifyingly effective about him. He wasn’t just this evil marauder. He was someone who could be kind and thoughtful and assumed he was doing what was right, even if it meant killing everyone to do it, until of course he wanted to ascend to the absolute power, and we all know what happened there.

I particularly like the details the writers inserted about him caring about his job as mayor. He met with the Boy Scouts, spoke at a town vigil after two kids were murdered, and famously told Faith, “There’s nothing uncool about healthy teeth and bones.” In addition to, you know, all of his evildoing and mass murder.

Kendra the Vampire Slayer comes into the picture midway through Season 2. She is the first multi-episode Black character to appear on the show. I’ve spoken to Bianca Lawson, who played Kendra, for this book, as well as a number of Black female fans of the show who cited Kendra as a triumph for powerful Black female representation and a failure in how the show both depicted and treated her. How did you see Kendra?

At the time Kendra first appeared, I was just happy to see her exist. The reality is that as someone who has loved television since the first time that I got to watch it, you become accustomed to not seeing a direct representation of yourself. And it meant a great deal to see a Black Slayer. It was of course disappointing that her tenure was so short-lived, but at least the nod was there. And I see things from an arc of not only this being nearly twenty-five years ago but as a writer who faced challenges because my characters were Black, the industry resistance to that kind of multicultural approach, it was always going to be a mark against it. But I think it was an important moment in the show. And I still celebrate the work that she did.

You’ve spoken about your affection for Spike as Buffy’s true love…

I didn’t. I did not say that.

Oh my God! I apologize. Correct me, please.

I said Angel was her first love and the right person for her to love when she was coming into her power. She was with the right person. And I don’t believe in this notion that you are allowed to have only one true love. I think he was the absolute right person for Buffy as she was becoming the Slayer and, with the time they had together, was absolutely the right person. I think Spike was absolutely the right person when she became a powerful, independent woman on her own. And as somebody who actually watched every episode of Angel, I think the split was opportune and I think that the way they developed his character was also important, because he had to become someone else once he reconciled with his curse. And so I think that they actually did the right thing for Buffy, but I resist the notion that one was better. I think that at different parts of our lives we are different people. And for the person she was, Angel was absolutely the right person and for the person she became, Spike was absolutely the right person.

I’m wondering your thoughts on the in-between man, Riley, who was really pummeled by the fandom at the time. There was a lot of pushback to Riley on the show, especially given him coming in so soon after Buffy had parted ways with who many believed to be her soul mate. What were your thoughts on that character and his relationship with Buffy?

I liked Riley, but Riley was the rebound guy. And he was destined to be the rebound guy. You come after an epic love story like Angel and Buffy, you were there while she was in the beginning of college where she’s trying to figure out who she is in this new realm, and so I think Riley from the very beginning was a bridge relationship and he served that purpose well. Marc Blucas did a great job. It is a hard job too. I would say as an actor I think he did the best job possible of being someone who’s appealing, but not so iconic that his loss would devastate the show. And that is exactly what she needed. She needed someone who loved her before he knew everything about her and who was never her adversary. Everyone else, Angel and Spike, were her adversaries. He was someone who was just a guy who really cared about her. And that I think was important for her, and I always liked Riley.

I did too. I’m curious for your opinion on Buffy’s most controversial season, Season 6, which dealt with much more adult themes like addiction and sexual assault. Curious if you had any reaction to the tonal transition of the show that followed Buffy’s resurrection?

As a writer, I can appreciate how hard it is to take a story to that peak where she finally does die in a way that feels permanent and irrevocable, and when she comes back, darkness necessarily followed. And I think it was an important season. It was a hard season to watch; it can be an awkward and uncomfortable season to watch, and I think they did a fairly deft job of trying to navigate it. But when you literally lost everything and your return is not just a violation of the natural order but a destabilization of everything and everyone, that’s a perfect time to really start to think about what does it mean to be beyond the cocoon of college and ask what does it mean to really enter the world where there are no safety nets and where you’ve got to grapple with adulthood in all of this unapologetic goriness? And I think for a show that always tried to explore the dark themes using a deft hand with both humor and allegory, it was probably the best way to tell that story in that moment.

And speaking of goriness, Tara’s death is easily considered the show’s biggest mistake; even the creator has gone on record and said this. What was your reaction to Tara’s death?

It was tragic. She was so sweet. There’s no other way to think about it. She was the sweetest character. When you remember Tara’s beginning with her weird family, she deserved the happily ever after. And so to not only not get it but for her to be knocked out so remorselessly was sad and tragic.

And unnecessary.

People don’t really talk about the series finale very often within the canon of great episodes that get dissected. What are your thoughts about how the show ended?

I think it was one of the best series finales that I’ve seen. Those are hard to do. It is hard to end a story in a way that feels resonant and that meets the nature of the show. And when you remember how the show began, there was an irreverence to that ending where, yes, they win one more time, but they know it’s just temporary. And the best part of it is how remarkably reminiscent it is of those early Scooby moments where they were all hanging out in the library with a bemused Giles, and they’re sort of ready for the next thing to happen but hoping it won’t happen for a minute because they need to go home and change. That kind of moment was a perfect moment. And I juxtapose it with how they ended Angel, which was one of the best last lines of a show: “I’ve always wanted to fight a dragon.” Angel needed to go out in the middle of the battle; Buffy needed to have completed the battle and just be really exhausted and annoyed knowing that something else was going to come but she wants to go to the mall first.

The good ol’ Sunnydale Mall, where “the clerks are rude and everything in the food court is sticky.”

For someone who has never seen the show before, what would you say are the biggest reasons now, in 2022, to watch the show?

Buffy is clever. It’s fun. It has action, adventure, romance, and an endless well of sarcasm. And it’s just one of the best shows ever written and ever performed.

I love Sarah Michelle Gellar’s multifaceted and layered performance as Buffy. I think it is criminally underrated. What is it about her portrayal of the character of Buffy that you think takes this show from a nine to a ten?

I had the opportunity recently to do an event with Sarah Michelle Gellar, and that was just delightful. And it confirms what as a fan I’d always hoped to be true: She is someone who loves her craft but never takes herself more seriously than the role that she’s in. And that’s what we needed from Buffy. We needed someone who appreciated the story and understood that the story was the point—not Buffy, even though she was the titular character. Buffy was a vehicle for these amazing stories. And as an actress, whether she’s playing the calcitrant Kendall on All My Children or… I actually loved her in all of her movies too; she never forgets the joy of being able to tell these stories through acting. And she’s someone who appreciates the role and she respected who she was and what she was doing. And that comes through in every single scene, none more so than “The Body.”

(Spoiler Alert: “The Body” is Episode 16 of Season 5, in which Buffy finds her mother’s body lifeless, having suffered a brain aneurysm. While we’re here, let’s just address the fact that this book will unavoidably contain a lot of spoilers. For example: Buffy dies twice. See, I warned you!)

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One of Bustle's Best Books of March 2022
"Evan has produced the definitive feast for Buffy Buffs!"—Andy Cohen
"Evan Ross Katz has jumped into the world of Buffy in a way no one ever has before. I’m in awe of the way Evan loves Buffy, cares about Buffy, and writes about Buffy. Each chapter reignited my love for the show in a new kind of way. This book is a deep dive and a love letter and a brilliant reminder that a good piece of art can live on far past a series finale.” —Kiernan Shipka
“This incisive deep dive into Buffy the Vampire Slayer delves into the stories behind the groundbreaking television show. Evan Ross Katz, through an impressive array of interviews with the show’s cast, creators, crew, and notable self-proclaimed stans—Stacey Abrams is the first fan we hear from—explores the cultural impact of this beloved show without skirting away from its shortcomings. Katz lovingly and shrewdly unpacks the very meaning of fandom, Buffy’s long-lasting influence on its fans, pop culture, and academia. It is a perfect read for anyone interested in pop culture, and of course lovers of the ever-iconic Slayer.”—Oprah Daily
"As someone who didn't watch Buffy until meeting Evan, his fandom, understanding, and total embrace of the nuance and complexities of the show ravages this book, and turns a chambré viewer into a fangirl. His writing is fresh, and so are his perspectives—through reading, you contemplate the series through his eyes and discover new vantage points through anecdotes from those orbiting the Buffy universe. Not only is the show iconic, so is this author."—Christopher John Rogers
“Katz approaches the show’s cultural relevance and universal appeal with love and criticism, delivering an oral history that any staple of pop culture would be thankful to have…. [W]ell-researched…. Truly, no stone feels unturned.”—Paper Mag
“The first reported Buffy the Vampire Slayer book is a loving critique of a complicated show. Evan Ross Katz excavates Buffy's legacy—including the Joss Whedon allegations—through new interviews with the cast, crew, and fans like Stacey Abrams…. The show had hardly any characters of color, and fewer still that were fleshed out or appeared in more than a handful of episodes. Ross Katz’s book offers as much of a corrective as is possible all these years later, featuring interviews with Black supporting actors and guest stars like Bianca Lawson, who played the slayer Kendra in three episodes of the show….Into Every Generation doesn’t answer the question of whether it’s possible to separate the art from the artist, but it does love—and lovingly critique—the art without letting the artist off the hook.”—Jezebel
“In Evan Ross Katz’s Into Every Generation a Slayer Is Born, the show’s influence and legacy gets the in-depth exploration it so richly deserves."—Bustle
“Into Every Generation is a loving, comprehensive telling of the arc of the series, and well as a study into its glories and failures."—AV Club
“[A] tantalizing and thoroughly engaging tome….Though much has been written about the seminal show, fans who are wrestling with the fallout of Whedon's behavior will find new information here, along with a celebration of many significant ways Buffy the Vampire Slayer shaped the culture and provides solace and inspiration to many of its fans. A loving look at an influential show….[fans] will adore this accessible and juicy read.”—Booklist (starred)
“[An] entertaining debut… Katz movingly reflects [on] the show…. Still, he doesn’t shy away from problematic issues… sharply critiquing its lack of racial diversity as well as abuse allegations about its writer….Mixing keen cultural analysis, wit, and an obsessive’s zeal, this will have fans riveted.”—Publishers Weekly
“[Into Every Generation a Slayer Is Born] is entertaining, impassioned and carries Katz’s acute critical eye.”—CoolHunting.com
“A must-read for any Buffy fanatic."—TooFab
“We can’t emphasize enough how you need to get your hands on a copy….Dozens of heartwarming, heartbreaking & enlightening personal perspectives on their experiences during the shows' runs and the impact it continues to have on them today.”—BleedingCool.com
"Organized at first around the chronological progression from mediocre action flick to a season-by-season breakdown, the book is interspersed with asides and witticisms that entertain as well as bridge themes and interweave facts. The later section, about controversies and legacies, is approached with skill and empathy. Katz’s writing captures his own voice so well that his audiobook narration is pitch-perfect."
—Library Journal (audiobook review)

On Sale: Mar 15, 2022
Page Count: 288 pages
Publisher: Hachette Books
ISBN-13: 9780306826702

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Evan Ross Katz

About the Author

Evan Ross Katz is a writer, podcast host, and high-pitched loudmouth whose work has appeared in the pages of GQ, Harper’s Bazaar, Interview Magazine, Rolling Stone, Oprah Magazine, Teen Vogue, Town & Country and more. He is a fashion columnist at Paper Magazine, a contributor at The Cut, and host of the podcasts Shut Up Evan and Drop Your Buffs. He is best known as the world’s preeminent Sarah Michelle Gellar historian and a “die-hard Buffy aficionado,” according to Vogue, and for being blocked on Twitter by Kim Cattrall in 2017 (she has since unblocked). He was selected as one of Fast Company’s Most Creative People in Business 2021.

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CHAPTER 1

A Conversation with Stacey Abrams

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