Brenda Janowitz talks to Club Calvi about her new YA book "The Introvert's Guide to Kissing in Europe"
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Club Calvi has a new book from an author familiar to readers that will have you imagining you are traveling through Europe and remembering your first love.
Brenda Janowitz wrote the 2023 Club Calvi Readers' Choice "The Audrey Hepburn Estate." She talked with Mary Calvi about the recent publication of her first book for young adults, "The Introvert's Guide to Kissing in Europe." You can listen to their entire conversation on the Club Calvi podcast.
Mary asked Janowitz about her research for the book, saying it must have been wonderful.
"It was so much fun,"Janowitz said. "The book is really based on my own study abroad experience from back when I was in college and I studied abroad in Spain. For me, that was a good landing point and that's why the book begins in Spain. Then the research sort of took over because I was in Spain a really long time ago and I traveled Europe a really long time ago. I got to revisit all of those places thinking about what I would have wanted to do as a teen, and if I were off on my gap year, all the different adventures I'd have. It was fun researching the places, the foods, the smells, the sights. It was just all so delicious."
"The Introvert's Guide to Kissing in Europe" is about a teenager named Emily from Long Island. She tries to be perfect. She's valedictorian of her high school class and spends her time buried in books instead of at parties. Janowitz said she is also that way.
"I think it's because, as authors people assume that you are naturally extroverted because you can turn it on. But for me, I'm sort of an extroverted introvert. In creating this character, I based it on who I was then and a little who I am now," she said. "You can put yourself out there, then retreat back into yourself. I think being quiet can be safe. Trying to be perfect can be safe. But these adventures are so important and they are a big part of finding yourself."
Mary remarked that many of Janowitz's books also have heavy subject matters. In this book, Emily was supposed to go on the trip to Europe with her sister. But the sister died a few years prior.
"I think the way I write books is the way I approach life," Janowitz said. "I try to keep things light and fun, but inevitably life happens. And I think the darker moments are a part of life."
Mary asked about the title of the book, saying there's a lot of kissing too.
"I think a big part of these journeys, finding yourself, finding love, it was really important to me to show those feelings of first love," Janowitz responded. "That was a really fun part of the book, tapping into what that first kiss was like. Meeting people when you are not fully formed, when you are still trying to figure out who you are. You are falling in love, falling out of love, getting your heart broken. And having all of these first kisses in different cities all across Europe."
You can read an excerpt from "The Introvert's Guide to Kissing In Europe" and get the book below.
Club Calvi books may contain adult themes.
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"The Introvert's Guide to Kissing In Europe"
From the publisher: Everything in Emily Tannenbaum's life is going according to plan. Graduate high school as valedictorian? Check. Gain admission to Dartmouth? Check. Decide to pause everything to embark on a gap year adventure abroad? Wait, what?
Ever since her sister died, Emily has done everything in her power to be the good girl, the safe girl, the one her parents don't have to worry about. She's worked hard, she's studied, she's attended school-approved functions.
But when her grandmother, a former member of the famous Flower Sisters music duo, proposes that Emily take time off to follow the European tour the Flower Sisters took in 1966, Emily impulsively jumps at the chance as a way to embrace the messy and unexpected parts of life.
As she travels from Spain to Sweden with stops in Paris and Rome along the way, Emily begins to experience all that life has to offer. She deals with pickpockets, dances the night away, has her heart broken, and learns more about herself and where she came from than she ever could have imagined.
Brenda Janowitz lives in New York.
"The Introvert's Guide to Kissing in Europe" by Brenda Janowitz (Thriftbooks) $16
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Excerpt: "The Introvert's Guide to Kissing in Europe" by Brenda Janowitz
My phone buzzed—Grandma Rose on FaceTime.
"Tell me everything," she said.
"Um . . ."
"That bad already?"
"No," I said, not wanting to seem ungrateful. After all, the gap year was her idea, and the airline miles it took to fly me here were hers, too. "It's wonderful. The flight over was great, and the hotel is completely gorgeous."
"Did you stay up all day to try to get yourself on Madrid time?"
"Um . . ."
"So, no," she said, laughter in her voice. "But now it looks like you're at some fabulous Spanish restaurant where you'll no doubt meet a sexy stranger to help you practice your Spanish?"
"Um . . ."
"Okay, I get it," she said, nodding. "You need to ease your way in. Nothing wrong with that."
"I can't understand anything anyone is saying," I blurted out, "and no one can understand me."
Grandma Rose laughed. "I toured the entire world four times, and I never spoke another language as well as you do. Give it time, and when all else fails, just flirt your way through."
The edges of my mouth turned up. Grandmotherly advice at its finest.
You see, my Grandma Rose isn't like other grandmothers. She doesn't bake cookies, she can't sew, and she doesn't do Early Bird specials. When we go for dinner, she takes me into the city for a "fabulous evening" (her words) of "delectable treats" (also her words), "unexpected adventures" (yup, still her words), and "thrilling conversation" (I think you get the pattern here).
And yes, she really talks that way.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a grandmother more like my best friend Amelia's. A "grandmother" grandmother. Like the ones you see on commercials. Amelia's grandmother knits a new sweater for her every fall. Amelia's grandmother's house always smells like garlic and onions being roasted, and sometimes freshly baked bread. Amelia's grandmother's house has floors that creak, lived-in couches that tell stories about Amelia's childhood, and a cookie jar in the kitchen that's somehow always full. And she gives great hugs.
My grandmother lives in a sleek, modern high rise right on the boardwalk in Long Beach with a wraparound balcony and a view of the ocean. She re-decorates every three years, and she doesn't knit me sweaters. (Though she does love taking me into Manhattan for back-to-school shopping every fall.) She doesn't eat sugar or carbs, her best friends are two married gay men, and her condo smells like Chanel No. 5.
In her defense, she gives great hugs, too.
But sometimes I feel like I can never quite measure up. Not in the way my sister, Liv, did. Grandma Rose and Liv always has this special bond—from their love of singing and the stage to their matching heart-shaped faces and deep blue eyes, to their overwhelming confidence that seemed to come so naturally for them but was non-existent for me.
"Liv was the flirt, not me," I told my grandmother.
She sighed. "Oh, sweetheart, I know that when I first came up with the idea of sending you to Europe to re-create the itinerary of my 1966 Paris album tour, we talked about you doing it with Liv, when you graduated high school and she graduated college, as a joint graduation gift. Ever since you two were little, I had planned to send you two to Europe. It's what we always talked about. You know, if… Well, if she hadn't…"
Grandma Rose looked down as she left her words hanging. But I didn't need her to finish the sentence. I knew what she was going to say next: If your sister hadn't died.
"But she did," I said quietly. I took a deep breath.
With tears in her eyes, Grandma Rose said, "I know, my darling. I know."
"I wish she was here."
"I do, too," Grandma Rose said. "Of course, the offer still stands. Just say the word and I'll be on the next flight out, ready to join you."
"I think I should do this on my own," I said, not even convinced of it as I said the words.
"I think you should, too. And I think it's going to be fabulous. Call me if you need me."
I was determined to do it on my own. Sure, things had changed, but the idea of re-creating my grandmother's famous tour was simply too enticing to pass up.
The Paris album was made in 1966. To this day, it funds my grandmother's lifestyle. (And truth be told, it funds part of ours, too.) Its songs—which my grandmother and Dahlia jointly wrote—have been used in two major motion pictures, six different TV shows, and have been sampled by three different rappers.
And it was during the recording of that album that my grandmother fell in love. A head over heels, crazy-insane sort of love. The type that burns so brightly that it could never last, despite how badly they'd both wanted it to. The type that was never replicated in her life again. (Apologies, Grandpa Harold.)
A server came over to my table, so I hung up my call and ordered a short stack of pancakes. Pancakes were the first food that Liv ever learned to cook on her own, and she would make them for me whenever I asked. Even after she taught me to make them (her secret was adding a sprinkle of nutmeg), I was convinced that the ones she made tasted better.
After ordering, my phone dinged with a text from my mom on the family group chat. My parents were the tiniest bit—how do I put this gently?—overprotective. But how could they not be, given what they'd gone through? So, I always did the right thing. I had to. What choice did I have? Ever since losing Liv, I've known how important my role in the family is. I'm the good one. My parents don't have to worry—they'll never lose me like they lost Liv. I'm the consummate good girl.
Mom: settling in okay?
Me: Everything's great!
Dad: That's great!
Mom: Love you! Miss you!
Me: Love you miss you
Typing miss you made my eyes tear up, so I clicked over to @pennyforyourthoughts' page. There was a picture with Penny in the center of the frame, her fingers up in a peace sign, and she's surrounded by people.
Today's tip: Make new friends, but keep the old.
I went to my best friend Amelia's page. She posted her college move-in day. It looked equal parts fun and overwhelming. I liked it and then commented with four hearts. She immediately responded with four hearts of her own and then she DM'd me.
Amelia: Sooooooo?
Me: So far, so good. Sort of.
Amelia: Sort of is right. College is great, but scary
Me: Europe too.
Amelia: We've got this.
Amelia's right. We've got this. I may have had a rocky start, but my gap year is going to be great. I look at my phone again, only to find that I had 10 percent battery left. Maybe I don't got this? I silently cursed myself for not charging my phone when I had the chance, in the hotel room (those backpacks are packed tight!). I needed to befriend someone who had a charger, stat.
Looking around the bar, I saw a redhead unplugging her phone from a charger. Without thinking, I immediately rushed over to ask if I could use her charger next. This must be the first stages of jet lag, because I never act without overthinking, and I never (ever) approach strangers.
When she spun around to face me, it was like time momentarily stopped. She was the living embodiment of an boomerang video as her red hair spilled over her shoulders, as if in slow motion. I was momentarily stunned, and even more so when I realized that she was someone I knew.
Well, not knew knew. It would be more precise to say that I knew of her. With her long red hair and bright blue eyes, there was no mistaking her—she was @pennyforyourthoughts, my favorite influencer.
I would play this cool, nonchalant. After all, they always say that celebrities want to be treated just like regular people.
"Ohmygodyoure@pennyforyourthoughts," I said in a jumble. So much for playing it cool.
"Hi, nice to meet you," she said, with a wide smile. "Yes, I'm Penny."
"I love you," I said. What in the world?! "I mean, I follow you and you have great content."
"That's so sweet!" she replied. "Thank you for following me."
"You are so welcome," I said. "Would you mind if I borrowed your charger?"
"I thought you said you loved my account," she said, with a sly smile on her lips. "If you really followed me, you'd know that the most important item in your bag is always your charger."
"And a water bottle," I chimed in. "I totally don't have that, either."
Penny laughed. Her laughter was absolutely infectious, and I laughed back.
"I really do follow you," I said. "This whole day has been a disaster, though. And I didn't unpack a thing—my backpack is packed way too tightly! But that's the least of my concerns. I thought I spoke perfect Spanish, and doing Spain on my own would be a breeze, but it turns out I don't and it won't. The guy at my hotel thought that I was so American that he sent me here. No offense."
"None taken," Penny said, still smiling widely. Penny had a beauty mark on her left cheek that I'd never noticed.
"I'm rambling, I'm sorry," I said. "And here you are, with it all figured out."
"I didn't always," she said, shrugging. "And I don't necessarily. How long have you been in Madrid?"
"Today's my first day."
"It's our first day in Madrid, too!" Penny said. "I've been with this group of people for almost two months now, but we just got to Madrid."
"It's my first day in Europe," I clarified.
"Your first day?" she asked incredulously. "Then you absolutely, positively must give yourself a break. You just got started!"
I didn't respond, because she was right. I never gave myself a break. I didn't really know how to. That was how I became valedictorian of my class. That was how I got into Dartmouth. But maybe that was why I'd impulsively decided to come here? Break the old patterns, learn some new ones. "Yeah. I did just get started."
"Everyone knows that the best way to master a foreign language is to go out and party," Penny said. "A group of us are going to hit the bars after we eat. You up for some fun?"
Excerpted from "The Introvert's Guide to Kissing in Europe by Brenda Janowitz.Copyright © 2026 by Brenda Janowitz. Reprinted with permission from Melissa De La Cruz Studio, Hyperion.