I Couldn’t Keep It at Three: Louder at 50 Is Coming

Listen, I tried. I really did. I said the Living at 50 series was going to be a neat little trilogy—three books, tied up with a bow, like a polite gay man who thinks he’s organized until you see his junk drawer.

But let’s be real: me? Organized? Contained? Nah. Turns out, life at 50 just refuses to fit into three books. Every time I thought I’d finished, I kept getting louder. And if you’ve known me longer than five minutes, you know “loud” is not just a personality trait—it’s a survival tactic, a love language, and occasionally, a noise complaint.

So here we are:

• Rebooted at 50 – the starter pack. Midlife crisis but make it queer, self-aware, and funny.

• Tapping at 50 – swiping right, swiping left, swiping my sanity.

• Unapologetic at 50 – where I basically said “sorry, not sorry” and then doubled down on not being sorry.

• And now: Louder at 50. Because the volume knob only goes up.

This fourth book is the one where I stop trying to be polite about midlife. It’s not about learning to live—it’s about demanding space while you do it. It’s the soundtrack of every bulldog snore in my house, every husky-style side-eye, every unapologetic laugh that rattles the wine glasses.

I couldn’t stop at three because my life won’t stop giving me material. The mess, the lessons, the chaos—they all deserve their own chapters. Louder at 50 is me saying: I’m not fading quietly into this decade. I’m blasting it out like a Pride float with busted speakers and too much glitter.

So buckle up. The trilogy is dead. Long live the quartet