Don DeLillo’s sexy hockey novel is getting reissued.

Sure, your parents warned you not to do something only because your friends want you to, but sometimes maybe you should. This week, I’m thankful that Don DeLillo has finally relented to peer pressure and let his 1980 book Amazons, the funny, racy hockey novel he published under a pen name, be reprinted for the first time in 46 years.

According to Publishers Marketplace and the New York Times, DeLillo’s pseudonymous Amazons will come out in a new edition this November from Scribner, still under the pseudonym Cleo Birdwell.

The book’s subtitle, “An Intimate Memoir by the First Woman Ever to Play in the National Hockey League,” pretty succinctly sums up the plot of this fictitious autobiography. It’s a faux memoir written from the perspective of the first woman to play in the NHL, full of jokes, weird asides and social satire, and a fair amount of sex. There’s hockey too, of course.

The fact that the book was DeLillo’s has long been an open secret, but he let Amazons fall out of print and only recently confirmed he was the writer behind Birdwell in a Times interview a few years ago. The book would have been DeLillo’s seventh, but was rejected by his editor, the legenday Robert Gottlieb at Knopf. DeLillo instead took the novel to Holt, Rinehart and Winston, who presented it as a real memoir by “Cleo Birdwell,” complete with a fake author photo and bio.

The book reentered the literary conversation thanks to another Times piece that presented Amazons as the sexy hockey precursor to Heated Rivalry, and was followed by a great Defector piece making the case that it’s DeLillo’s funniest book. The attention overheated the used copy market and activated group chats (I’ve been sending around some pretty deranged “who’s got Amazons” texts lately), but crucially it also changed the conversation at Chez DeLillo. After a lunch with DeLillo’s wife, his editor, and a fellow novelist, followed by a call from his agent and editor, Don relented and gave the go ahead for a reissue.

The change of heart is likely DeLillo feeling established enough as a writer to let his weirdest experiment out into the wild again—though still without his name attached. Amazons came out earlier in DeLillo’s career, when he was more judicious about protecting his reputation. And of course much of the credit seems to pressure from DeLillo’s wife, who “had stayed up until midnight the night before, reading it and laughing, Graham said,” to the Times.

As someone who loves funny writing, I’m glad to see this belated embrace of a cast-aside comic novel. Maybe the walls that have kept straight-ahead comic novels from getting too close to the hallowed halls of literary fiction are starting to crumble.