Books don't have to be everything

This is awesome but not THAT awesome.

A while back, as part of my graduate studies, I took a class on the publishing industry and its rather uncertain future. We spent one evening talking about the different ways that writing is getting published these days--e-publishing, blogging, fan fiction--and inevitably, talk turned to the 50 Shades of Grey series.

Someone mentioned a book club in her hometown where little old ladies and housewives would get together and read (you guessed it) 50 Shades of Grey. We all tittered at her description. Not only is the series pretty heavily S&M-based erotica, but the writing is poor quality. (Disclaimer: I have nothing particularly against erotica, but the otherwise conservative people I know who kept posting on Facebook about how much they loved 50 Shades always amused me.) And even if you've read the books and enjoyed them--and I don't care if you did--you can probably concede that, well, they aren't exactly great writing.

But one of my classmates drew us back as we laughed. "At least they're reading," she said. "We talk all the time about how people don't read anymore, and then we make fun of them for reading 50 Shades of Grey? It's still a book and we don't need to make fun of it."

At the time, I thought she was right. We were silent after that, put in our place as graduate students in writing who ought to be happy that, for any of its flaws or ironies, a book was bringing people together.

But I'm not sure I agree anymore. Now, here's the obvious part of the post. I love books. I love reading. I have a handful of degrees focused on the creation, digestion, and analysis of the written word (that's a fancy way of saying I was an English major). Books are amazing and literacy allows for creativity and mind adventures and reading rainbows etc. to infinity. When I meet someone who says they don't read, I'm disappointed; anyone with a full bookcase is extremely sexy in my eyes.

But not ALL books are equal. Some are just plain bad. The existence of words on a page does not automatically make a certain story superior to one told in, say, a TV show. For example: for Christmas this year, my mother bought my fiance and me a book called 1001 Questions to Ask Before Getting Married. When we started reading it, we quickly realized that the book was a joke. And not even an intentional joke, just a poorly thought-out bunch of words on paper. There were questions in this book so basic that any reasonable couple would have talked about these things well before any idea of marriage--like what kind of career you want, or if you want children. There was an entire section devoted to making sure you weren't secretly gay--obviously the whole book catered to straight/heteronormative couples. A section on pets had a question about what you'd do with your partner's pet if you hated it: try and get it to run away and lie about it later, maybe? Hmm? Would you do that? Better find out if your partner is a psychopathic kitten-killer before it's too late!

We were in hysterics, reading this horrible book. (In my poor mom's defense, she thought she'd bought us something else--some other, way more legit couples book--and agreed with us that this book was totally ridiculous. We all had a good laugh.)

For what it's worth, I don't really care for used bookstores. At least not the ones where the books are piled high and you can barely move and everything is $2 and mildew hangs in the air. These places are the holy grail for some bibliophiles, I know, but they're plain gross to me.

Now, I don't care what you read--if you read Twilight for fun, that's all good by me, though we ought to be able to at least agree that there are some rather problematic themes in that series and that maybe the writing quality isn't the best. Harlequin romance novels? Why not? Again, they can be formulaic and silly and often rather sexist--but also fun and frothy and totally fine. Graphic novels? Actually, a lot of these are better than you might be aware and I really want everyone to read Persepolis.

I also don't read as much as I think I should. A so-called writer like me ought to be tearing through a novel a week at least, right? Yeah, that doesn't happen. I do read, and I'm slowly getting back into the luxury of diving into something really wonderful and not coming up for air until much later, blinking slowly as I remember my own reality. It just doesn't happen every week, or even every month. Because a lot of the time, reading feels like a lot of work, and I'd rather turn on Netflix and scroll through Twitter.

I've decided that I should work on my reading habits, but I should also work on my unnecessary guilt about how much reading I'm doing. Reading a so-so book isn't necessarily praiseworthy, and it certainly isn't better than watching your favorite movie or listening to a podcast. Books are not the holiest of media.

And reading should not ever ever be something you do because you don't want to feel like you haven't done it enough. Read whatever you want, but read it because you want to. (Or because you're paid to be a lawyer and read legal briefs or because you're paid to read someone's biography and review it.)

And those women in their 50 Shades book club? I mean, I'll never fully get it, but I'm fine with it. You do you.

Am I right, ladies?: a review of memoirs by women in comedy

So I recently started, tossed aside in disgust, picked up again, and reluctantly finished Julie Klausner's memoir I Don't Care About Your Band. It was an okay book--I'll talk more about that--but it made me realize that I've read several memoirs in the last several years by women who work in comedy in some way or another. Here's my list of funny-lady books, in order from (in my opinion) best to definitely-not-best:

Tina Fey, Bossypants

Okay, who else would be at the top? Not only has Fey had an awesome career in comedy so far, but she's an excellent, hilarious writer. I have read Bossypants cover-to-cover at least twice, but more often I pull it up on my Kindle (oh my gawd, I know, a Kindle) and pick a chapter at random when I need to pass some time. Every story, from the description of her debonair father to her after-college job at the Evanston YMCA to her first meeting with Lorne Michaels to her reflections on motherhood, is delightful and engaging. Fey has a deeply feminist perspective that I appreciate, and balances her cynicism with the self-deprecation and perfect pop-culture references that also came through during the seven wonderful seasons of 30 Rock. Okay, Tina Fey is one of my role models and I get that I'm seriously biased in this review, but even if you're meh on her, you will enjoy this book.


Jen Kirkman, I Can Barely Take Care of Myself: Tales from a Happy Life Without Kids

Kirkman is my ultimate girl-crush, and even though she's best known from Chelsea Lately and Drunk History (not to mention her own comedy and her wonderful podcast, I Seem Fun), it was through this book that I found out she existed. At the time, last summer, I was hungry for books from women who'd chosen never to have children, a future I was going back and forth on at the time, and Kirkman gave me exactly what I needed: a manifesto for the childfree lifestyle, built not through judgment but through memory and wit and solid argument. I'd say this book is part memoir, part testament to a way of life that still doesn't receive nearly the credit it deserves, but at the same time, Kirkman never tries to persuade her readers that they should be just like her. The point is simply to say that she's never wanted children, and it's totally fine. And if the thought of being childfree isn't in the cards for you, it doesn't matter; this is a fun read either way.


Mindy Kaling, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? And Other Concerns

The first time I read this book, I think I was a tad bit disappointed. A lot of what Kaling writes about is rather surface-level, and occasionally you get the feeling that she never did so much as smoke pot once in college or under-tip a waiter or have sex with a creep. Make a mistake, Mindy! Let us be mildly disappointed in you! That said, this is another enjoyable, smart memoir by a woman whose career had only begun to take off when it was published (at the time she was still writing for The Office and playing its character Kelly). The way Kaling writes about her childhood friends, her brief job as a nanny, and the daydreams she has to get herself through a workout remind me a great deal of her character on The Mindy Project, actually: a little superficial and ditzy on the outside, but also charming and intelligent.




Rachel Dratch, Girl Walks Into A Bar...Comedy Calamities, Dating Disasters, and a Midlife Miracle

Meh. I so wanted to enjoy this book--Rachel Dratch is a fantastic actress with a long SNL career that I was aching to learn more about. But you really don't get much of that. The childhood stuff is pretty bland, the comedy/SNL stuff is good but fleeting, and then you get page after page about her unexpected detour into motherhood. Dratch loves being a mom, especially after believing she wouldn't be one for so long, and her not-quite-romantic-but-definitely-partnered relationship with the father of her child is interesting, but that's not the reason why you'd read this book, is it? Of course not. You want to read about hanging out with young Jimmy Fallon and what it's like to be a popular actress who isn't particularly beautiful (that sounds meaner than I intend it--it's just that I like reading/thinking about people who make it in entertainment despite not having the classic "look"). At least, I did. I only got a handful of the good, meaty, show-biz stuff and way more than I cared to about baby slings and nursing.


Julie Klausner, I Don't Care About Your Band: What I Learned from Indie Rockers, Trust Funders, Pornographers, Faux Sensitive Hipsters, Felons, and Other Guys I've Dated

Blerg. I've been listening to Julie Klausner's podcast recently and liked it, so I figured her book would be good, too. It really isn't. There are some funny, juicy bits in the beginning, but most of the book is bleak and rather boring. Thing is, it could have all been so much better with some context. Who is Julie Klausner, and why should we care that she dated/slept with her fair share of shitty men in her twenties? This book offers up very little of the rest of her life. What does she care about and what does she want? What does she do with her time when she's not watching some unfortunate dude shed his clothing in a dank, ugly bachelor pad somewhere in New York? We don't know. This book is simply chapter after chapter of disgust and frustration that never gets resolved. Sure, it's "relatable," in the sense that most of  us have been there, but that doesn't mean it's interesting.




Let's not forget that the wonderful Amy Poehler's book, Yes, Please, is coming out in October! What books by women in comedy have you read and enjoyed/not enjoyed? Anyone read any Chelsea Handler? I really can't bring myself to do that but I will if you think it's worth it.

A thing about weddings that I wrote!

I'm leaving tomorrow evening for a July 4th long weekend with my fiance's family, and I'm working on a longer post that may take some time to put together. In the meantime, here's a link to something I wrote for Offbeat Bride (an amazing, inclusive, non-stuffy wedding website) a few months ago!

 Who the hell cares: important lessons from partners who aren't as interested in wedding planning