Bossypants by Tina Fey

So, basically, Tina Fey sat down and wrote a book about her life. Hilarity ensues. (Full disclosure: I listened to the audiobook. I have found that the best vehicles for memoirs are the authors reading their own words. I feel like I get more from it.)

I labeled this as "edutainment" because it is full of life lessons, and if I were starting out in the world I would turn to it as inspiration for not letting presumptions about my gender keep me from succeeding. After all, if not for her persistence, SNL would NEVER have aired the hilarious Kotex Classic commercial.

She covers everything from her scar (questions about which say more about that asker than they do about her) to what it's like to say, in front of your father whom you admire so much, that your wonky little show has been picked up for a full season. Her prayer for her daughter is poignant and hilarious and true, and the images she includes for our viewing pleasure are honest and relatable.

This is one of those books that I'm telling all the ladies in my life to read, and if I had the funds, I would just buy everyone copies. (If you're a person who spends a lot of time in your car, get the audio. Trust me. But beware: at time I was laughing so hard I cried. That could be problematic.)

Enjoy!

A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg

I have decided that food writers might be my favorite people. It's one of the few area where you don't just stumble into it and you're "meh" about food but you write anyway...if that were the case you'd be out of a job faster than it takes your last review to become bird cage liner...or whatever the blog equivalent is.

And yes, Molly Wizenberg has a blog. That's how I found her*. She's Orangette. And she came to have the blog because she Loves food. Capital L, Loves. And it shines through. Every essay is a rosy memory of her life, scented with the aromas of whichever kitchen was nearby. Luckily - those land in our laps as recipes because Molly (you don't mind that I call you Molly, do you?) is emphatically Anti-Secret-Recipe. All the better for us, eh?

I've tagged this as cozy because it is. She has reduced her life to its essence: soul searching via her taste buds. There are moments of tenderness, sadness (her father's illness and passing are related in a frank way that tugged at my heart,) and celebration, and giddiness.  There are no great revelations (except for french toast in oil - GENIUS) and there's no great moral to smack you in the face and although you'll spend a lot of time hungry while you read this book, you won't have gained five pounds by the end of it. Or maybe you will have - it all comes down to quantity, doesn't it?

I ordered this book through my local bookshop before I'd even finished the copy borrowed from the library - and we've made one recipe (french toast in oil. Did I mention it's genius?) and I've earmarked another...chocolate cake on Easter? They procured me the paperback - and a pleasant surprise is that it has discussion in the back, complete with a little Q&A with Molly herself. I heartily endorse this as a book club book, as long as someone brings cake.

A note to the vegetarians in the crowd: Molly's husband, Brandon, is a vegetarian, so there are quite a few meatless recipes. But Molly isn't, so there is also meat to be had...mostly fish. Nothing to worry about if you're squeamish.

Dig in!


*Full disclosure: when the book first came out it took long enough to make it to my stack that I was in the throws of the Worst Morning Sickness Ever and not only had I hidden all of my food blogs, but I just couldn't read it. So back to the library it went and I forgot about it until Amster-Burton name checked Molly in Hungry Monkey. Thank you, Amster-Burton. All of the stomachs in our house are grateful.

Hungry Monkey by Matthew Amster-Burton

I bought this for my husband last year with the knowledge that when he finished it, I would read it. I just finished it. Literally, I just read through the last section of "recommended reading, our favorite convenience foods, and acknowledgments." The book is filled with flags of further reading or items to investigate and I have already made one of the recipes (bibimbap.)

Amster-Burton is a food writer and father living in Seattle with his wife, Laurie, and daughter, Iris.  Here is something annoying: Iris at the time of writing was 4. Iris at the onset of fun food was about 20 months. Which is six months from where we are and I find myself impatient. But I digress.

This book is engaging. It is funny. It is inspirational and appetizing....that is, I would have a nice, full dinner and a little while later I would read a chapter or two in the bath and when I emerged I would be starving and inspired to really cook. Hence the bibimbap, which was delicious.

Amster starts with the precept that there is no baby food. There is only people food, presented in such a way that babies can eat it. And he went from there. He also invited Iris into the kitchen - one of the most intriguing slices of their life is the way Iris participates (or opts out because she's "busy lying on the couch.")  Through tales of farmers markets, fishmongers, preschool snack days, and pasta sauce, Amster invites you in to his kitchen - there is no doubt in my mind that given the chance the invitation would be real and the casual comraderie would not falter. Or I'm just a crazy fan who reads too much into things. Either way, I really want a sequel.



He has a blog, and this entry has video footage with Iris, so you can see just how cute she really is:

http://www.rootsandgrubs.com/2009/05/19/on-tv/

Happy Reading!

PS - they are NOT vegetarians, so if you take issue with things like "it starts with flank steak" or "We bought a live lobster" then be warned those parts are in there. But don't skip the book. There are muffins and udon, too!

Momma Zen By Karen Maezen Miller

I thoroughly enjoyed Miller's other book, so I made sure I was able to savor this one, in which she takes us along on her journey as a new mother, musing over lullabies and sleepless nights, food struggles, television guilt, schedules, and the sudden illness and passing of her own mother. I do not personally know Karen (although we are "facebook friends") but as I read her reflection on the loss of her mother, I mourned with her.

Miller is moving and inspirational without being the kind of person who gives Moving Inspirational Speeches. She quietly shows you how things work for her and provides space for you to recognize what is (and isn't) working for you. Here is a space to allow yourself to truly feel what you are feeling and then the gentle guidance needed to let all of that go.

A random pull quote:

"On a perfect day in your perfect little world (and it's always perfect) there is breakfast time, playtime, lunchtime, nap time, snack time, dinnertime, bath time, story time, and bedtime. There is time for everything when you are the timekeeper." (p68)

It is not just her own wisdom that she shares, every chapter opens with a quote from Sutras, Blessings, Buddhist Lessons, and the Wise Ones who came before. The book ends with a lesson on How to Meditate, and follows with an index "For the Hard Days", in which you can look up lessons for the help you most need right now.

Miller is a Zen Buddhist Priest, and while that informs her writings and her lessons, she neither shoves it down your throat nor urges you to throw off your previous labels and Join Her. She merely invites you in to a place where the people are just people, lives are just lived, and every moment exists in your breath. I consider myself lucky to have both of her books on my shelf.

(Bonus: she has a blog.)

Poser: My Life in Twenty-Three Yoga Poses by Claire Dederer

The title for this one says it all, really. With flashbacks to her childhood, and a present-time recounting that spans her first ten years of motherhood and yoga study, Dederer takes us through her own rite of passage. Can it be a rite of passage when it's a memoir written by an adult about her adult life? I'm going to say yes. I'm also going to call it a coming-of-age piece and a truly fun read.

The tagline on her website reads: "What if you turned your life upside down...and wound up with both feet on the ground?"

I identify with Dederer on several levels and I'm convinced that is what made this book so enjoyable for me.  But rather than go on and on about me, I thought I was going to do something even better: answer one of the "reading group" questions from the website. But all of those made me want to talk about me.


So I will just say this: read this book. If you like yoga. If you like memoirs. If you like funny, self-depricating stories where the heroine and her family nearly implode only to jump their proverbial shark and put themselves back on the right track. Read it if you like heart warming, cozy, inspiring tales of a person whose childhood was left-of-center but who grew up to be alright anyway. And certainly read it if you just aren't sure what to read next. Let it inspire you to be brave.

The Guinea Pig Diaries by A.J. Jacobs

Unfortunately for Julie, this book is not about Eleanor Roosevelt. Fortunately for Julie, it includes a month wherein A.J. is her slave. This time around, Jacobs has published a collection of essays previously written for various magazines and since updated.

They include such shenanigans as outsourcing his life to India, living as George Washington did, and - as aforementioned - being Julie's slave. I found myself wanting to conduct some of my own immersion experiments, but given the presence of an 11 month old my only immersion is in sleep deprivation.

I think my two favorite experiments - ones which I would take on myself - are "The Rationality Project" and "I Think You're Fat" (aka: Radical Honesty.) In the former, Jacobs tempers everything with a cold sheen of rationality. It's a bit like Dr. Brennan on Bones, but with more humor and the awareness of what he's doing. The latter encompasses not only saying only truthful things, but completely removing the filter between what you think and what you say. An amusing endeavor...until you remember that society functions on niceties and white lies of omission and then things get complicated.

The beauty of all of these is that not once do you get the sense that Jacobs is trying to be funny. Or trying to be interesting. He has merely stumbled upon something that is interesting to him and is sharing it with anyone else who might have the same interest. The result is a candid look at what happens when you voluntarily change your habits and embark on what is frequently seen by others as whimsical folly.

Luckily it's lucrative enough for him that he continues to be published so the rest of us can enjoy his flights of fancy.


Here he is at TED - a little bit about the essays in this book, but also the Year of Living Biblically:



PS - The Year of Living Biblically movie is still slated for 2011...but Marlan Wayans signed on to star in it and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Hand Wash Cold by Karen Maezen Miller

This delightful little tome was hidden in the "Self Help" section of Borders...which is a bit like sticking Heathers in the Suspense section of Blockbuster (it's a comedy, people.) While the subtitle does lend itself to being a "how-to-DIY-your life into amazingness," the real inspiration lies in Miller's recollections and reflections and for that I call it a memoir.

While Miller is a mother, this is not (necessarily) a book for mothers. Or for fathers, for that matter. It's a book for people who would like to know how to slow down a little and enjoy their life as it comes to them...people who want to take care of themselves in a way that you just don't find at a gym or (ironically) in the self-help section.

Miller, a Zen Buddhist Priest and teacher (Sensei), is spiritual without being preachy. Her faith might not be your faith and that's alright because the answer doesn't necessarily lie in faith. It lies in the willingness to slow down and take your life as it comes.

There's a quote on the back by Katrina Kenison that sums it up nicely:

"Ever found yourself up to your elbows in the messy stuff of your own everyday life and wondered, "Is this all there is?" Karen Maezen Miller answers that age-old question with a resounding "Yes." Read this deceptively simple, deeply wise little book not to change your life, but to fall quietly, unequivocally back in love with the life you already have."

I feel that I will read this one again and again and every time I will glean new insights into why and how my life is perfect just as it is. You should, too. And bonus: she has a blog.


PS - a little confession, as I read I keep flashing to Dorothy at the end of The Wizard of Oz:  "...if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! Is that right?"

My Monastery is a Minivan by Denise Roy

***I published this on my other blog - it's only vaguely a review, but I was moved in this manner by this book, which is more honest than me just saying: "it's great. Read it." ****

Dear Denise,

    Can I call you Denise? We’re both adults, and after reading My Monastery is a Minivan, I feel like we’re friends.

    My son is 3 months old. 15 weeks. It’s such a short amount of time - not a full season for any sport, not a full semester, only a 3rd of the amount of time it took me to make him. And yet in that time I realized several very disturbing things. First, I am psychotic. I’ve worked with a lot of young children over the course of the past 20 (egads!) years and the one thing that every mom has ever told me is: “it’s different when they’re yours. You’re more patient.” They. LIE. After twenty years of what I considered to be “helping to raise” children I thought I had the baby thing IN THE BAG. It took ten days to knock me off that horse. Second, I am not nearly as calm and composed as I’d like. I know there are hormones, but the tears, the frustration...it’s like puberty all over again only this time it’s being triggered by an infant. These two things left me feeling very out of my depth.

    So I started to look for some guidance. If you want to lead a more calm and balanced life there is a guide for that - many, actually. I started with mommy blogs (perfect window dressing but few willing to actually post that their child had them up all night for God-knows-why and what they really want is a martini) and moved on to montessori review (I’ve studied this as education and child care training, but not as a mother) and it’s still just as dry a read as it was when I was eighteen...I watched a documentary on the Dalai Lama (I follow him on facebook as well) and that was helpful and inspirational...but he’s not a mom. He doesn’t get it.

    And then, I’m in our local children’s bookstore just browsing and I see your book. On the shelf directly below “Once Upon a Potty” is the exact word I didn’t know was missing from my life: Momfulness. I picked it up and allowed it to fall open in my hands. This is something I often do with books - allowing the universe to guide me to recipes, essays, inspiration - and it opened to the Thich Nhat Hanh prayer*. Needless to say, I purchased it.

    But I read My Monastery is a Minivan first. I’m just starting on Momfulness, and I so far I’m glad I’m reading them in this order. I needed to know more about you as a mother before I started to learn from you. Although, really, I don’t think one needs to be a mother to enjoy your stories. One just has to have a mother. One just has to have a family.  On 35 separate occasions I was moved to tears, laughter, and deep contentment. I am inspired to be more present, to recognize that we are happy, to have more patience with myself and my son. Just hearing your experiences helps me find peace with mine.

    I do want to particularly address the story entitled “The Mother of Men.” For reasons too lengthy to go into here, I was (and am still, to a lesser extent) very apprehensive about raising a son. Everywhere else I looked were platitudes but you got to the heart of it: what men need is a rite of passage wherein the older men say “you are important and what you say is important.” I finished the book and immediately re-read that essay. In 13 years my husband (and our close male friends and relatives) will take our son into the Redwoods for a weekend and they will welcome him to manhood.

    Your 35 stories (and now your second book - so far, at least) has given me hope and reassurance that even though I’m not perfect, I don’t need to be. That as long as I practice compassion and mindfulness and respect - not just for my family but for myself as well, which is often harder - that it will all be ok.

    So really, I just wanted to say thank you.

*
Breathing in, I calm my body
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment,
I know this is a wonderful moment.

Take The Cannoli by Sarah Vowell

 

    That’s right, folks, the rut continues. But who can blame me? Take The Cannoli is every bit as masterful as the other works I’ve read - essays full of insight and humor (even the dark ones have that sardonic twist that so many writers aspire to and few actually achieve.)
   
    The theme for this book is “Sarah Vowell: This Is Your Life!” It’s comprised of essays that have appeared in other places first, This American Life being chief among those other places. We learn about her father’s gun habit and how she held her first (and only) gun at the tender age of six. (I feel the need to add here that this is the one of many places in her books where I say “Me, too!” to either her experience or opinion. It’s yet another reason we should be BFF’s….Sarah, are you reading this? BFF’s. For real.)

    Reading these essays feels like sitting at the table with an old friend shooting the breeze over coffee at 3am: confessions, confidences, and the hard stories that shape who you’ve become spill out, ready to be told and peppered with insight and humor. You walk away feeling like a better person - more enlightened and compassionate.

    Ok - that is mostly referring to her essay “What I See When I Look at the Face on the Twenty-Dollar Bill” where she and her sister go on what might be the most depressing road-trip ever: a Heritage Tour of the Trail of Tears. Vowell is part Cherokee, so this bit of history is made that much more real. As much as she makes me laugh - this essay moved me to tears.  Not “I need a box of tissues” tears, but the more subtle, touching “aw you’re crying!” tears. Because it’s personal to her, it’s personal to us.

    But don’t worry - it’s not all White Guilt and nerdery. She also stays in the most infamous hotel in New York (and we all need a shower,) makes mix-tapes, goes to Disneyland, shares her love of the Godfather, and gets a goth makeover. (That last one particularly speaks to me - I showed up to a get-together once with my hair streaked black and in dreadlocks and with smokey eye makeup only to be told that no matter what I do I’m always a little “crunchy.” Normally I embrace it, but I was going for mysterious. Sigh.)

    Anyway - all of this is to say that even when it’s all I’m reading, Sarah Vowell doesn’t get old. Part of me wishes I’d eeked these out in the interest of not running out of her work to read, but the other part really likes diving in and being imbued with the insight and amusement. 

The Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell

Full disclosure: I am in a Sarah Vowell Rut. Not that it’s a bad rut to be in. In fact, I’m finding it to be a most enjoyable rut. Given that this book is one of essays, it is perfect to slowly work my way through while feeding my newborn, which happens with greater frequency every day.

    I have decided that I need to be friends with Sarah Vowell. Anyone who can make a valid argument for “If Al Gore were more like Willow from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, he might have won the election” is tops in my book. She then goes on to cover such topics as why Tom Cruise makes her nervous, visiting Salem to remind herself that no matter how bad life gets, it could be worse, Gettysburg, arcade basketball, The Wonder Twins, and Tom Landry.

    While it’s not a straight-forward memoir, Patriot allows us more than a passing glimpse into Vowell’s inner space. We learn why she likes the Underground Lunchroom and why she feels that Clinton could learn a thing or two from Nixon. She makes no bones about her nerdiness, her love of America and it’s history, and her eager embrace of the online political community - if only because it lets her vent to like minded people. (Which is really why we all like it, right?)

    All of this is delivered with the articulate candor of an author comfortable with both her own intellect and the subject she’s romanticizing. Luckily, even if you’re not a history buff, even if you pay not one lick of attention to politics, you will still find yourself entertained by Vowell, because she manages to be both ridiculously smart and a self-deprecating “everyman” who is infinitely relatable and accessible.

    Like I said, I’m in a rut. I finished this one and immediately picked up it’s predecessor: Take The Cannoli (with a title like that, who can resist?) which I am slowly working my way through as I did with Patriot. I happen to agree with David Sedaris, who feels she is a national treasure.