A few of you have asked me about this article about ABC making Let’s Pretend This Never Happened into a TV show and people are like, “Why aren’t you talking about this? Is it a secret?” and it’s not a secret and has been in the works for years now but the truth is that most shows never actually end up getting made and honestly, I only agreed to do it because I think it’ll be fun to write about if it’s a success and probably even funnier to write about if it’s a weird failure. My only concern now is that the article says that the pilot is about me going back home because of “a death in the family” so I had to call my mom yesterday and break the news that one of us is not going to make it and now we’re setting up a death pool to guess who it is. My mom thinks it’s her but my guess is that it’s more likely me because I think it would be a really cool M. Night Shyamalan twist to murder your lead in the first episode.
But that is not my post. It’s just a non-related preamble to my real post which is about books. If you’ve been reading here this week you’ve seen that I’ve been fighting off a mild but stubborn bout of depression. I’m fine but I’m utterly unfunny at the moment so I’ve spent this week resting, doing art projects with Hailey on the couch, and reading. Lots and lots of reading. And I’ve noticed that so often a book can save you in just the right way so I’ve gone back to some of my favorites…the books that I read over and over because they bring a strange comfort, or calming perspective, or are old friends I’ve missed and needed to see because I can visit them without the need to actually make conversation or wear pants. I was looking though my lists of books that I loved so much that I sometimes I wish I could erase them from my head and present them to myself anew. I found myself wondering how many other perfect books are out there that I haven’t found yet. And how many I’ll never find. And then I started to get depressed again so instead I decided that I would share a few of my comfort books and maybe it would inspire you to share some of yours and then we can all discover them together.
These aren’t necessarily the books that made my mind shift, or that taught me the most valuable lessons, or that were required reading to be human…these are the lovely guilty pleasures that somehow feel like home when I read them – and I realize this is going to be weird because a lot of these books are dark and fucked-up but sometimes dark and fucked-up can be a comfort, so stop judging me.
A few of my favorite comfort reads:
Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil: A Savannah Story by John Berendt
Bloody Business: An Anecdotal History of Scotland Yard by H. P. Jeffers (It’s out-of-print so check second-hand shops and indie book stores with connections.)
Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore
Geek Love: A Novel by Katherine Dunn
As soon as I hit “publish” I’ll remember one hundred others I forgot, but that’s okay because I suspect you’ll remind me.