David Sedaris

I've never been big on book signings, but David Sedaris seems to be the exception to the rule. I wasn't planning on waiting around until the small hours of the morning to meet him, but that is what happened a few weeks ago, when he came to do a reading at the IU Auditorium.

Here is why I wanted to meet David Sedaris:
1. His books have actually made me laugh out loud, in public, and have been familiar things to read when I'm scared or stressed in a new place.
2. His reading of the Santaland Diaries for This American Life got me through working retail in NYC last year. I listened to it a freakish amount, and it always helped to remind me that it could be worse. I could be wearing an elf costume and getting yelled at, instead of just getting yelled at. Also, his rendition of Away in a Manger, sung like Billie Holiday, is gold.
3. He sums up how I feel about so many things, except in a way that is funnier than me. Sallie Mae, language classes, Dutch Christmas legends, the way Americans act in Paris, the importance of soap operas, his love songs to NYC, the manicness of his family--all of it.
4. One of my best friends from home wanted to come out for it and couldn't, and I wanted to have a good report back for her.

David Sedaris is one of those people who is funny in print, but even better when read aloud. I have never been in an auditorium where there was so much laughing, howling even. I was next to these two older women from South Bend, and they were both doubled over for most of the night. His writing can be raunchy and downright disturbing, but there is always a kernel of truth to it, that makes you think in the midst of all the absurdities. It sounds like a cliche, but parts of his stories make you laugh one line and then tear up the next. After hearing him read, I decided to buy his newest book, Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk, a sort of book of animal fables, which he calls a bestiary, because, as he put "fables tend to imply that there are morals involved, and I don't have any of those." (sidenote: this is a DARKLY funny book. I'm not sure what to make of it, although I did very much like it by the end. If you like DS, you would like it. If you normally don't, you would decidedly not.)

What is cool is that Sedaris tries out some of his newer material on the audience, and judging by their reaction, tweaks it or adds it to the book he is currently working on. The best part was his reading of excerpts from his diary. He edits at the podium, too--you can see him circling things or crossing them out or putting stars next to them, or he'll say things like, "oops, wrong placed apostrophe! Apologies."

So afterwards I joined many other people in line, which seemed to not go forward at all as the hours went by. The reason the line was taking so long is because Sedaris spends seriously 5 minutes with each person. And the line kind of turned into a big party--people were reading his books out loud, ordering pizza and sandwiches to the line, giggling about his police protection--who looked like identical twins, or lying down coats and taking a nap. People had taken the train in from Chicago, some had 8 am classes, the woman next to me was in town from Sarasota, and we all stayed. "He'll stay until he's met everyone," said the booksellers. I wasn't the end of the line, by a long shot, and I didn't get to meet him until 2 am.

My first impression was how TIRED he looked, with redrimmed eyes and the stubble start of a beard. At the reading, he'd mentioned that his flight had gotten canceled that morning, and I checked later and he was reading in Atlanta later that day. Book tours must be exhausting, all that hand shaking and forced cheerfulness. Except, with him, it WASN'T forced. I managed to tamp down my first inclination, which was to say, "god, you poor man, you look so tired." Instead, I said (very suavely! HA), "thank you for staying here so late. I'm glad you did."

"My pleasure," he said, with a smile. Then he asked some questions about me, and who the books were for, and we discussed lawnmowers (the inscription in mine says something about lawnmowers--don't ask), and then out of nowhere, he said, "are you here alone tonight?" (when I told this to the friend who so graciously picked me up, she gasped and said, "was he trying to SEDUCE YOU?!" I had to explain that's he's gay and been monogamously partnered for years.)

"I am," I replied. (I actually ended up having a seat near an acquaintance--neither of us knew beforehand that the other was going to be there--but like any normal person she had managed to snag him for a signing before the show, and was now presumably asleep.)

"Well!" Sedaris said, pulling a box out from under his chair. "Then I have something for you. Here are some business cards that say, 'Stop Talking' on them. You can hand them out to annoying people at movies, or people on their phones, whatever. And it's much more polite than saying 'Shut Up', or something."

"People on their cell phones are the worst, especially on the bus!!" I said. And then we had a nice little vent about why we dislike cell phones. And then we shook hands. I said goodbye to the people in line, and went home to read.

I said nothing witty or interesting, but I did make him laugh at one point, and was totally starstruck. And he was so nice. If you like his work and have a chance to see him, I would so recommend it.

For more on David Sedaris, if you are uninitiated, here is a bio. Check out here for some of his audio, including the Santaland Diaries. And here for a fairly comprehensive older interview. And finally, an abstract for his newest New Yorker article, and a past one on voting, since I just watched the NY gubernatorial debates (which were, by the way, as funny and heartbreaking as David Sedaris so often is.)