Tag: three authors of april

Image copyright: Harald Krichel, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I had the privilege of attending three author events in April. Last week, we kicked off the series with Colson Whitehead discussing space crackheads. In part two, I met David Sedaris.

The Event

It was Sunday, April 10, and Sedaris visited the Oncenter in Syracuse, New York. Tickets were a birthday present from my wife (thank you Sara!), and Sara’s mom Karen also joined us.

The first thing I recall seeing: A long table seasoned with Sedaris’s many books, which have delightfully eclectic covers. For instance, we purchased a copy of When You Are Engulfed in Flames; its cover depicts an astronaut’s skeleton sinking into sand, while a futuristic spaceship crumbles in the background. It looks like an Asimov novel, though Sedaris writes humorous nonfiction. I’m unsure how those connect, but I dig it.

The Crouse Hinds Theater wasn’t sold out, but it was pretty well filled, especially for a Sunday afternoon. We sat about 10 rows back on the right side of the stage—the perfect vantage to appreciate the author’s entrance. Speaking of which…

The Author

If you’ve read David Sedaris, you’re familiar with his affinity for culottes. He often writes about them, and though I’m aware of these pants from his writing, I’ve never actually seen them—until this event.

Turns out they’re a silky, reddish-orange garment that fall just below the knees and billow when you walk. Sedaris wore his with a suit jacket. They look super comfortable, and I might try wearing them if I was brave enough (not that I am).

Other than the culottes, my notes for this event were less thorough than those for Colson Whitehead. This is because the lights went down and remained dim until the end. I had my notebook and pen ready, but I couldn’t see what I was writing. The result: My notes were even messier than usual, not to mention incoherent. What does “piece on scaffolds” mean, anyway?

Still, even without my notes, I recall the sheer coolness of the event. Hundreds of people gathered in an auditorium to hear someone read stuff. We love to make sweeping claims about society these days, one of the most common being that cell phones have killed the long attention span. Yet there we were, a few hundred contradictions, enjoying a simple reading for over two hours. Aside from quick pictures, I saw nary a cell screen.

Anyhoo, enough cultural commentary. Let’s talk about jizzum-soaked hags.

David Sedaris said it, not me. I know this because it was one of the few legible entries in my notebook, as if God really wanted me to remember it. For context, Sedaris was listing phrases The New Yorker has cut from his articles in the past. “Jizzum-soaked hag” was used to describe a woman who accosted him during a late night wander through Central Park, an episode he went into hilarious detail on.

After various anecdotes like this and a few essays, Sedaris concluded the readings with some journal entries. I’ve kept a journal of my own since this date, mostly because I want to someday sell mine like he did. Here’s an entry from the day after the event:

“It occurs to me that Sedaris leads a far more interesting life than me. If you’re reading this someday in the future and you’ve paid for it, prepare for anecdotes about Albany, New York, Taco Bell, and the annoyances of indie publishing on Amazon. I apologize in advance.”

Nobody’s paying for that—but journaling has been fun nonetheless.

Sedaris capped things off with questions. This was perhaps my favorite part of the afternoon, because, unlike other authors, he makes no attempt to be polite in his answers. For instance, someone asked him, “What’s the best state to visit on book tours?” Sedaris answered something to the effect of, “We can’t end on that question, somebody give me another.”

The Post-Event

After the reading, we met the man himself. I didn’t take notes on this, so you’ll have to trust my memory. (Now we’re both in trouble.)

The line was long, and it stayed long no matter how long we stood in it. It was for good reason, though: Sedaris talks to everybody. This isn’t the cursory chat you get from most authors, where you say, “I just love your books,” and they say, “Why thank you, devoted follower.” Sedaris strikes up an actual conversation with everyone in line.

For example, he commiserated with my mother-in-law on the disadvantages of having the name “Karen” these days. Sedaris suggested that internet fads eventually pass, so this one probably would, too. I think Karen appreciated that.

My wife and I said little during this exchange. For weeks prior, Sara brainstormed something great to say, perhaps hoping she would appear in future books. She even considered giving him a salt potato or a jar of Pastabilities pasta sauce, sort of like a Syracusian peace offering.

Of course, once we got to the front of the line, we couldn’t think of anything except the occasional, “Yeah” or, “Thank you,” maybe even a, “You were great.” So it goes.

The Takeaways

Journaling! I tried keeping a journal in college but never maintained it. Since seeing David Sedaris, I’ve had far more success. And if I ever collect the entries in a book and sell them, you’ll know who to blame.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.