Year in (Book) Review: How Did You Get This Number

I have a healthy sense of irony, I think. I get that saying anything even remotely critical of a girl who writes about every trite and trivial thing happening in her life may make your eyebrows go up. I get it. So if I sound critical, just realize it's really nothing more than envy.

That's what Sloane Crosley does in her second book of personal essays, How Did You Get This Number -- she writes about every trite and trivial thing. Only what is trite and trivial in her life would land in the "five coolest things ever to happen to me" column in my life. Her first collection, I Was Told There'd Be Cake, came out a few years ago and had much the same impact on me as this one: insane jealousy that people live much cooler lives than me and therefore have more, and wackier, stories to tell.

I will compare her to David Sedaris, which is truly the highest compliment I can pay to an essayist. Indeed, every night after bathtime when it's time to say my prayers, He (God, not David) hears something from me along the lines of, "Dear God, please oh please oh please let someone compare me someday to David Sedaris." Sometimes it comes before my plea for a rich, gorgeous husband and a new pair of Louboutins and sometimes it comes after, but it's usually tucked comfortably in the middle.

The only times I got annoyed with Ms. Crosley were the moments she seemed to be veering down one path and then, ooh ... something shiny ... and she was off in another direction. I would rather read (and write, I guess, is probably really what I'm saying) a million short, tight stories than a rambling one that could probably be really funny except that you completely lost me and I have no idea what you're talking about so instead of laughing at/with/potAYto/potAHto you I'm just annoyed with you for talking too much. Again, ironic, I know. I know.

I do have to concede, though, this would have made a much better beach book than a heartwarming, beautifully executed tale about child sexual abuse. You can pick it up, put it down, read it quickly, skim, all attributes of a book destined to be resort reading. Not much meat, and that's okay, because who wants meat on the beach?

Actually, I'm going to tell you all to go get it, and read it, and then report back to me what you liked and what you didn't, so that when I start writing my own book I'll know what you want. Okay, go.