I love how sassy David Sedaris is. He could slap you in the face and you would be like, “That’s so insightful – what an interesting point of view. Yes, I do believe my nose is broken but god dang…that guy can put a pen to paper. That dude knows how to scrawl a story, alright.” Sedaris, a middle-aged wunderkind, literary powerhouse, is the kind of author who you want to be your friend and not just because if you got on his bad side, he’d roast the heck out of you in a scathing, charming essay. He makes smoking weed seem professorial – his elbow patches are made of hemp and fluffy daydreams. He’s the most multi-cultured guy from North Carolina. He enjoys the simpler things in life. He’s the Most Interesting Gay Man in the World.
David Sedaris might be my favorite writer. He’s so poignant, he always has a unique perspective, his words are mostly simple yet wise. He writes about mundane things and makes them seem like the fate of the universe depends upon them. He lends authenticity and gravity to his work – it feels like he respects whoever is reading it. He’s just a great, talented penman.
If you’ve had the pleasure of reading one of Sedaris’s books, you don’t need me to tell you all this - you’re already aware of his LeBron-ish tendencies amongst those who write autobiographical, personal essays. I can’t imagine someone reading him and not loving it – maybe they would think he was aloof or they’re from Boston and are like, “You think you’re better than me?” The truth is YES – David Sedaris probably is better than you and most other people on the planet not named LeBron. Especially if you’re from Boston (shots fired at a city I’ve never been to).
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