An open letter to Anne Lamott

Dear Anne Lamott….

I was wondering if you need a new friend, because I would like to apply for the position.

I know you are currently advertising for a gentleman caller, as am I (see how alike we are?), but, face it, the odds keep getting worse for us and GF’s last longer. Also, I am looking for the same guy as you, and if there is one I want him. You can write; I got nothing, c’mon!

I have been following you on FB and Twitter, but that’s just a tease, because really all I want to do is sit down with you and a cup of tea, dandle Jax on my knee and talk about WAIT. I want to argue with you about god and read your shitty first drafts. I’ll bet they’re not shitty, but if they are  they will, at the least , make me feel better about my final drafts.

I have been re-reading all of your books. I am a recovering alcoholic, and I find great comfort in your struggles and the way that you humanize them. At one time I might have drunk gin straight  from the cat bowl with jesus, now I laugh so hard when I read that line. I get it. Anyway, I re-read and then lend so that others can laugh at their particular pain too, and see it in print, the fact that someone else gets them.

I am now re-reading Bird By Bird. It is promised to someone when I am through, but I think she’ll have to wait, because as soon as I finish it I plan to re-read it again. (She can wait; she’s a much better writer than I am). I wish I could take a writing class with you, but the book helps, though I can’t seem to get by the shitty first draft stage. Your stories and ideas and encouragements are so helpful. You make it seem doable, until I sit down and try and do it. Then sometimes I start looking for that cat dish. Or jesus. Well, not jesus, but you know what I mean.

Anyhow…you see? We have a LOT in common. We could be good friends. I live in SCAL, so we’d be long-distance good friends,  but that’s probably for the best anyway. We’d have to email, and then I would have  a lot of great, funny emails and get lots of good writing experience crafting well-worded, pithy and hilarious answers back to you. Might be weeks between emails, but you’d accept that. After all, everyone can’t be expected to have your way with words.  And then when you come through town on some speaking tour I can meet you for dinner after and re-hash the event, dish it, right? It would be fun.  Oh and I have cool friends here who I could bring to the event and you’d all like each other. I have friends in NCAL too, so when I come up I could visit and then casually drop “oh, I have to RUN! Anne and I are meeting for dinner. What? Anne LAMOT, you know, the famous writer? Of course you do”.

 

Let me know what you think. I’m not desperate. The above friends I was talking about? I really do have them, and they have me. I’m lucky. But you would be a cool friend to have.  You kinda already are (FB and TWITTER, right?), so why not make it less virtual more real world.

I’ll even give you the guy (he’s not that great , they never are. But you know that)

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9 Comments

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  1. “Might be weeks between emails, but you’d accept that.”

    Bahahaha! Hilarious AND WELL-WRITTEN post.

    Love,
    Your fellow writer friend

  2. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of her! I’m going to look her up.

  3. Bet she doesn’t have as many friends as you think she does.
    Did you read the one about tennis?
    xoxoxo

  4. Reading forward in your blog and had to tell you that after reading your letter to Anne Lamott, I went straight to the Bird by Bird on my shelf and reread the introduction and first chapter. Still giggling over the dialogue with 3-year-old Sam, who says “Oh, shit,” when his plastic keys won’t open the door. His mother reprimands him, and,

    He hung his head for a moment, nodded, and said, “Okay, Mom.” Then he leaned forward and said confidentially, “But I’ll tell you why I said ‘shit.'” I said Okay, and he said, “Because of the fucking keys.”

    You have such a way with words yourself, I think you and Anne Lamott would have a rollicking good time together.

    Susan

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