Small Victories

When we arrived at the Pearl Room at the main branch of Powell’s book store in downtown Portland, two dozen people had already staked out their spot for the Jenny Lawson reading. Each one lost in a book or quietly conversing with friends while they waited for Lawson to arrive. Lawson’s visit is a part of a book tour to promote her latest memoir, Furiously Happy. Over the course of the next two hours the two dozen would fill the floor to capacity and a separate room where people could listen to the reading.  I am one of about two dozen men sprinkled amongst the hundreds of women who have shown up to see the author read. Standing 6’2” and 270lbs, I can’t help but feel a little awkward, but like the other people who have come early to see the blogging phenom, I am a big fan of Lawson’s work. Fortunately, I could hide alongside my wife, who introduce me to Lawson’s blog, thebloggess.com in 2012, shortly before her first book came out. When she announced the Portland leg of the tour, we couldn’t resist the opportunity to see her live. She is one of the few authors that I have come across that can adequately and succinctly describe the social chaos and personal upheaval that a person struggling with depression, or really any mental disorder, deals with on a regular basis. I have directed several friends and family who are dealing with depression and anxiety to Lawson’s books or blog.

That, and she is wicked funny.

Lawson read two chapters from her book: one long, one short. The first was the opening chapter of her book, which is about the words we use to describe mental disorder, that takes place through a conversation with Lawson and her mother. The second was about a dog food eating pharmacist.

I have heard Lawson’s voice through some of the videos she has posted on her blog or on CNN. Often when I read a book, I assign a voice to the narrator, either my own or someone I know who fits the tone of the story. Rarely is it the author’s. I listen to a number of podcasts so sometimes one of their voices emerges.  Reading Lawson’s books, and listening to her read her own book, I couldn’t imagine anyone else reading her stories. They are singularly hers and anyone else reading them would feel weird, like putting on someone else shoes. It put me at ease and for a while, I was able to forget that I was sitting in an uncomfortable folding chair with my own person struggles.

The Q&A is short but Lawson’s openness is evident in how she engages the audience in the Pearl room, honestly and unabashedly answering questions about how she dealt with emotional issues as a teenager or offering advice on how to introduce someone to your own struggles.

Before opening the room up to the book signing, she thanked the audience for their courage in making it to the event. Lawson writes about her struggles with depression and anxiety cultivating an audience who may themselves be agoraphobic. For many in the room, myself included, going to an event in a busy store, in downtown Portland is a victory. Lawson even made space for people who couldn’t stay due to mental or physical fatigue; you could leave your books with the staff and Lawson would sign them to be picked up the following day.   

There is something odd about waiting in line for someone to sign a book. The feeling is similar to when you are about to go on a date, or meeting someone you admire, or interacting with someone you don’t want to be a fuck up in front of. A messy ball of excited hopes and personal expectations that grips your guts while you stand there trying not stare at the person you are here to meet and creeping them out. A sensation I have felt before interviewing a subject for an article. For me time seems to dilate creating an odd sensation of hyper-awareness of everything that person is doing that is extinguished as soon as they say ‘Hi.’  

Fortunately, Lawson is lovely. As soon as it’s our turn, her smile puts us at ease. As with many of the people in line, Lawson even agrees to a picture. Although most wanted to have their picture taken with the author, Bo, my wife, wanted a picture of Lawson holding a sock she was working on. Lawson then takes a moment to sign our books; she even personalized our book, which was wonderful. 

Bo and I walked away hand in hand having spent a wonderful afternoon with an author we admired, looking forward to her next book and visit. I could go on at length about the fan community that she has formed and how, much like Amanda Palmer, she encourages them to participate in charities but I won’t. Instead, I encourage you to visit her blog, join in the community and watch Lawson’s next book take shape.