David Sedaris
David Sedaris
David Raymond Sedarisis an American humorist, comedian, author, and radio contributor. He was publicly recognized in 1992 when National Public Radio broadcast his essay "SantaLand Diaries". He published his first collection of essays and short stories, Barrel Fever, in 1994. His next five essay collections, Naked, Holidays on Ice, Me Talk Pretty One Day, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, and When You Are Engulfed in Flames, became New York Times Best Sellers. In 2010, he released a collection...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth26 December 1956
CountryUnited States of America
I like books on tape, and will listen to just about anything.
The humor section is the last place an author wants to be. They put your stuff next to collections of Cathy cartoons.
But most good movies have a gun in them.
The difference between the first time I read something and the tenth time I read something is generally pretty profound. Even if the script is the same, just the way that I read it is different.
I cry all the time when I watch 'Glee' because I don't know if it's satire or melodrama and that makes me feel like the writing is aware of itself, and that makes it OK to cry.
But I'm a humorist. I'm not a reporter, I never pretended to be a reporter.
As a foreigner in London, I like that there are so many other foreigners.
In my dream world gay people in America would get the right to marry, and not a one of them would use that right.
I'm not a reporter but the 'New Yorker' treats everyone like a reporter.
Also, I used to think that one day I might get someone to iron my shirts, but the truth is I really like doing them myself.
Speed eliminates all doubt. Am I smart enough? Will people like me? Do I really look all right in this plastic jumpsuit?
In order to get the things I want, it helps me to pretend I’m a figure in a daytime drama, a schemer. Soap opera characters make emphatic pronouncements. They ball up their fists and state their goals out loud. ‘I will destroy Buchanan Enterprises,’ they say. ‘Phoebe Wallingford will pay for what she’s done to our family.’ Walking home with the back half of the twelve-foot ladder, I turned to look in the direction of Hugh’s loft. ‘You will be mine,’ I commanded.
The interesting thing about gay people is that you can't really put on a wedding without them. They're the ones who make your dress, and do the flowers and the catering. They've toiled in the wedding industry all these years but were never allowed to do it themselves.
I gave my mother a matching set [of mugs] for Christmas, and she accepted them as graciously as possible, announcing that they would make the perfect pet bowls. The mugs were set on the kitchen floor and remained there until the cat chipped a tooth and went on a hunger strike.