I received Samantha Irby’s essay collection, We are Never Meeting in Real Life, as a birthday present from my husband. I think that he figured that he could never go wrong with presents involving both books and cats, with Irby’s cover sealing the deal. He was right.

An afternoon was lost, as I snuggled under a blanket and immersed myself in Irby’s essays. Her writing reminds me of one of my favorite authors, David Sedaris. Like Sedaris, Irby has a very unique and strong voice, that grabbed my attention immediately. I treated her essays like a bag of potato chips; just one more, until the whole thing was finished!

Like Sedaris, Irby has a knack for finding humor in dark places. Her essays tackle subjects such as family estrangement, failed relationships, and health issues. Like Irby, I lost both of my parents at a fairly young age and have had to navigate being an “adult orphan.” Although our situations are different, I could relate to her on this topic. It’s a situation that I do not share with any of my friends that are in my age group. I also found some of her anxieties and social issues to be similar to mine. Her sense of humor adds levity to these sensitive topics.

One of my favorite essays was Thirteen Questions to Ask Before Getting Married. In this essay, Irby answers questions from New York Times quiz that her wife, Mavis, sent to her shortly before they wed. It’s filled with somewhat generic questions that people should consider prior to marrying and Irby answers them with raw honesty. She is answering them from the perspective of someone who is comfortable with who they are and what they need. It made me think of my own marriages and how different my second marriage was from my first. When I met my current husband, I was in my mid-thirties and I knew what I wanted and needed. This was not at all the case with my first marriage at twenty-six. I’m not saying that young people can’t have very successful marriages, just that I didn’t. I needed to know myself better and to enter the union knowing what I needed and how to help my partner with what they needed.

Mavis also has children and Irby does not. I’ve never wanted my own children, but I became a stepmom with my second marriage. It’s such a mix of emotions, luckily mostly wonderful, but certainly something that I had never sought out. I could relate to Irby navigating this new territory. Being a stepmom is a joy and challenge, which Irby writes about with care and humor.

I recommend We are Never Meeting in Real Life: Essays and I look forward to reading Irby’s other works. She’s a talent!