Lamott the Brave

Anne Lamott is incredibly brave to write what she does. In both "Thirst" and "The Aunties," she goes beyond the call of a writer and becomes vulnerable, exposing herself to us and revealing intimate thoughts in an upfront way that many, I'd generalize, just don't do very much--at least, not so publicly. Her approach to these very personal--though public, if you look at the commonality of them--issues is not raw, as it's buffered by humor and craft, but it's straightforward enough to still carry weight and emotion.

Even though I don't wear thigh-revealing swimsuits and I don't have a drinking problem, Lamott's approach to disclosing her own issues made it easy for me to identify with her, applying thoughts and traits of hers to some of mine on various other issues. I'm not entirely sure why this happens, but I'd love to know. Is she using some secret writing craft, some strategically-placed adjectives or well-chosen verbs that throw me into her shoes (or swimsuit)? Or perhaps it's not writing craft but witchcraft? It's possible, too, that I simply ate the right food before reading these chapters, and that my full tummy merged with themes that are just universal enough to make these chapters applicable to and about me.

Or, perhaps, she's just a good writer. Perhaps instead of trying to find secret formulas and shortcuts, I should read and write more. After all, don't most experienced writers tell us to do that?

To me, Lamott's brave and humorous writing not only makes for a pleasant and entertaining read, but goes beyond that to actually help those who do experience or have experienced what she has. I think it serves to let them know that they're not alone, that there's hope for change, and that it's okay to share. If an author can entertain, write well (for we all know entertaining books aren't necessarily well-written books) and do something good for people, I'd say they're more than successful.

Well done, Lamott.

-Alexander Hirata