Writers Who Inspire Us: The Relatability of Samantha Irby
"If there is a cream strong enough to counteract the existential dread woven through every cell in my body, I’d buy it." - Samantha Irby, Wow, No Thank You.
Samantha Irby is a writer from Evanston, Illinois. She is the author of three collections of personal essays and, like many contemporary writers, has been writing on numerous blogs for the better part of fifteen years. Irby's most recent collection, Wow, No Thank You., debuted at #1 on the New York Times' Nonfiction Bestseller List, which prompted her to say this to her publisher: "Being #1, after building a career writing about #2s, is incredible."
I came to Irby's work not by picking up a copy of her book but, rather, by reading her Instagram captions. Irby is friends with Lindy West and Roxane Gay, among other writers I already knew and loved, so I’d heard of her, but I had yet to read her work. When she spoke with Raven Leilani about Leilani's merited debut novel, Luster, I found myself on Irby's Instagram, and then her Substack, and before I knew it I was reserving a copy of her new essay collection on my library holds list. I was instantly gripped by her conversational tone and candor and, especially, how she writes about relatable feelings of self-doubt, denial, guilt, and even existential dread, in a riotously funny way.
Irby's work, from her books to her TV writing to her blogging ventures, serves as a walking example of the "write what you know" rule. Even though what she inherently "knows" can range from the unpleasant to the traumatic, she continues to write, and to allow others to relate to her most personal anecdotes. Before finding her work, I didn't know where to look in terms of memoirs and essays that made light of horrifyingly embarrassing life stories, but when I found Wow, No Thank You., it felt like finding a secret, priceless jewel.
Making light of one's own issues is not, in itself, virtuous: the distinction lies in how Irby accomplishes this. Anyone can describe their pitfalls in life, but only an artist with talent and dedication can use their experiences to create art. The breadth of description Irby uses comes naturally to her, which can be read in her blogs and essays alike, and the dedication she's shown to, as she says, "building a career writing about #2s," pleasantly disrupted all my preconceived notions about personal essays and nonfiction as a genre.
Since I came to her books in a backwards way (I read her most recent collection before reading her first two), I was extremely struck by some of the poignant moments in her first collection, Meaty. There is depth to the essays in Wow, No Thank You., but in "My Mother, My Daughter," Irby recounts the experience of losing both her parents at a young age, and being responsible for her mother's medical care at the end of her life. While the questions she asks at the end of this essay make the pull quote at the top of this article about existential dread sound like a too-snappy punchline, it's clear that, in Irby's case, her commitment to dry humor is what has allowed her to heal throughout her adulthood. In the process of grieving my own mother's death, I felt comforted by the way Irby carries the lessons her mother taught her for the rest of her life, while also being able to reckon with that loss.
As I've read through Irby’s books over the last nine months, it's been very calming to remember that, not only does no one person "have it all figured out," but also that there's still the opportunity to make great work even in states of upheaval. It has been beyond illuminating to move from lamenting about what I'd change about myself to taking my negative traits in stride as I become more of a "real adult" and, for me, Irby's work has been instrumental to that growth. At the end of "My Mother, My Daughter," Irby asks, "When do I get the manual on how to be an adult, or what everything means?" While we may not get a concrete answer from her, or anyone, to this wholly rhetorical query, Irby's essays, blog posts, and social media dalliances remind us that existence, while occasionally dreadful, is at its core full of hilarity, if you know where to look.
RECOMMENDED READING
Collections
We Are Never Meeting in Real Life.
Essays
The Worst Friend Date I Ever Had
Social Media/Blogs
About Ellie Musgrave
Ellie Musgrave is a writer and amateur roller skater living in Brooklyn, NY.
