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Lets be clear, this is not a memoir specifically about J. D. Salinger, nor another sordid tale of having had an affair with him (thank goodness)–this is a memoir of a young woman working at his literary agency in the mid 1990’s.

Alright I can hear your yawns from here, but I’m always interested in the inner workings of the publishing industry and so I decided to read this memoir by Joanna Rakoff.

It’s the mid 1990’s and Joanna is 23 years old, and much like in The Devil Wears Prada, she really has no experience or interest in publishing but is thrilled to land an “assistant” position at a literary agency – referred to as “The Agency”.  This is one of those classy but underpaid positions that presumably one can brag about at dinner parties.  Ms. Rakoff has never read anything by Salinger and she thinks when agency staff refer to “Jerry”, their star client, they mean Jerry Seinfield.  In fact “Jerry” is their code name for J. D.  (Jerome David) Salinger, the notoriously reclusive author.

This is an old-school literary agency.  Here is a world of richly carpeted offices, no overhead florescent lighting — just shaded lamps, messengers, martini lunches and book-shelved lined hallways.  Computers are only whispered about by the staff.

Joanna is given strict orders to never give out any information on Salinger and the agency must protect his privacy at all costs.  Joanna’s main job is to answer Salinger’s many fan letters with a simple but curt form letter:

“Dear ___________
Many thanks for your recent letter to J.D. Salinger. As you may know, Mr. Salinger does not wish to receive mail from his readers. Thus, we cannot pass your kind note on to him. We thank you for you interest in Mr. Salinger’s books.

Best,  The Agency”

Her boss insists that Joanna type these letters out individually on a Selectric typewriter (using carbon paper) in order to give the fans a sense that an actual agency person has written back to them.  Joanna must also answer her boss’s phone and if “Jerry”calls she is to keep it short and take a detailed message.

Joanna’s personal life is a mess, she lives with a ghastly boyfriend in a run-down apartment with no heat or a kitchen sink (?).  She has, for no explanation, left the guy she really loves and he fled to California.  Her parents have presented her with all her college bills unexpectedly unpaid and used her credit cards to rack up debt that Joanna must some how pay down.  She’s broke financially and in her heart, so the agency is her only solace as Joanna is a lover of books, an avid reader and an aspiring poet.

There’s this lovely quote

 On authors: The strange wonder of powerful writing, engaged in like some act of reflective devotion, and then, sent out, as on the wind, to find some home with unknown readers who in turn receive this revelation and transformation. Literature not as `escape’, literature as engagement.

It’s fun when Joanna steers away from the standard form letter and tries writing personal letters to the Salinger fans – with disastrous results.  She hopes to become an agent and dips into the agency slush pile, finds an unknown author and tries to get her published.  Also in the end, Joanna actually meets Salinger when he make a rare appearance at the agency offices.

That, my friends is about all that was interesting about this memoir. I’ve just saved you the chore of reading it yourselves.   I did find some interesting parts about the inner workings of a literary agency – especially the care and feeding of Salinger himself.    The grand event of finally getting one office computer for everyone to share was amusing and there’s some sly literary name dropping.   This memoir covers a entire year of Ms. Rakoff’s life and it felt equally long to make it through this slow and overly-detailed story.  One of the professional reviewers mentioned that this memoir started out as a much shorter magazine story and perhaps it should have stayed in that form.

Advanced review copy provided by Alfred A. Knopf

Square Feet: 84. Possessions: 305.*

(*This headline is from the NY Times review – I had to swipe it.)

January is my time for sorting through clothes and books, cleaning out the freezer and diving into those mystery boxes under the stairs.   By necessity, we are already fairly simplified given our 1,100 sq. ft row house  — but after reading this inspirational memoir — we got nothing on Dee Williams.  

Ms. Williams decided to build an eighty-four-square-foot house on wheels, by herself — as a way to start building a simpler more meaningful life. 

This authentic memoir tells of her challenges both building-wise and health-wise.  She is not an experienced builder, but knows her way around tools, so she ventures ahead after meeting and studying others in the “tiny house” movement.  It’s not enough that she is dealing with a newly diagnosed heart condition and is often disabled and hospitalized, she also experiences grimace-worthy mishaps.  She glues her hair into the siding, almost shears off her ear when some plywood catches on an earring, tries to secure the roof (in flip flops!) and falls from her sleeping loft when the ladder shifts out from under her.

But beyond the Three-Stooges-like mishaps, this is a book to inspire.  How can you not be impressed (and perhaps even envious) of someone who can list everything she owns on one sheet of paper (the handwritten list is reproduced in the book).  Also enviable, Ms. Williams can clean her entire house in ten minutes and her monthly bills run approximately eight dollars.  Granted, she is living in a friend’s back yard and using this friends water, laundry and shower.  But Ms. Williams has her own kitchen (one burner),  her own toilet (compostable) and a sleeping loft with a view of the stars – risky ladder notwithstanding.

I was fascinated at Ms. Williams perseverance in the face of many hurdles — obstructive city codes, a newly prescribed oxygen contraption that meant snaking a breathing tube from a outside generator into her house, and an aging dog that she carries up and down the sleeping loft ladder.  But she remains positive and loving throughout. 

Happily, the author is also quirky and likeable, she still lusts after things she doesn’t need at Target (I have the same problem, I blame the hypnotic bulls-eye logo), she delights in fun underwear and prefers flip flops to shoes.  There is also a quiet soulfulness throughout, the reader is aware that Ms. Williams has a degenerative disease.  She writes with a quiet grace about her newly acquired time to savor every moment — as in this quote.

I stumbled into a new sort of ‘happiness’, one that didn’t hinge on always getting what I want but rather, on wanting what I have. It’s the kind of happiness that isn’t tied so tightly to being comfortable (or having money and property), but instead is linked to a deeper sense of satisfaction – to a sense of humility and gratitude, and a better understanding of who I am in my heart. I found a certain bigness in my little house – a sense of largeness, freedom, and happiness that comes when you see there’s no place else you’d rather be.

This book could have used some strong editing, it does ramble off the tracks, but it should provoke all of us to think on the question “how much is enough?”.  Given America’s self storage business is a $25-billion a year industry, Ms. Williams experiences are an inspiration. This book is not so much of a “how-to” guide but a “why to” memoir.   While not everyone (not me – see below) is suited to such an extremely tiny house, this book will make you contemplate the “too much stuff” syndrome  — why not simplify, declutter and live smaller?

N.B. Living in such a small space alone may be one thing, but can you image two people in 84 square feet?  I’m definitely not a candidate.  No way I’m making the middle of the night climbs up and down a sleeping loft ladder, I’d be lost without my book collection, I’d sorely miss my tea pots and at the very least — my husband and I already experience too much “togetherness” now we’re both retired — so count me out …. but I must go now and clean out a closet or two.  

Advanced reading copy provided by Penguin Group via NetGalley.