Sam Irby is 'Quietly Hostile'
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Alison Stewart: This is All Of It. I'm Alison Stewart, live from the WNYC Studios in Soho. Thank you for spending part of your day with us. Whether you're listening on the radio or live streaming or listening to this on-demand, I'm really grateful you're here.
On today's show, we'll continue marking Mental Health Awareness Month with a conversation about the upcoming Sound Mind Musical Festival with two of the artists taking part, Langhorne Slim and Hiss Golden Messenger. We have two great actors in two demanding roles. We'll talk to Tony-nominated actor Sean Hayes, who is starring in Good Night, Oscar, the true-ish story of pianist Oscar Levant, and we'll speak with actor Judd Hirsch, who is starring in a new film called iMordecai.
That is our plan. Let's get this started with some wit and wisdom, and occasional wisecracks from Samantha Irby.
[music]
The follow-up to Samantha Irby's New York Times bestselling book, Wow, No Thank You, is titled Quietly Hostile. That's Irby's self-description in an essay that asks us to imagine if she had a child, which she doesn't and doesn't plan on having. Irby writes, “Quietly hostile is how I would describe my public personality. I am mild-mannered and super polite, but just beneath the surface of my skin, my blood is electrified and I am one inconsiderate driver away from a full Falling Down-style emotional collapse.”
"I don't know how to teach a child not to seeth, and instead to develop a healthy coping and communication style because I do not know how to do that for myself," but Irby does know how to write about her feelings and her experiences from a near-death allergic reaction to how to look cool in front of teens.
Kirkus Reviews says of the book, "The narrative bursts with the compassion, insight, honesty, and wit that have made Irby a household name."
Tonight, Samantha Irby will be in conversation with Jazmine Hughes at St. Ann's. She'll be at Symphony Space on Wednesday, but she joins me now in studio. Nice to see you.
Samantha Irby: It's so good to see you. Thank you for having me.
Alison Stewart: The dedication page is very straightforward and simple. This book is dedicated to Zoloft. How did Zoloft make this book happen?
Samantha Irby: Well, I was diagnosed with OCD of all things within the last year, and my doctor put me on a lot of Zoloft which is great. I don't think I would have been able to work without it. I think the pandemic broke my brain a little bit and brought some habits and characteristics that were hidden to the surface. Zoloft has helped to smoothen those out [chuckles]. You'd really have to talk to people who are around me to see if it makes any difference to them, but I feel better.
Alison Stewart: Well, OCD can also really tire you out, because you're constantly dealing with the compulsion as well as the distraction from the compulsion.
Samantha Irby: Yes. My brain is just never quiet. If I'm awake, it's always running through a million things, and the Zoloft helps to turn the volume down, which is maybe all I need. I don't need to be cured. I just need for my interior monologue to be at a whisper instead of a scream.
Alison Stewart: You get very personal in parts of this book. How did you decide what was off-limits and what you were willing to talk about?
Samantha Irby: Off limits, usually, I don't say anything about anyone else without their permission. I'll meet new people, and they'll be like, oh, are you going to write about me, and I'm like, first of all, you're being awfully generous to yourself [laughs]. I don't think you're that interesting but also, no, I would always ask for people's permission. I try to tell no one's stories but my own, and I have this philosophy policy that if I wouldn't be okay with it being on the news, I should not put it in a book, because when you write a book, you spend the rest of your life with people coming up to you, talking to you about what's in that book. I don't want to be a person who's like, I know I wrote about it, but don't talk to me.
I do have some things that I wouldn't want to talk to people about, so I leave those out but everything else is fair game.
Alison Stewart: Who is the person who is your reader, that you give this to them before even maybe even gets to your editor, the person who you really trust and who's guiding you?
Samantha Irby: I have a couple of writing partners. One is a woman named Megan Stielstra, who is also an SAS, but she's a professor at Northwestern. She can give me both personal criticism and like this doesn't make sense from a grammatical perspective. I think she's one, I sometimes send things to my agent, but he's biased. He's always going to be like, this is great [laughs], because he wants me to keep working. I get like really protective, or I shouldn't even say protective. I can't get other people's voices out of my head.
If you say to me, this thing you're working on doesn't work, I'll never get over it. Usually, I just write, write, write, and then immediately send it to my editor. Then never think about it again until she sends it back.
Alison Stewart: My guest is Sam Irby. The name of the new book is Quietly Hostile. You have a chapter about the time right before the lockdown called The Last Normal Day. What stands out to you about the last normal day?
Samantha Irby: The fact that we were all so confused and had no idea what to do or who to listen to. I grew up in public schools and it was like, the president will take care of us and people will take care of us. Watching that collapse in real time was insane. Also just not knowing, do I wash my hands, where can I go, who can breathe on me. Those weeks when we didn't know when you're boiling your groceries because you don't know what's on the outside of the milk carton. That is the thing, just the confusion and how we were all just walking around filled with misinformation.
Alison Stewart: You know that you're preparing to leave Chicago, I think it was because you were working and you were going to head home and you were packing in a hurry and it all felt so frenzied. What did you learn about yourself looking back on that packing experience?
Samantha Irby: That I have a problem with buying things to surround myself with creature comforts. I'd been working in Chicago for two months, and I bought blankets, and they put us in this sterile corporate housing. I just bought so much stuff and I wish I wasn't like that. It would make things a lot easier if I could throw a couple of shirts in a bag and leave. It's always like, oh, I better take this fruit bowl that I bought. I better take these candles, and that is the thing I'm working on changing.
Alison Stewart: Would you also note that we as societies, people just started grabbing things, whether it made sense or not?
Samantha Irby: Yes. I didn't grab anything reasonable or helpful [laughs]. I stockpiled books, things to entertain myself. I was like hand sanitizer. Who needs that? Ship 100 books to my house, please. Not only am I a pack rat, but I don't even pack rat things you could use. I don't have any lighters or pocket knives, but I do have a lot of perfumes if you want to smell good as the world burns.
Alison Stewart: Did your writing practice change during COVID?
Samantha Irby: Yes, because my wife has two teenage children and she was home. They were home doing school, and I cannot write when I feel like people are moving and walking around. I did a lot of 10:00 PM to 3:00 AM writing, which wasn't really my practice before, but I don't know, I made it work. You read the book, you could tell me if I made it work but I tried.
Alison Stewart: Did you notice something about 10:00 PM to 3:00 AM writer Sam that's different from 9:00 AM to 3:00 AM?
Samantha Irby: Much more focused because I didn't want to wake anyone up. I don't want to tip off the dog that I'm moving around downstairs. I was super focused and like started. I didn't click on any of my 100 other tabs that I had opened. I was very focused. There's something about the middle of the night that feels like desperate in that you just got to get it done even if it's not due, and I thrive in that feeling of, it's late, I got to get it done, let's do it.
Alison Stewart: Do you think you'll continue with that late night running?
Samantha Irby: Yes. I'm in perimenopause so I'm up. [laughs] I'm up and sweating anyway so I may as well put that to you. [laughs] Yes, probably, probably.
Alison Stewart: My guest is Sam Irby. The name of the collection is Quietly Hostile. Sam will be at St. Ann's tonight with Jazmine Hughes and Wednesday at Symphony Space. The title of the book, Quietly Hostile, you lay out what could potentially go wrong if you had a child. You could write it could have bad teeth, it could be undisciplined and be quietly hostile. What works for you about being quietly hostile rather than just loudly hostile?
Samantha Irby: Well, I am deeply Midwestern.
Alison Stewart: You have a choice.
Samantha Irby: Yes. It's in my blood to smile politely while my organs are incinerating from rage. I'm too afraid of someone yelling at me to ever be loud. If someone yells at me, I just crumble and I never want to-- I don't have the spirit of someone who can like go back and forth with people. I'd much rather be mad, keep it inside, then go home and tell someone else like how mad I got because I don't-- I have never like really been in an argument. I'm not a loud fighter. I'll say nothing and then do something dirty behind your back. [laughs] You can't be sneaky when you're loud. I guess this is where I'm telling the world I'm sneaky. [laughs]
Alison Stewart: The chapter's actually about getting a dog because the title reads my firstborn dog, and it's hilarious because you get this dog who, shall we say the shelter's like, here you go, take him. No, no. You have to go through a lot of paperwork and a lot of interviews, they're like don't let the door get on the way out. We learn why. In the book, he has-- When did you realize this dog, shall we say would not be an easy dog?
Samantha Irby: First night. We get the dog from the shelter. They're like, great, bye, no fee, take him. We go to the pet store, we buy a crate and all this stuff. I worked in an animal hospital for 14 years so I know what to do and get. We got all this stuff. We get home, we start to have dinner and put him in a crate so that he doesn't bother the cats or run around or get into anything. Two minutes into the meal, he's screeching and his jaws are caught on the wire of the crate. That's when I knew, I was like we've made a horrible mistake. Now it's been three years. [laughs]
Alison Stewart: You have a two-page list of things that this dog, the dog's name is again?
Samantha Irby: Abe.
Alison Stewart: Abe. Let's read a couple of them. "He barks at everything. If the doorbell rings, he goes apoplectic. He stands in the corner of his indoor grass, but he doesn't pee there. He pees on the floor. He steals the cat food. If you leave for longer than he likes, he scratches paint off the door. He will not walk if it's raining. He commandeers every blanket for himself. He refuses to sleep in any of his beds at night, preferring his own bed. He barks at everything. His one trick is to shake, and he is bad at it."
Then down towards the book, I can't read the whole thing. "He's so effing bossy." How is the dog bossy?
Samantha Irby: Well, he is a chihuahua mix. He is loudly hostile. If you sit down, he's scratching at you, then climb up into your lap. He follows. I've never seen a dog, like he will entwine himself between your feet, so that you go where he wants you to go. We have based our entire schedule around his needs. I spend many, many dollars taking him to dog daycare three times a week so he can run. He is the boss of the house.
Alison Stewart: Yes, Abe the boss. My guest is Sam Irby. We're discussing her book of essays Quietly Hostile. After a quick break, we'll find out why the three words "I like it" can change your life. Sam will read a little bit from her book, as well as we'll discuss her experience writing TV for herself and for someone else. This is All Of It.
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This is All Of It. I'm Alison Stewart. My guest this hour is Sam Irby. Her new collection of essays is Quietly Hostile. There's this chapter that I think could actually put the self-help industry out of business. [laughs] It's such a good chapter. You just note that saying, I like it about things you like is liberating. You have, why are you listening to Justin Bieber? I like it. I can't believe you still drink milk. I like it. Why haven't you replaced your Blic car? I like it. Gross, you still use Instagram? I like it. What is liberating about I like it?
Samantha Irby: I would say as a person with lowbrow tastes that when you meet someone who fancies themselves, like sophisticated or they only watch like prestige things, if they ask you what you're into, they often talk down to you about it. That makes me feel very bad. Why do I have to feel bad about watching a show I didn't make?
Somebody liked it enough to give them millions of dollars to make it, and my knee jerk reaction used to just be to apologize like, oh, sorry, I'm brain dead. Then they win, and I hate to let anyone win, especially with something like that. It's just so freeing to say, oh, well, I like that because what are they going to say back to you? You just leave them standing there, and it's like, yes I like the-- Oh, Dr. Phil, you hate him. I mean I don't love Dr. Phil but you know [laughs]. It's just an easy way to end what could be an annoying, stressful conversation just to tell someone that you likes them.
Alison Stewart: Chicken tenders, I like those.
Samantha Irby: Yes. People do it all the time, why are you eating that? Why are you going there, and it's like feeling like we have to prove ourselves to regular people who don't pay us. I'm not doing that anymore. [laughs]
Alison Stewart: With that in mind, would you read your spirited defense of the Cheesecake Factory? This is one of the chapters from your book, Quietly Hostile, the first couple pages.
Samantha Irby: Yes.
"I went to the fancy mall 53 miles away, ostensibly, for a bar of fancy soap. I mean, it wasn't about the soap as much as it was about needing an excuse to spend a Saturday morning any place other than my house. But an overpriced chunk of glycerin was as good a reason as any.
I dragged my friend Emily with me because looking at stuff I can't afford alone makes me depressed. When we got there, the mall parking lot was surprisingly packed for a non-last-minute-holiday-shopping day, and I cursed my poor planning as I was forced to park several miles away from the closest door.
"I locked the car, and was nearly mowed down by a hoard of people rushing toward the gleaming mall doors. Dozens and dozens of people clawing at and climbing over one another to get to the entrance first, tearing at each other's clothes, teeth gnashing and dripping with thick saliva. I stopped a man as he threatened to knock the walker out of a frail woman's hands and said, "Dude? What in the world is going on here today?" He looked at me as if I'd suddenly sprouted a second head, then dove to his left to avoid a pair of sprinting college kids whose shoes pounded the ground so hard, sparks shot out from beneath them. “We finally got a Cheesecake Factory!” he shouted. “And today is the grand opening!”
"A freshly constructed Cheesecake Factory, the uncontested ruler of the reheated, prepackaged mall chains, opening only an hour-long car ride and a half a tank of gas away from where I live? I just so happened to want a block of twig and berries natural soap on the day of its grand opening. My karma was obviously right. I fought my way through the throngs of people in sensible gym shoes clustered around the door, dragging Emily's tiny limp body behind me, and made my way to the host who informed me that there would be a wait of several hours between me and a plate of Roadside Sliders.
"I watched frustrated packs of tweens sighing and grimacing at their watches, angrily punching orders like "mom get me NOW, k?" into their phones as they stormed away in a huff. Adults pressed their impatient faces against the brand-new cold cases, housing the "more than 30 legendary cheesecakes" as their toddlers wailed and tugged at their pant legs, begging them to just feed them the bag of Cheerios they'd left behind in the car.
"Was I really going to waste three-plus hours in the middle of a perfectly acceptable weekend outside a restaurant entrance crammed next to a cellphone-case kiosk with your aunts and uncles, waiting to get food I'd already eaten before? Yes, I was."
Alison Stewart: That was Samantha Irby reading from her new book of essays, Quietly Hostile. Along those lines of things that you like, that other people might have issue with, Dave Matthews Band. You say, "I love Dave Matthews for real, passionately and without shame." When did you discover the love of Dave Matthews?
Samantha Irby: 1993, sitting in the grass, outside the band room, my freshman year of high school. My friend, Adrian, gave me his first record under the-- oh, maybe it wasn't his first, but Under the Table and Dreaming. From that day forward, I have been a ride or die Dave Matthews fan.
Alison Stewart: You go through a few songs. Specifically, you start with If Only. Let's hear a little bit, for you.
[music - Dave Matthews Band: If Only]
You're already cheer-dancing.
[laughter]
Oh, it's like eight bars, and you're dancing.
Samantha Irby: Oh, I just them so much. Listen, I have reached my adult contemporary years, and I'm leaning in. I'm leaning in.
Alison Stewart: You know there's a new Dave Matthews album coming out.
Samantha Irby: I do.
Alison Stewart: End of the week.
Samantha Irby: I'm so excited. I might go see him even though he's playing outside. That's against my religion to watch a concert outside, but for him, I might.
Alison Stewart: Well, I pulled one of the new tracks. Have you heard Monsters?
Samantha Irby: Oh my God, I would like to hear it.
Alison Stewart: This is for you, Sam Irby.
[music - Dave Matthews Band: Monsters]
I'm getting a little mad approval.
Samantha Irby: [laughs] Yes. The thing about him-
Alison Stewart: He's moody Dave.
Samantha Irby: -and this is no shade, is that everything always kind of sounds the same, so it goes down-- [laughs]
Alison Stewart: It's very comforting in that way.
Samantha Irby: Yes. There's never going to be like, you know how you listen to music with headphones, and all of a sudden, you're like, "Oh my God." That's never going to happen with Dave. You're just going to be lulled either at a slow pace or at a slightly faster-than-slow pace. [laughs]
Alison Stewart: My guest is Sam Irby, author of The New York Times bestselling book, Wow, No Thank You. Her new collection is Quietly Hostile. Before I let you go, I have to ask you about your two TV experiences you write about in here. One is about having one of your books, your life story, turned into a television show. You wrote, "Let's talk about the most awkward thing I have ever been forced to do in my life, watch people pretend to be me while saying jokes that I wrote to my face."
Samantha Irby: Nothing is more humiliating than watching someone who found some clips of you on YouTube, trying to-- I mean, they were good actors, but, for me, watching someone do my hand motions and tried to talk like me was devastating.
[laughter]
It's the worst. Maybe not the worst thing that's ever happened to me but close. We were on Zoom, so they could see me seeing them. I couldn't even cover my head. It was awful.
Alison Stewart: That show didn't ultimately get made?
Samantha Irby: No, no one wanted my show about bathrooms and being a loser, which, honestly, is fine. When I started the process, it was seven years ago. Over those seven years, watching, one, how TV gets made, but two, how people react to TV that's been made, I don't know that I want to put my fictionalized counterpart on screen for people to pick apart. It's my life. The books, I don't have to read the reviews, but TV criticism is inescapable. I don't want to do that to myself anymore.
Alison Stewart: For folks who don't know, you've been writing on The Sex and the City-- It's not a sequel. It's a continuation series, And Just Like That..., and you write a lot about fans. What have you learned about fans through this process of writing on And Just Like That...?
Samantha Irby: First of all, that some people cannot distinguish between a real person and a character on TV. I was a diehard fan. I was like watching the show on VHS in '99, but I would never threaten someone's life because the characters made a decision I didn't like. I did not realize there were people who were as passionate as they are about these characters. Also, one thing that is very clear is that people don't understand how TV gets made. I am last on the call sheet. I am not making any decisions, like my father, HBO Max is making the decisions. [laughs]
Once I say something, it goes up a chain of a million people before it reaches an audience and people who wanted to hold me accountable. There's a scene in an episode I wrote, where Carrie is in a hospital, bed wearing pearls, and someone messaged me on Instagram and was like, "It's totally impractical." I was like, "She was on a sound stage in a fake hospital bed. Get yourself together. Come on." [laughs] Come on. People are unhinged, which I already knew, but I got to experience in a new way. No one knows anything about TV, including me, kind of. [laughs]
Alison Stewart: You know a thing or two.
Samantha Irby: I know a little bit.
Alison Stewart: You can write a TV episode or two. Supporting our strike friends, though. Fair wages for writers.
Samantha Irby: Yes.
Alison Stewart: Just have to say that loud.
Samantha Irby: I am officially on strike, too. I didn't have a job to strike from, so it's a lower-impact strike.
[laughter]
Alison Stewart: You're in a low-impact strike. You can see Sam Irby tonight at Saint Ann's in Brooklyn with Jazmine Hughes, and Wednesday at Symphony Space. The new collection of essays is called Quietly Hostile. Sam, thanks for coming to the studio.
Samantha Irby: Thank you for having me, Alison. This was a dream.
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