“I Was Told There Would Be Cake”.
Or How Sloane Crosley Gave Chick-Lit A Good Rep.
I first found out about
Sloane Crosley through a piece she wrote for Elle UK 3 or 4 years back, about turning 30. I was blown away at how someone could approach such a worn-out, unoriginal and saturated subject with such a fresh and hilarious take. I tore out that article, had it hanging over my desk for a couple of years but, as the ink started to fade, I’ve since taken it down and now keep it in one of my many memory-filled shoe-boxes and will probably hold on to it until it crumbles into dust.
I then found out that Crosley, a literary-publicist-come-writer, once dubbed
New York’s most popular publicist, had just released her very first book,
I Was Told There’d Be Cake, a collection of 15 essays which quickly became a New York Times bestseller.
Very much like Seinfeld, I Was Told There’d Be Cake is a book about nothing and everything that happens to young New Yorkers, from hateful diva bosses to being locked out twice, on the same day, from different flats, without forgetting an embarrassing secret My Little Pony collection.
I agree: it isn’t exactly ground-breaking stuff. You could fill an Olympic stadium with all the books written by witty New Yorkers telling tales of unpleasant jobs and unfortunate apartments. And, truth be told, I Was Told There’d Be Cake resonates best with women between 20 and 40 tops.
But, still, Crosley stands out from the crowd. Repeatedly compared to both Nora Ephron and David Sedaris’ ironic and self-pillorying yet laugh-out-loud funny styles, critics and reader alike raved about the book, Crosley’s mordant sense of humour and, most importantly, her brilliant writing. She makes it seem effortless and simple when, as every knows, real quality and talent are neither.
Plus, I Was Told There’d Be Cake has a very portable and beautiful edition by Riverhead and, with only 230 pages, it’s the perfect commute book. You’ll be sure to start off your day with a big smile: it’s not so much as reading a book but more like having a laugh with a friend.
I must admit that deep down I envy Crosley and, basically, want her life: she interned at the New Yorker; she’s dabbled in pretty much everything, from essays, interviews to fiction and criticism which have appeared in The New York Times, The Guardian, Vogue, the Village Voice and the BlackBook where she’s been a contributing editor and columnist; she’s a publicist for Vintage for the likes of Toni Morrison and Jonathan Lethem … And has notoriously beautiful, shiny hair.
Her sophomore book “How Did You Get This Number” was released in paperback earlier this year and is also very much worth a read, particularly the odd episode with clowns right here in my hometown, Lisbon, Portugal. She tells Craig Ferguson all about it:
