Eight months ago I had no idea who Chelsea Handler was. All I knew, I had to fly across town from the LA Times Festival of Books home to shower the 100 heat off of me and then jet over to the Wiltern for an event with this person. And I had less than an hour to accomplish all of this. As I sell books and have to stay with them I seldom get to go watch the performer, which was exactly the case on this night. But something struck me as people walked bleary eyed into and out of the theater, looking like they had drunk the proverbial kool-aid. Something about this lady had people hooked, and judging by the title of her newest book, Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea, I would likely be it's next victim.
Sure enough I started tivoing her show and was quickly won over by her caustic charm and the constant referral to her alcoholism. Yes, I loved her from then on.
It has, however, taken me until this very day to actually read one of her books. They've taunted me from shelves, from boxes, from magazine articles for months now, and, being the OCD-in-a-weird-way person that I am, I felt I needed to read them in sequential order. Today, along with working entirely too much, I read the entirety of My Horizontal Life, Chelsea's first book about her life as a sexually liberated woman. Throughout the book people, including her father, call her a slut, but I'd like to think that she's just a woman who knows what she wants...sex, and lots of it.
The stories in My Horizontal Life had me laughing out loud in my favorite bar. They are witty, charming, and carry an underlying tone of vulnerability that perhaps Ms. Handler herself is unaware of. There's just something about Chelsea though, she calls it like it is and in this world, that's all we can ask for.
Happy Reading,
Julia
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