Books like How To Be A Public Author — picked by fans

When the society, culture, and world we live in become unrecognizable and untenable, the genre of literature that best quells anxiety is satire. As the author of Satire State, I believe laughter is essential to survival and sanity. The tightly woven fabric of a society unravels slowly and then suddenly through a consecutive series of multiple actions by malignant forces. All the while, historical memory is gradually erased, and the new fabric is the only one recognized. Satire is the only way to chronicle the malignancy and force people to think hard. The following five books of satire that address urgent issues made me laugh, cringe, think, and mutter “too real” under my breath.

When the society, culture, and world we live in become unrecognizable and untenable, the genre of literature that best quells anxiety is satire. As the author of Satire State, I believe laughter is essential to survival and sanity. The tightly woven fabric of a society unravels slowly and then suddenly through a consecutive series of multiple actions by malignant forces. All the while, historical memory is gradually erased, and the new fabric is the only one recognized. Satire is the only way to chronicle the malignancy and force people to think hard. The following five books of satire that address urgent issues made me laugh, cringe, think, and mutter “too real” under my breath.

When the society, culture, and world we live in become unrecognizable and untenable, the genre of literature that best quells anxiety is satire. As the author of Satire State, I believe laughter is essential to survival and sanity. The tightly woven fabric of a society unravels slowly and then suddenly through a consecutive series of multiple actions by malignant forces. All the while, historical memory is gradually erased, and the new fabric is the only one recognized. Satire is the only way to chronicle the malignancy and force people to think hard. The following five books of satire that address urgent issues made me laugh, cringe, think, and mutter “too real” under my breath.

When the society, culture, and world we live in become unrecognizable and untenable, the genre of literature that best quells anxiety is satire. As the author of Satire State, I believe laughter is essential to survival and sanity. The tightly woven fabric of a society unravels slowly and then suddenly through a consecutive series of multiple actions by malignant forces. All the while, historical memory is gradually erased, and the new fabric is the only one recognized. Satire is the only way to chronicle the malignancy and force people to think hard. The following five books of satire that address urgent issues made me laugh, cringe, think, and mutter “too real” under my breath.

I fell in love with magical realism and stories that have a sense of whimsy after hearing my grandparents tell stories of their lives. They always embellished a bit, making a simple detail of a bread line or a penny found on the ground feel massive. Then I read Tom Robbins’s Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates. I didn’t understand at the time that the light touches of magic or moments that felt magical, even if not truly enchantment, were uplifting in stories both light and dark. I quickly fell under the spell and have placed elements of magic or whimsy in my own writing ever since. 

I’ve made my way in the world as a writer, mostly of TV and movies, mostly of comedy of one stripe or another. As a consumer, though, I’ve always been more drawn to cops and robbers than to material designed primarily to make me laugh. Then, in my 50s, I made an unexpected turn to detective fiction, with a series shaped like traditional, serious mysteries but with satirical undertones and, hopefully, plenty of smiles along the way. My new career made me start thinking more attentively about how comedy and crime worked together, how my work built on what came before, and how it differed from it.

As a former graduate student who holds an MA and Ph.D in English with a Creative Writing emphasis, but also as the child of immigrants and the first in my family to go to college, I love when writers deflate the pretensions of academia. I didn’t grow up around formally educated people so I can relate to the imposter syndrome some of the characters in these books experience. I don’t know who recommended Lucky Jim to me, but that book began my infatuation with the genre of academic satires or campus novels, of which there are many others. 

Some creative writers believe that stories carry a responsibility. The duty to entertain, of course, but also to educate, challenge and question the character(s) of the most powerful, the wealthiest. I am one of them. As an author, screenwriter, stage, and film actor, I’ve always believed in using stories as a platform to convey positively disruptive ideas, to highlight potentially destructive ideologies, to combat imperialism, expansionism, racism, and other toxic practices while delivering a neutral message devoid of political affiliations and emotional responses with no logical ground. Not unlike my latest novel, America is a Zoo, I am the product of a passionate soul, one who’s apolitical by design, yet political by conviction.

I have always been fascinated with various myths, folklore, legends, and history. And I’ve always liked sharp humor and witty punchlines. Considering I have read all the Slavic fairy tales and historical books, I thought that presenting the rich and extensive history of that region through the eyes of a baker is the natural thing to do. So I tried to retell the rich folklore of the Slavic realm as an absurd baking journey through magic, empire-building, and baking the perfect loaf. It does add spice and flavor to the otherwise violent history of the region. Folklore and history should be fun and entertaining to read, not dry and academically challenging. 

When I voyaged into the ancient world in the readings of my youth, it led me to realize that the gay-straight divide in modern perceptions of sexuality and relationships is an artifice. It was constructed by the conceit of the ascetic religions that the only legitimate purpose of sex is the production of children within a sanctified marital relationship. In Antiquity, the divide followed a more natural course between the groups who were the sexually active partners (mainly adult men) and those who were sexually passive (mainly women, youths, and eunuchs). My hope is to disperse some of the confusion that the obscuration of this historical reality has caused.