David Sedaris

By Joel Stein

David Sedaris' new book of essays is Me Talk Pretty Some Day.

Q. How did your reading go last night?

A. One woman asked me to sign her book while she was talking on her cell phone. I felt as if I was inconveniencing her.

Q. Which was more difficult: telling your father your book has a chapter about a giant turd or telling him you are gay?

A. I don't think my father read the book. But he'll listen to it on tape.

Q. Your sister Amy Sedaris stars in the TV show Strangers with Candy. How much do you worry about her?

A. She has a copy of The Joy of Sex on her coffee table. She thought it would be funny. If you went to visit somebody and they had that on their coffee table, you'd really wonder what was going on.

Q. What's the trick to getting your family to let you write about them?

A. I'll say to my dad, "This isn't really you. He looks like you; he says the exact same things that you say; he lives in your house--but it's not really you." Then when my father says, "I guess you're right," I just worry that he's getting really, really old.

Q. You live in Paris. Are people always telling you that you smell good?

A. That's one of those myths. Last summer I was on a train, and these Americans thought I was French. They said they thought I smelled, and I'd just taken a bath and my clothes were clean.

Q. I'm sure you're right, but you should know that you do kind of reek.

A. I have terrible body odor. I sweat horribly. I went there hoping I would fit in.

Q. Who's more macho: a straight French guy or a gay French guy?

A. A gay American guy. Here you can always tell who's gay. In Paris I can't. There, straight guys wear rubber jeans.

Q. You're lucky you have a boyfriend. You'd be making all kinds of mistakes.

--By Joel Stein