Jewcy Interviews: Julie Klausner

Wikipedia entries can be pretty hilarious.  The entry for Julie Klausner’s memoir, I Don’t Care About your Band, describes the stories in the book as "romantic foibles and sexual misadventures."  While it’s my duty to hype up the very talented Ms. Klausner, I feel pretty good about using that quote from the sometimes disputed, open-source encyclopedia. Since Wikipedia has done my job for me, I’ll just point out that Klausner’s book is easily one of the funniest books you will read all year.  Klausner holds nothing back, happily telling us about her "romantic foibles and sexual misadventures", and I think we are all better people for it. Before we talk about the book, I want to tell you that I’m a huge fan of Cat News. Thanks! Then you’ll appreciate that one time, I tried to see whether Smiley Muffin would eat a Combo, because I dropped one on the floor. You know how Combos sort of look like cat treats? Anyway, she sniffed it and pushed it with her paw, so it rolled away. And then she fell asleep. She’s been spending her retirement wisely, is the point of that story. So you’re Solomon Schechter alumni, huh? Indeed. I’m proud to announce to my fellow Schechter grads that Dr. Avi Nahumi has stopped wearing his toupee. I saw him a few weeks ago, under non-prurient circumstances, thank you very much. New York Magazine called I Don’t Care About Your Band, "lowbrow and brilliant", yet you have a Joan Didion quote in the book. Do you think your book could be described as "high lowbrow"? I’m always happy to be classified as lowbrow, because it makes me feel closer to John Waters. And it lets me write in a way that’s closer to the way I actually talk. There are a ton of really horrible books, movies, and television shows about women living in New York looking for love, sex, etc. Did you take that into consideration when you started writing what I believe is the best of that…eh…genre?  Like, was I thinking "I’m gonna set this genre on its ear? Watch out, world?" No, not at all. If anything, my book was more in response to the male litany of whiny stories about being dumped or rejected. Beta males griping about how hard it is to be a guy who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman who wanted to be his girlfriend if she fell out of the sky and didn’t even care how little he had his shit together or whether or not he ever intended on growing up. Also, I don’t mean to jump on your opinion of what I assume is the kind of chick lit that was produced after the success of "Sex & The City," because I don’t know too much from that world besides "SATC." But I do think that if you don’t respond to it, it’s because you *are* a guy, and it’s not really for you? Whereas the previously mentioned material about whiny guys asking for sympathy for what they think is just their extreme sensitivity, or for a fuck buddy/ bong sharing companion that may or may not become something more serious one day–I think all of those films and books and TV shows produced about those kind of guys are expected to appeal to both women and men. I know this is a common question, but you mention a few times in the book how awesome your parents are: were you at all apprehensive about showing them this book which discusses your sex life in pretty graphic detail? I told them not to read it. The part about "Snowballing" was pretty great. Is that the best term for a sexual practice? If not, what is? The ones you make-up, I think. Like the "Nestle Crunch Miniatures" or "The Dr. Michael Mancini." I feel like there’s a hint of anti-Brooklyn running through the pages of I don’t Care About Your Band. Is this true? Do you hate Brooklyn?  No, I don’t hate Brooklyn. I just hate jerks. And a lot of jerks live in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. That said, there are also plenty of jerks who live in all different places, and what’s more, there are all kinds of jerks! The world is a melting pot of jerkery, and it’s beautiful. On p. 63 you talk about an older guy you dated when you were a freshman in college. Is it wrong that I laughed at the part where you say "as he gently plowed my soft, eighteen year old body"? Should I feel like a creep? No, you should feel like a creep if you dog-eared page 63 (apparently), made sure nobody at your work was watching, and then took your copy into one of the men’s room stalls so you could pull a "Dr. Michael Mancini." You go on a date with a guy who worked in the porno industry. You expect to get laid, but your first date ends with a hug. Is that more awkward than any other hug after a first date? The conversation was what was awkward. He didn’t have a lot to say, go figs. So what’s next for you? I think I’m going to take a cab home today, today because it’s raining.