My mother’s generation had Erma Bombeck. Lucky Get X’ers, we get Helen Ellis.
I first became a member of the cult of Helen in 2019 with “Southern Lady Code,” and followed that up with “American Housewife” and “Bring Your Baggage and Don’t Pack Light.” She is so so so smart. Witty. Self-deprecating. And clearly has been living in my closet because from the get go, because she puts pen to paper the very thoughts knocking around my skull.
Case in point — her latest book of essays, “Kiss Me in the Coral Lounge,” begins with what feels like a play-by-play of me and my husband every night. I was literally a page into “My Husband Snores and Yours Will Too” when I began reading it out loud to my spouse … the earplugs. The CPAP. The nudging. And yes, the Breathe-Right strips, which, Helen, I have to tell you, were a catastrophic failure last week on vacation when he used one on a sunburnt nose. I told him he needed to come up with a better backstory for the wound, like, “I fought off a mime in Paris” or “The Tower of London has really low ceilings.”
Ellis’ notes to the cat sitter? Now all I need to do is print that out the next time we leave town. Her essay on what kind of couple she and her husband are? Right there with you — we aren’t that couple either. Her pandemic-induced zest for improving her green thumb? That was me with bread.
From sticker obsessions to death plans, first kisses to marriage contracts that actually make sense (“While watching TV as a couple, Mr. agrees to fast-forward, mute and narrate the ‘gross tuff’ for Mrs. in exchange for Mrs. rubbing his feet in the presence of housewives, house hunters, haunted house hunters, hoarders or 1970s sitcom stars turned celebrity chefs.”), Ellis can take just about any subject and make it more relatable than your mother.
A perfect-length read for a long night or a short weekend, a break between heavy novels, a lollipop for the soul for just about any woman in her 50s. Pick this up starting June 13 at the closest independent bookseller near you.


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