The Books I Couldn’t Leave Without
Cathy Belben    
from The Chuckanut Reader        

I left home in June for Los Angeles, where a series of fortunate events led me into a new career as a writer for the television show Veronica Mars. I was timid about departing Bellingham after thirty-seven years, but I’d been telling my parents since second grade that I wanted to be a writer, so it seemed ridiculously uncourageous to refuse the best chance I had to fulfill that goal. So I left, packing in my car just the basics I’d need in my furnished apartment—computer, clothes, and, of course, a box of books.

Choosing which books to take from the hundreds I’ve collected challenged me. Did I want entertainment or inspiration? Reference or recreation? I settled for this:  books that I knew I would read again; books I considered as much my friends as the human companions whose photos I packed. Books I could consult regularly for relief and humor and a homey dose of familiarity. Books I couldn’t imagine living without. I knew I’d need the highlighted, underlined, and post-it-note tagged copies to remind me of my small-town, librarian life and keep me in touch with my self. I reserved space in the car and wedged my Rubbermaid bin in the back before I rolled out of town.  Here’s what I put in it:

The Party, After You Left by Roz Chast.
Roz Chast has established her reputation as a prolific cartoonist for the New Yorker since she began submitting her work to the magazine in 1978. She has an intelligent, quirky gag for almost every ordinary situation—one of my favorites shows the geologic strata of items piling up in a kitchen sink. Thumbing through Chast’s books, revisiting her bizarre and amazingly unique way of looking at the world reminds me to think outside the box—the idiot box, and the Type-A, gotta-do-things-this-way trap I think myself into.

Kiss My Tiara: How to Rule the World as a Smart-Mouth Goddess by Susan Beth Gilman.Gilman’s  book is a snarky, intelligent guide to life perfect for women pursuing their goals independently; “a guardian angel,” she writes,  “perched on our shoulders, helping us to stand tall, be ourselves, and not take any $#!& Never mind ‘self—esteem’ and ‘self—help.’ We want a bad attitude, thank you, and a good set of power tools.” Starting over, on my own, in a city I don’t know has me occasionally feeling stressed, insecure, and freaked out. Thankfully, I have Gilman’s mental survival kit to help me maintain my courage and sense of humor despite the challenges of this city and job.

Everything Bad is Good for You by Steven Johnson
Just before I sold my librarian soul to Hollywood, I picked up Johnson’s book, the premise of which is that pop culture entertainment—primarily video games and television—have become increasingly sophisticated over the years. Johnson argues that many video games and TV programs require not more thinking or better thinking than, say, reading, but that they necessitate a different kind of equally important, complex thought essential for functioning in the modern era. This is exactly what I need to assuage my guilt about leaving a job where I tried increase kids’ literary abilities for one where I am, ostensibly, contributing to the loss of those very skills. It’s nice to have some back-up for the idea that stories, in whatever form they take, can help us think, make decisions, and solve problems that plague humankind. At least that’s what I tell myself when I go to work each day

Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman.
If I had more room in my car, I’d take this and Klosterman’s first book, Fargo Rock City, because it’s hilarious (my favorite line: “‘Photograph’ by Def Leppard is the best Journey song ever written”) and because it reminds me of my 80’s coming-of-age in Bellingham. However, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs is a better re-read simply because of the variety of topics. Re-reading Klosterman’s essays is like having an espresso-fueled midnight debate with the smartest, funniest friend I miss the most.

New and Selected Poems by Mary Oliver
In “When Death Comes,” Oliver writes, “When it’s over, I want to say: all my life/I was a bride married to amazement. /I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms./When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder/ if I have made of my life something particular, and real./ I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,/or full or argument.  I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”  I have posted these lines in a dozen places as reminders that whatever I’m giving up—the comfort and peace of my hometown, a career and a dog I loved, a cadre of wonderful friends—I was seizing a chance not to have simply visited the world, but to have embraced its possibilities, no matter what shape they take.

Body-for-Life by Bill Phillips.
Hollywood is both incredibly body-conscious and full of wonderful opportunities for culinary decadence—there’s a sushi bar on every corner, every restaurant in town delivers, and the Veronica Mars office has a fully-stocked kitchen. There are a billion things to keep a person busy besides exercise. I keep Body-for-Life on my bedside table and read it nightly. Phillips’ program involves sensible nutrition and a precise combination of weight-lifting and cardiovascular exercise, but what I like most about it is how it emphasizes developing a positive attitude and mental strength in combination with a fit, healthy body. Inspirational stories about successful Body-for-Lifers fill the book and motivate me to eat and live healthfully, despite the temptations surrounding me.

Naked by David Sedaris.
I brought along CDs of every one of Sedaris’ books, which I listen to on nights I’m not studying old episodes of Veronica Mars or walking around my block, marveling at the stars in the sidewalk. Sedaris has an amazing ability to translate mundane experiences into insightful, hilariously detailed stories that are specific in their reference, but universal in their appeal. My favorites are “The Drama Bug” and “Cyclops,” in which he recalls his early fascination with the theater and his father’s ominous warnings about dangerous household activities. I resort to Sedaris’ strange humor when I need to take myself less seriously. It always works.

Rats Saw God by Rob Thomas
I’m in Hollywood because ten years ago, I wrote a letter to author Rob Thomas after reading his novel, Rats Saw God. His voice, and the voice I was attempting to use in my own writing, seemed eerily similar. He agreed—and we became friends. Over the years, he read my stories, we stayed in touch via email, and when his show Veronica Mars, was picked up, he asked me to join his staff. I agreed, and here I am. I keep Rats Saw God with me as a reminder of how friendship—and books—can change our lives.

Cathy Belben is a Bellingham resident who recently spent a year inHollywood, writing for the show Veronica Mars (Tuesdays at 9 p.m. on CW). Her writing has appeared in The Chuckanut Reader, The Bellingham Weekly, Entertainment News Northwest, School Library Journal, and numerous other publications. She can be reached at cbelben@comcast.net.