Cheer Yourself Up With The Book of Awesome

When I was perusing the shelves at the bookstore that has replaced the one where I now work, I happened upon a book whose title jumped out at me: The Book of Awesome. The word “awesome” particularly stood out, since it was printed in a bright array of rainbow colors, and I started flipping through it and found myself agreeing with many of the headings.

I eventually learned that this nearly 400-page-long book was culled from the blog 1000awesomethings.com, one of those blogging success stories that makes so many folks who have written online flush a bit with jealousy. Neil Pasricha started his blog with a readership consisting of just his parents, and his intention was merely to create a little oasis of pick-me-ups for himself after a long day in the office, something to counteract all the bad news assaulting him wherever he looked. He had no idea that it would go viral, but the blog, which started in 2008, gained a readership of millions.

Still, it’s hard to begrudge a guy his popularity when most of his posts are just so smile-inducing. Some of the ones in this book have been shortened, while others only contained a few words to begin with. I like those short and sweet ones, but Pasricha’s writing style is accessible enough that the entries spanning two or three pages make for equally enjoyable reading. While there’s a certain amount of snark that sneaks into several of his observations, the stronger impression is of gratitude and enthusiasm. Reading this book just may make you more aware of life’s little pleasures and more open to seeking them out.

Pasricha’s book is a blend of observational humor and warm positivity. A hint of nostalgia peeks through many of the entries as he explores the joys of childhood or young adulthood, usually while pointing out that such sources of happiness – the sound of scissors cutting construction paper, the smell of fresh crayons, the art of a carefully constructed couch fort – are available to people of any age. Reflections on the sweetness of intergenerational dancing at wedding receptions and the wistful pleasure of remembering departed friends tug gently at the heartstrings, while some, like the entry on the joy of handwritten mail, might serve as a catalyst for improving someone else’s day.

A lot of the entries are more on the silly side, but I still found myself nodding my head. Yes, I always get a charge out of popping bubble wrap. Yes, it’s a rush to shout out the answer to the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune well before the contestants figure it out. I love stepping into the neat boot holes that traverse an otherwise pristine snowy landscape and figuring out what movie I remember a particular actor from (a task, I might add, made immeasurably easier through the wonders of IMDb).

Naturally, there are also a few entries I disagree with. For instance, the smell of both frying onions and ground coffee makes me gag, and I derive no pleasure from observing public flatulence. Still, I can relate to the vast majority of the entries here, and reading them makes me want to compile my own list of things that are awesome. While it took a while to get used to, I also like the way he bolds key words to draw the eye more readily to them. I imagine this has something to do with catering to online readers who tend to skim, but it works well on the page too.

The name and tone of the book, along with many of the references he drops, suggest that Pasricha is around my age, someone who soaked up hours of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as a kid and never quite abandoned the 80s lingo. If LOST’s mellow cheermeister Hurley were to start up a blog, I imagine it might look a lot like what Pasricha has done. It’s just a feel-good collection designed to get you to stop and enjoy all the tiny moments of happiness that occur when you least suspect them. It’s certainly good for a smile.

I’m not sure my worldview entirely lines up with Pasricha’s. Some of his humor is a tad crass, and he seems to approach everything from a purely secular viewpoint, though the book does not so much reject religion as avoid the subject altogether. It also largely side-steps schmaltz, but it still is frequently heartwarming. In any case, I think there’s ultimately little in this book that would offend most people, and I imagine that many have the same experience I did of grinning in recognition at some of the joys that Pasricha highlights. It’s a volume that encourages people to think of all the times they’ve encountered such occurrences and to be more prepared to savor each one when it happens next. If you’re in the midst of a down day, that really can be awesome.