David Sedaris reads "Roy Spivey," by Miranda July.
This is the New Yorker fiction podcast from the New Yorker magazine.
I'm Deborah Treisman, fiction editor at the New Yorker.
Each month we invite a writer to choose a story from the magazine's archives to read and discuss.
This month, we're going to hear Roy Spivey by Miranda July.
He slept for the first hour, and it was startling to see such a famous face look so vulnerable and empty.
The story was chosen by David Sedaris, whose personal essays and humor pieces have been appearing in the New Yorker for nearly two decades.
He's published eight books, including me.
Talk pretty one day, dress your family in corduroy and denim, and when you are engulfed in flames.
Hi, David.
Hi, Deborah.
So Miranda July published a story collection called no one belongs here more than you a few years ago, and two of her stories have appeared in the magazine.
But she's also perhaps better known as a film director and performer.
She wrote, directed, and starred in two feature movies, me and you and everyone we know in 2005 and last year's the future.
But what side of her work do you know best?
I was not familiar with Miranda July until I picked up this New Yorker with her story in it.
And I sat down to read the story, and I felt like I was a different person when I finished reading the story.
It was exactly the kind of short story you want to read.
I just felt so completely, mysteriously shaken up by it.
And I thought, how, how have I lived without Miranda July in my life?
And so I went out and I got her book.