DEAR ALICE . . . : REJECTED LETTERS TO ADVICE COLUMNS FROM COMPLETELY INSANE IDIOTS
By Steven Ryniak

The hardest part of reviewing Steven Ryniak's Dear Alice . . . was tracking down whoever borrowed it. My big complaint: The book is too easy to pick up. The catchy title, the pocket-size portability, and the blonde in a bikini on the cover make it too tempting to leave lying around. 

Supposedly compiled from "over 2,000 different advice column rejection piles, from more than 60,000 newspapers worldwide, after 15 years of back breaking research," Dear Alice . . . features over 70 made-up letters from people who are . . . well, completely insane.  

How can you tell when someone is "completely insane"? The answer seems to lie in a fanatical belief in an alternate reality. Speaking Ewok as though it were a living language is a pretty good sign. Wanting to go to wizard school is another. Imagining that you've been lost for a week in the Nigerian jungle when you've only been gone for eight hours is a sure bet.

The people writing these letters certainly don't think they are insane. In fact, they are usually so sure of their own version of reality that they can't wait to sue. The kind of advice they are seeking is mainly legal. These aren't just any insane idiots, these are insane American idiots, and they can't wait to go to court. 

But what makes Ryniak's idiots endearing is the fact that they are all such suckers. Their insanity is rarely paranoid. They really want to believe the best in people. A personal trainer gets his client to eat nothing but junk food while only working out one day a week, but the client is willing to get with the program. When a girl asks another letter-writer to rub her pit bull's tummy, he complies. An old friend has no trouble convincing "T. L." to deliver a mysterious metal trunk to an Arab named Aachmed at La Guardia airport. A father wants to know if the "magic pills" his son has been ordering by mail really work. Various correspondents complain about being horribly abused by doctors they are only now beginning to suspect. 

As you might have guessed, this is not Miss Lonelyhearts. But Dear Alice . . . is a fun collection of humorous sketches sure to give the slightly less insane a lift.

Notes:
Review first published online November 27, 2000.

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