All Over the Place

I could tell you that this book was hilarious and heartwarming, but that much has already been said so much better by so many others whose literary gifts extend beyond believing alliteration is terribly clever. So, instead, I’d like to tell you a story, which, having just finished “All Over The Place” minutes ago, seems like the only appropriate way to express my own feelings on the matter.I was travelling to Portland for an event in honor of a friend whose parents had been brutally murdered. I realize that’s a terrible beginning to a story, but life has never read any of the hundreds of books telling it exactly how stories are supposed to be written (sadly, I have, and life has made the right choice on this particular point).This friend and I were mutual friends with Geraldine and Rand. Geraldine is, to painfully oversimplify, my boss’s wife. This is a relationship that generally consists of nodding politely at Christmas parties and trying not to drink too much and embarrass yourself. I’ve since found that trying not to embarrass yourself in front of Geraldine is almost entirely antithetical to her nature, but that’s yet another story.Somehow, it was decided that I should fly to Seattle (the only part of the next couple of days that made any practical sense, Seattle being our main office) and a group of us would drive up to Portland and return the next day. I pictured 3-4 of us in a sensible rental car, a solemn event, and a return the next morning to dutifully get as much work done as possible.The sensible rental car turned out to be a cargo van – the exact kind of van that children are specifically instructed not to get into when approached by a stranger. While not by strangers, it would not be entirely inaccurate to say that I was abducted.The next morning, instead of returning to the office, we stopped, in typical Portland fashion, for donuts and coffee on the way to breakfast. Being a native Midwesterner, this confuses me, as donuts and coffee are often the entire scope of our breakfast and do not lead immediately to another breakfast. Somewhere along the way, the three of us also became 11, including almost the entire executive team of our company.All of this took an unacceptably long time, as eating all of your meals twice sometimes does, and so naturally we decided to make a quick stop at Geraldine’s mother’s house, which exists not so much on the way between Portland and Seattle as in a pocket dimension that may only be summoned under certain conditions beyond my comprehension. I suspect that the van was our TARDIS, and my abduction occurred across both space and time.I only met Geraldine’s mother for the space of 15 minutes of normal, human time, in a house that was somehow a village, and at a time that was somehow perpetually both Halloween and Christmas. There were decorations for both and neither, and, without knowing why, that seemed right and proper. I met Melba the mannequin, who is inexplicably charming, and experienced a lifetime in a quarter-hour.You may be wondering how any of this is helping you to decide whether to spend $15 on this book. You may also suspect that I’m simply trying to name-drop my limited time with Geraldine so that she remembers me when she inevitably becomes famous. You wouldn’t be completely wrong.The point of all of this, though, is that this book is not simply hilarious and heartwarming. It is also – and I can say this with total confidence from a single road trip – absolutely and completely true. Not a single word is exaggerated, from hand grenades to unspeakable toilet incidents to desperately important boring clocks, and that makes it all the more magical.

The author has a very pleasant, breezy way of reaching deeper truths about family, love, and fragility. She puts me in mind of David Sedaris (going through airport security with here mother, wow!) but with a sweetness that rises above the jokes (the trip the South Africa). She’s also very self-aware, as when she realizes what a luxury it is to be able to traipse off to Italy during an impending lay-off.I really liked the book and highly recommend it but did get a whiff of that annoying thing that plagues travel writing – this reflexive snobbery where self-described “travelers” are desperate to distinguish themselves from mere “tourists”. I don’t see how one can glance at the world and then land on travel expert Rick Steves as a target for mockery. Perhaps it was an attempt at humor, but why twice? (“One sneeze is lucky / two sneezes, queer.”) Wish travel writers could appreciate that it takes an incalculable amount of thrust for working people in this country to escape the atmosphere of the office and take off for even one week’s vacation (DeRuiter’s own partner had the same difficulty), and what an exquisite gift it is to actually be able to do so. Quite a different scenario from “Hey, I got a thing a Milan. Wanna come along?” The latter type of travel is more conducive to the “True Traveler” Mad Lib of “We were lost for BLANK hours, but these locals invited us to their WEDDING / FUNERAL / PIG ROAST and it was mah-velous!” For the former type of traveler, if the meticulous Rick Steves can tell you that a pack of carnets is oftentimes a better deal than a weekly pass, or that you can pre-buy tickets and not have to wait outside the Louvre (as the author did) or the Uffizi, then surely that’s a blessing to someone who’s time-pressed.*Sigh* Maybe this is my issue, not the author's. The book and Ms. DeRuiter are mah-velous, and I look forward to reading what she writes next.

Can’t wait to read the second book. Thank you, Geraldine. I felt like you helped me describe so much of what I only knew in my head, of my life. Thank you and please keep writing. You are brilliant.

I've been reading Geraldine's blog for some time so I was really happy when she published this book, but for the longest time, I couldn't buy it for a reasonable price in Canada until recently. It's written in the same sharp, humorous, self-deprecating and charming way as her blog. I found it to be a loving ode to her husband Rand, which was sweet, but she didn't make it over the top! Hope she writes more books.

Fröhliche Vergleiche und nette Passagen. Das Buch macht Lust zu reisen! Habe mehrfach gute Stellen laut vorgelesen. Inhaltlich wird man aber über Urlaubsländern nichts erfahren, aber man bekommt Lust einfach trotzdem draufloszufahren. Nettes Buch, keine schwere Kost.

There's a passage fairly early on in this book where Geraldine talks about how her husband has made her want to be a better person. The way she worded it, somehow it resonated with me on a profound level. She managed to describe exactly how I feel about my wife and how I've become a better man because I want to have earned my wife's affections.This book is full of such moments. Geraldine has a special relationship with words; she writes the way a heart feels. Every chapter is a delight, a series of emotional peaks and instantly relatable moments. And the best thing about this book is that it's probably the funniest I've read in a very very long time - I think only Iain Banks's 'Raw Spirit' surpasses this in the laughs-to-words ratio.It's billed as a travel book, but it's actually a book about life itself. Reading it is an act of self-enrichment. You'll be a poorer person for skipping this one.

Geraldine is great on Twitter and on her blog as well, but this book was just as good. It was a fun read and I’m looking forward to her next project.

Got through this in no time. Some laugh out loud moments interspersed with poignant anecdotes but at the end of the day a beautiful love story.