Dear readers, I spent most of yesterday poring over Joan Didion's notes detailing roughly a year of therapy, now available as a book called "Notes to John." I went into it with real apprehension. I wasn't torn up about the decision to publish the book — I'm persuaded by my colleague Alexandra Jacobs's opinion in her review that Didion probably expected these notes to see a broad, public audience. I admire Didion and hold her work in high esteem, and will read any new material available to me. But whenever she strays into plainly emotional territory I tend to react badly, like a cat thrown into a full bathtub. If I had an enemy in memoir form it would be "The Year of Magical Thinking," no question. More on that some other time. (That book was No. 12 on the Book Review's list of the 100 Best Books of the 21st Century, so clearly mine is a minority opinion!) It was a pleasant surprise, then, to find the entries in "Notes to John" so moving. I am astonished at the level of recall she employed in committing résumés of her therapy appointments to paper. The framing device — these recaps are addressed to her husband, John Gregory Dunne, and mostly center on the emotional distress and worsening alcoholism of their daughter, Quintana — gives them an intimate and urgent feel. Have you ever listened to your best-adjusted friend recount an analysis session and feel your whole body slacken with boredom? Didion's notes are not that: They are a record of trying to save a life, and understand her own. I'll be curious to see the book's critical reception; I do respect the squeamish feelings some people have about its publication. Didion was so exacting a writer I have to hope some of the insights she reached could help readers in similar family dynamics, even if some elements of her life are alien (good grief, the money and fame she and Dunne acquired). If you read "Notes to John" please feel free to let me know what you think; you can email me at books@nytimes.com. See you on Friday. In other news
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