i know it feels suffocating to be here, following so many great writers who talk about eve babitz and joan didion, and you’re thinking you might be too late to join this intellectual literacy club — but here i am, telling you: you’re not. it’s not too late. you’re not too late.
let’s do a brief introduction to joan didion (eve babitz is up next), figure out which book you should read first and why, talk about what happened to her, and of course — we must discuss her diary being published.
so for starters,
who is joan didion
joan didion was a journalist, novelist, essayist, and overall master of writing about disillusionment. she wrote about california like it was a religion she’d stopped believing in. she wrote about politics, grief, hollywood, new york, motherhood, migraines, the ’60s, the ’80s — and somehow made it all feel like the same story. she captured the feeling of unraveling in a way that made you feel seen and smarter than you actually are.
“i write entirely to find out what i’m thinking, what i’m looking at, what i see and what it means. what i want and what i fear.”
- why i write (1976)
people quote her the way others quote scripture. “we tell ourselves stories in order to live” might as well be the first commandment of every mfa program. she had a signature — from her prose to her sunglasses to her cigarette-holding posture — and made being painfully observant look poetic.
but at her core, joan didion was just a woman trying to make sense of the world and herself before it all slipped away. and i think that’s why people connect with her so deeply. she looked life in the eye and wrote it down, no matter how bleak or blurry.
now! why was she important? why is she an icon?
joan didion was born in sacramento in 1934, and by the time she was five, she was already reading hemingway and rewriting paragraphs to figure out how they worked. casual.
she won a vogue essay contest in college (imagine winning a contest and accidentally becoming one of the most iconic writers of the 20th century??) and moved to new york to work there. eventually, she married writer john gregory dunne, moved back to california, adopted a daughter, and began chronicling american life in a way no one else could. her lens was sharp, detached, almost cold — but never heartless.
she covered everything: hippie culture in san francisco, water crises in los angeles, the manson murders, reagan’s america, her own devastating losses — all with that trademark precision. her sentences could slice you open and still leave you saying, “wait… let me read that again.”
“we are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. as we were. as we are no longer. as we will one day not be at all.”
- the year of magical thinking (2005)
she became a style icon without trying, a cultural critic without screaming, and a literary legend without being boring. she didn’t tell you how to feel — she just showed you what was, and let it haunt you.
her work is now studied in classrooms, romanticized on tote bags, and instagrammed by girls who might not have read her but know she’s important.
her diary or, notes to john
in april 2025, joan didion’s most intimate writing was published posthumously in a book titled notes to john. it’s a collection of 46 entries from her therapy sessions between 1999 and 2003, addressed to her late husband, john gregory dunne. discovered in a filing cabinet after her death in 2021, the entries explore her struggles with alcoholism, depression, anxiety, and her complicated relationship with her adopted daughter, quintana roo dunne.
unlike her polished essays, these notes are raw and unfiltered. they reveal her fears about aging, her guilt over motherhood, her loneliness, and her reflections on legacy.
the publication has sparked ethical debates (of course). didion had previously criticized the posthumous release of private writings by other authors, which raises the question: would she have approved of this release? (probably not.)
still, notes to john offers a haunting, intimate companion to the year of magical thinking and blue nights. it’s devastating, strange, and human. a reminder that behind the myth was a woman — flawed, brilliant, and just trying to keep going.
“I know what the fear is. the fear is not for what is lost. what is lost is already in the wall. what is lost is already behind the locked door. the fear is for what is still to be lost.
- blue nights (2011)
where should you start with joan didion?
a choose-your-own-didion adventure
if you’re grieving / spiraling / barely holding it together:
—> the year of magical thinking
this is joan at her most vulnerable. it’s about the sudden death of her husband, the slow decline of her daughter, and the completely unglamorous, deeply personal nature of loss. if you’ve ever felt like you were floating outside your body while life kept moving — this one’s for you.
if you want peak cool-girl didion, smoking in the desert, writing about the end of america:
—> slouching towards bethlehem
this is the classic. the essays that made her famous. you’ll meet hippies, cult leaders, drifters, and disillusioned housewives. you’ll read it and immediately want to underline everything and wear oversized sunglasses for the rest of your life.
if you want joan on motherhood, legacy, and the grief that lingers:
—> blue nights
think of it as a companion to the year of magical thinking, but colder, more painful, and more reflective. this one hurts. she writes about quintana’s death, memory, aging, and the fear of forgetting. it’s quiet devastation in 200 pages.
if you’re into fiction and want to see her do it her way:
—> play it as it lays
this novel is razor-sharp, bleak, and hypnotic. it’s about a woman named maria, who’s drifting through hollywood and depression. the writing is stripped down and haunting. it’s giving aesthetic nihilism. it’s also only 200 pages.
so no, it’s never too late to start reading didion. i only barely started, so we can do it together and discuss.
trust me — i get how it must look. very smart people reference her in their substack posts and write entire essays dedicated to her. very intellectual behavior. so it just got me thinking… if i didn’t know who she was before starting substack, maybe you didn’t either.
and here it is: a basic guide to her literature — if you can even call it that. a work of art is better fitting.
soooo that’s that. and next, if you want, we can discuss another substack icon: eve babitz. but only if you want <3
I loved this deep dive into Joan Didion! You brought out so many nuances in her work — it felt like both a tribute and a fresh perspective.
pleaseeeee please please do one for eve babitz!! I loved this so much!!