It is interesting to read this collection of essays after reading Patchett's latest novel, Commonwealth. It is no secret that Ann Patchett is a research writer. She finds a subject that interests her and then becomes an expect in that subject. She didn't know a thing about opera before writing Bel Canto, nor did she know much about the jungles of the Amazon before diving into State of Wonder. She consistently puts the lie to the advice that you should "write what you know," which is bad advice and if anyone ever tells you to do that, ignore them. This is the Story of a Happy Marriage is full of autobiographical essays about Patchett's relationships, her family, her time as an author, and of course, dogs. It also becomes apparent, fairly soon, that Commonwealth is nearly a memoir. Many of the stories that appear in her essays directly translate into the plot of that novel, and despite making a career of researching other people's lives, Patchett manages to "write what she knows" both in this book and in that novel.

As for the essays here, they are a mixed bag. Some are fluff -there is a piece about staying at a hotel and how nice that is, for instance, that feels like filler to give the book a higher page count. Thankfully, even Patchett's fluff is well-written enough to be readable, and there's much there to enjoy. On the opposite side, I found several of the essays to be invaluable. She details her writing process in a way that had me scribbling to take as many notes as I could, and I will certainly return to that piece. She is not shy about exploring her grief and sadness and many of the essays are about the death of those she loves. If you ever want a really good eulogy, it would behoove you to befriend Ann Patchett - or become her dog.

My only real complaint with This is the Story of a Happy Marriage is that much of this collection feels forced. Patchett talks extensively about writing to make a living, and there are large portions of the book where this seems to be the theme. There is a marked difference between the writing that she wants to do and the writing that she needs to do. This is something I can sympathize with, however, and if someone ever collected the essays of one D.C. Stewart into a book, it would not be this enjoyable to read.