The Big Tiny by Dee Williams

Square Feet: 84. Possessions: 305.*

(*This headline is from the NY Times review – I had to swipe it.)

January is my time for sorting through clothes and books, cleaning out the freezer and diving into those mystery boxes under the stairs.   By necessity, we are already fairly simplified given our 1,100 sq. ft row house  — but after reading this inspirational memoir — we got nothing on Dee Williams.  

Ms. Williams decided to build an eighty-four-square-foot house on wheels, by herself — as a way to start building a simpler more meaningful life. 

This authentic memoir tells of her challenges both building-wise and health-wise.  She is not an experienced builder, but knows her way around tools, so she ventures ahead after meeting and studying others in the “tiny house” movement.  It’s not enough that she is dealing with a newly diagnosed heart condition and is often disabled and hospitalized, she also experiences grimace-worthy mishaps.  She glues her hair into the siding, almost shears off her ear when some plywood catches on an earring, tries to secure the roof (in flip flops!) and falls from her sleeping loft when the ladder shifts out from under her.

But beyond the Three-Stooges-like mishaps, this is a book to inspire.  How can you not be impressed (and perhaps even envious) of someone who can list everything she owns on one sheet of paper (the handwritten list is reproduced in the book).  Also enviable, Ms. Williams can clean her entire house in ten minutes and her monthly bills run approximately eight dollars.  Granted, she is living in a friend’s back yard and using this friends water, laundry and shower.  But Ms. Williams has her own kitchen (one burner),  her own toilet (compostable) and a sleeping loft with a view of the stars – risky ladder notwithstanding.

I was fascinated at Ms. Williams perseverance in the face of many hurdles — obstructive city codes, a newly prescribed oxygen contraption that meant snaking a breathing tube from a outside generator into her house, and an aging dog that she carries up and down the sleeping loft ladder.  But she remains positive and loving throughout. 

Happily, the author is also quirky and likeable, she still lusts after things she doesn’t need at Target (I have the same problem, I blame the hypnotic bulls-eye logo), she delights in fun underwear and prefers flip flops to shoes.  There is also a quiet soulfulness throughout, the reader is aware that Ms. Williams has a degenerative disease.  She writes with a quiet grace about her newly acquired time to savor every moment — as in this quote.

I stumbled into a new sort of ‘happiness’, one that didn’t hinge on always getting what I want but rather, on wanting what I have. It’s the kind of happiness that isn’t tied so tightly to being comfortable (or having money and property), but instead is linked to a deeper sense of satisfaction – to a sense of humility and gratitude, and a better understanding of who I am in my heart. I found a certain bigness in my little house – a sense of largeness, freedom, and happiness that comes when you see there’s no place else you’d rather be.

This book could have used some strong editing, it does ramble off the tracks, but it should provoke all of us to think on the question “how much is enough?”.  Given America’s self storage business is a $25-billion a year industry, Ms. Williams experiences are an inspiration. This book is not so much of a “how-to” guide but a “why to” memoir.   While not everyone (not me – see below) is suited to such an extremely tiny house, this book will make you contemplate the “too much stuff” syndrome  — why not simplify, declutter and live smaller?

N.B. Living in such a small space alone may be one thing, but can you image two people in 84 square feet?  I’m definitely not a candidate.  No way I’m making the middle of the night climbs up and down a sleeping loft ladder, I’d be lost without my book collection, I’d sorely miss my tea pots and at the very least — my husband and I already experience too much “togetherness” now we’re both retired — so count me out …. but I must go now and clean out a closet or two.  

Advanced reading copy provided by Penguin Group via NetGalley.