mae🐝

suzanne collins does it again, a true master <3

somewhat inspiring and an enjoyable, short read! I think it could've been better if the timing was clearer, or the timeline was laid out easier for the reader to grasp, but I do understand that the not-doing-that was intentional... like it was obviously ambiguous on purpose, that just isn't usually my style. anyway, glad to call another book completed after this silly reading slump I've been in!

it's been a long time since I considered myself a writer. Even longer since I dreamed that one day I could be only that, and profit from it. I chose to read this book knowing absolutely nothing about it, as it was a staff pick at work. I had no idea how directly it interacted with the work of writing, and it is comprehensive! I really enjoyed reading the book, from start to finish. I think really anyone who enjoys reading or writing (even casually) would enjoy this book, and that is a testament to the writing skills of Lamott! There is humor and reflection and hard-earned advice throughout that makes for a interesting and captivating read, regardless of your current status in the "could I be a writer" question.

this book was quite possibly the darkest book I've ever read, and yet it was incredibly fascinating the entire way through, it was like I couldn't put it down. I found the writing style the most enticing piece of it, and I would be interested to read more books by this author with maybe more light? humor? I'm not entirely sure if that's something this author has in their catalog, but the writing style was so incredible to me, I stuck it out through the dark and the sad and the depressing.

There have been times when I felt that I might die of loneliness. People sometimes say they might die of boredom, that they're dying for a cup of tea, but for me, dying of loneliness is not hyperbole. When I feel like that, my head drops and my shoulders slump and I ache, I physically ache, for human contact–I truly feel that I might tumble to the ground and pass away if someone doesn't hold me, touch me. I don't mean a lover–this recent madness aside, I had long since given up on any notion that another person might love me that way– but simply as a human being. The scalp massage at the hairdressers, the flu jab I had last winter–the only time I experience touch is from people whom I am paying, and they are almost always wearing disposable gloves at the time. I'm merely stating the facts. People don't like these facts, but I can't help that.

Definitely one of the best books I've read in a long time. I felt comforted and uncomfortable, called out and understood. I was laughing and I did cry a little (at the end), and, perhaps most importantly, I was reading it very fast!
I'm always pleased when a book that is heavily adored by (it seems like) everybody and their mother actually turns out to be great, and worthy of the praise.