Elizabeth

This was part of a series of listening to books in the car whilst ferrying kidlet to afterschool activities, but in the time of Coronavirus that's not a thing that happens any more. I have zero other interest in reading Harry Potter.

Like all memoir, I found this one equal parts insightful, naff, and self-indulgent, depending on what resonated with me and what I thought just belaboured the metaphor. If I were not the same age as May, having already learned the same lessons about burn out, toxic workplace, chronic illness, motherhood, and the unexpected things that flank attack you, I might have enjoyed it more. It's a short one though - it might be worth your time.

Um, what?

Timey-wimey existentialism 

Mysterious mystery is mysterious