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I wrote this book so I think I'1000 required to like it. Just I'd like information technology even if someone else wrote information technology. Although if they did I'd sue them for stealing my life story. How confusing. Much like the volume.
If you're looking for a Sedaris alternative, this unfortunately isn't it. Which kills me, considering I become the feeling Lawson had the potential (and raw material) to knock it out of the park, merely information technology just doesn't come together. Jenny Lawson is definitely funny. When she really gets going on a story, it's pretty fantastic - only that's only x% of the volume, and the remaining 90% is just awful. I tin can't assistance feeling like this book was all written in a unmarried sitting, with fiddling editing or review. It's uneven, it's all over the place, and some capacity feel like pure filler - I don't need pages of imaginary post-its written to her husband Victor, for instance. There are lots of places where I call up nosotros're just supposed to relish Lawson'due south rapid-fire babble, but it's not blubbering with meaning to it, it'southward just nonsense. And that'due south a shame, because it means the just reason I keep reading is considering I'm waiting for another story like the turkeys to show up, and instead I get very tiny moments similar the bobcat toss. Information technology's like Lawson forced herself into writing a memoir when she actually excels at writing moments. Drawback being, crafting an entire volume of curated, arranged moments takes a hell of a lot of concentration and effort, while stream-of-consciousness nonsense is relatively easier.* I could do without the footnotes, which are just irritating - it is hard to explain how badly footnotes piece of work on a Kindle, just betwixt this book and Jasper Fforde I think I could make a compelling example. I could do without the editor'due south parentheticals (which weirdly are sometimes also footnotes). I could do without the long-winded flourishes that loop back in on themselves when talking nearly accented rubbish. And that all sucks, because Lawson'southward childhood sounds enjoyably nuts. When she actually stitches a story together, one with multiple events and a timeline, information technology's HILARIOUS. But all too often, she's just throwing the punchline in there without much else. In the end, I guess this is where I terminate upwards with LPTNH: weird shit happens to everyone, only few people know how to structure the story in a fashion that legitimately entertains. Lawson knows how to structure a story, she's just not choosing to practice it almost of the time. Besides, people are very capable of acting similar crazy insane people quite often - if yous sound also pleased with how wild and crazy you are and keep thumping on nearly it, it can get Really Abrasive. * I practice recognize that Lawson also writes most her general anxiety disorder, and she explains that she finds herself nigh incoherent in social situations and is much ameliorate on e-mail, when she can edit. But given that this is a book, it feels like a lot of the narrative flailing could have been avoided through editing. We definitely get a good grasp of what it's like to be within Lawson's caput, only she finds her status exhausting and for a whole volume, so did I.
First, I should mention that I listened to this ane on audiobook. Didn't read the text version. Second, the audio version is read by the author. I think Jenny did a squeamish job with it, too. If you're used to nothing but professional audiobook narrators, there might be a few exact ticks in hither that might bug you. But me? For an autobiographical work like this? I'd much rather hear it in the author's ain voice. Third, she got some bodily laughs out of me. Not just entertainment or smiles. Not just chuckles. Existent laughs. I was driving around in my automobile, alone, laughing like a madman. Fourth, several times I sat in the machine later on I'd finished whatever trip I was taking but to continue listening to the audiobook. Fifth, driving around, listening to this audiobook, I missed the proper turnoff several times. I didn't heed much, because turning effectually and driving dorsum the correct way gave me more fourth dimension to listen to the book. Sixth, she fabricated me cry reading this. 3 times. Now admittedly, I seem to be rather soppy lately. Only even given my recent emotional fragility, that's a mark of practiced writing some skilful writing. Seventh, the stories Jenny Lawson tells are, in turns: crushingly honest, funny, witty, sweet, heartbreaking, and delightfully bizarre. Lastly, I'd like to say that while I've read some of Jenny'due south blog, and I know of her considerably fame as The Bloggess, I didn't pick this book upwards because I was a fan. I bought this audiobook audio because I like her, and I've heard people say good things virtually information technology. After listening to it? Yeah. Now I'yard a fan.
Demand a good read for a bad twenty-four hours? Hither'southward a In short? It is exhausting being me.Jenny Lawson (the Bloggess) has lit up the literary scene with her debut novel - Let'south Pretend This Never Happened. Jenny lives the sort of life where... well... hmm... perchance you will merely have to read this book yourself. I really don't think I have anything that can fairly sum this one up... Let's just say if you are a fan of taxidermied animals, heavily awkward moments, vindictive post-it notation wars, crippling feet and frank talks about bodily functions, then this book is for you. Oh there is no style to adequately convey Jenny's source of humor - it was just absolutely perfect for me. Really knocked it out of the park! I actually enjoyed Jenny's have on the earth. She has had her fair share of centre-stopping, eye-wrenching and jaw-dropping moments ...and even so, when she reflects on them, she says: Every notation was just perfectly done - I adored it from cover to comprehend.
The Written Review 
A friend is someone who knows where all your bodies are cached. Considering they're the ones who helped you lot put them there.
And the sense of humor!
And I appreciated her frank talk most mental illness. I feel like that is a subject all likewise easily (and also often) glossed over in books. It's refreshing (and truly wonderful) to have a volume that does not hold back. One moment I'm perfectly fine and the adjacent I feel a wave of nausea, then panic. Then I can't catch my jiff and I know I'm about to lose control and all I want to do is escape. Except that the one thing I tin't escape from is the very thing I desire to run away from... me.
All in all, I actually couldn't accept enjoyed this book more. Knock-knock, motherfucker.
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Skull and crossbones on this one if you're easily offended. And so no whiners, okay? I hateful information technology. Just....no whining. This is the most hilarious vagina memoir ever written. Okay, and then technically it's not just about vaginas, but she mentions hers more than often than anyone I've ever known who actually owns i. And likewise, I had to throw that out there correct at the start, so if y'all're going to go all upset you can but go it overwith and stay. away. from. the. volume. Should yous choose to read it anyway, don't come back to me all complainy about how crass she is. Oh, and also? This book is non suitable for people who dislike frequent interjections of words start with "f" and catastrophe with "u-c-thousand." And I mean with no messages in between the "f" and the "u-c-k," and so "firetruck" doesn't count. NB: Jenny'south dad is a taxidermist, so in that location are also a lot of dead animals in this memoir. Only at that place are some ambrosial live ones, also. Especially if you like robertcats. (I know, most people telephone call them bobcats, but I prefer to use robertcat until we get to know each other ameliorate.) So be impressed. This book is chock full of curse words, and I managed to write my review without officially using any of them.
So but to be articulate: To my knowledge at that place is no use of the give-and-take "firetruck" in this memoir. You lot've been warned.
JENNY LAWSON ATTACKED ME WITH A MACHETE!! OK, so I have never met Jenny Lawson, and she didn't attack me with an actual machete, but I'm being metaphorical here, yous. Considering reading Jenny Lawson's book made me feel equally if I were being beaten with some kind of weapon, and information technology may too have been a machete. Which is a word she uses in her book. She too likes the words chupacabra and vagina. And numerous swear words. She also likes postscripts. Lots of them. But back to the machete. I opened my review this way to demonstrate how Jenny has written her memoir. She will say something totally exaggerated and in a hysterical phonation, so she tells a 30-infinitesimal story, after which you realize the matter that actually happened has zilch to do with what she claimed happened. For example, when Jenny says: "I was attacked past a deport concluding night!" What she actually ways is: "I saw a stray cat by the pool." When Jenny says: "I was mauled by a pack of wild dogs!" What she ways is: "The neighbour's pet was excited to see me." When Jenny says: "I was stabbed in the confront by a serial killer!" She ways: "The cat sat on my head while I was asleep." Halfway through the volume, I realized Jenny Lawson is a fabulist and a narcissist. Put another manner, Jenny Lawson is a very successful blogger. I think the terms have go interchangeable. Hither is a quote from one of Jenny's chapters, in which she shares ridiculous and inappropriate emails to a coworker that she never actually sent: It is exhausting being me. Yes, Jenny, I empathize that. I was exhausted merely reading your book. At this point I need to analyze, equally Jenny often does after she has made an absurd statement, that there are some funny stories hither. Jenny had a wackadoo childhood in rural Texas, and her dad liked to drag dead animals home and scare her in the heart of the dark. But later on about 50 pages I recognized the template of her storytelling, and the repetitiveness of it wore me down. I considered abandoning the volume, merely so many friends had liked it that I wanted to push through. A few stories are quieter than the rest, such equally when her dear dog died, or when she relates her struggles with anxiety and depression, but there is always an undercurrent of mania. Most of the book is exaggerated fluff, which is fine for a weblog, but I don't need it in book form.
**edited...with content!** watch your fucking back, sloane crosley...this lady is funny-funny, not "boys tell me i am funny at parties because i am pretty" funny. i am so glad that kelly read this earlier me and it encouraged me to pick up my ARC and get into it far before than i ordinarily would have. But Not EARLIER THAN I WOULD Accept HAD I ACTUALLY WON THIS THROUGH THE FIRSTREADS PROGRAM, WHICH IS HOW THIS SHOULD Have GONE DOWN, GOODREADS!Terminate WITH THE SNUBBING ALREADY! i had never heard of jenny lawson before, but now i can't end thinking about her. in a non-creepy way. i think. it's hard for me to gauge my ain creepiness when "enthusiastic" can oftentimes come beyond as "creepy." i am pretty sure i am just enthusiastic. and it wasn't love at first sight. there were a couple of things in the introduction and first essay that fabricated me wince and promise that some of the "look how hard i am trying!!" missteps would exist toned down before publication. i have no way of knowing whether they were. well, i exercise, only i am lazy. but there were all the same some genuinely funny moments, and i was on lath as she recounted episodes from her babyhood with her well-meaning taxidermist male parent and the...gifts and ...surprises... he would supply for her and her sister. oh, love. i mean, a lot of the stories sound wonderful and magical like having goats and porcupines and raccoons simply hanging out inside the firm, wandering effectually, but for every story featuring a raccoon in jams, in that location is a story near accidentally running face-first into the carcass of a deer being hosed downwardly in the lawn. and vomiting. within the carcass of the deer. there's no manner to come back from that, actually. i love the fights she has with her long-suffering married man, i love her honey of tiny taxidermied animals in period vesture, i dear her habit of uncontrollably telling inappropriate stories and lies when cornered at dinner parties, i hate all the deadly things that environment her texas home... except the foxes. greg will like that story. i honey that i laughed so loud and hard at portions of this book that i had to be checked on because "i thought y'all were screaming." i was totally screaming. i beloved that she curses every bit much as i practise. and talks nigh her vagina frequently. in many ways, nosotros are the saaaaaame. we should get a drink together. look, is that creepy? whatever. non a perfect book, no, but a book i liked plenty that i am going to purchase the hardcover because this ARC has blurry pictures that yous can barely read the funny captions on, and the hardcover has these amaaazing patterned endpapers with pictures of animals on them. i dearest it. and i am waiting for the second volume. call me, jenny. let'due south taxidermify sloane crosley. that was definitely creepy. shit. okay, so i thought i should give you a sense of her lunacy fifty-fifty though you could only go to her blog and see it, and even though it is totally illegal for me to practise so since i only have the ARC, but i am kind of banking on the hope that that is one of those mattress-tag laws and no 1 volition actually come and abort me, although i would love to meet what volume prison is like. this isn't one of the passages that made me scream-laugh, but i totally sympathise her concerns here, and i am frequently startled at the shit we think of.....i like this part mostly because of all the caps and italics and free energy jumping off the page....i'll simply throw you right into it: THIS IS JENNY LAWSON: also, i just want to say that i think when the medico is stitching your vagina back up (for real, kid-costless people: stitching. your. vagina. up.), i don't know why they don't throw in some cosmetic surgery while they're downwards there, to make it await cuter. similar, when my gynecologist told me that she'd probably have to cut my vagina, i was all, "YOU ARE A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH," and she was like, "not for fun [unspoken: "dumb-donkey"]. to get the infant out." and i said, "oh. well' if yous're going to accept to scar me, could you do it in some kind of boot-ass shape? like, how near a lightning bolt?" and she merely stared at me, so i explained, "y'all know...like harry potter's?" then she just looked at me like i shit on the floor, and i thought maybe information technology was because the sentence structure kind of implied i was referring to harry potter's vagina, and so i clarified: "but non on my brow similar his was." and she notwithstanding didn't respond, so i pointed down and said, "on my vagina" then she shook her head like she'd know all along i wasn't referring to harry potter'south vagina, and said, "uh, we don't actually do that. in fact, nosotros prefer for yous to tear naturally, considering it heals amend," and i'm all, "Mother. FUCKER. are you fucking serious??" and i kind of suspected she was just making that up because she didn't want me to have a nicer vagina than hers, considering she'due south never had a kid and so hers was probably all perfect and cheerful, and she probably didn't want me rubbing my vagina in her face when information technology was all lightning-commodities awesome. like i would ever even practise that, dr. ryder. i would never rub my vagina in someone's face, even though it would be the near badass vagina in the world. and whenever i have menstrual cramps i could just pretend that voldemort was close.
and i wet myself a footling, too.
it was that skillful.
come up to my blog!
Overall Rating: 1.5 I don't know if it'southward specifically American problem, but permit me tell you lot, this is one of the worst memoirs I've read. (Seriously America, practice you honestly find this funny? O.o) And I'll tell you why, I'1000 not merely saying this considering of some misplaced sense of spite, ok? When I get-go heard about this volume, I was very excited – information technology sounded like a real good reading material and information technology had an awesome cover to boost with too. From the very beginning though, I realized it would be far from the book I expected. I have no idea who this individual(Jenny Lawson) is, but the whole book was one big mess, full of stories that were meant to be funny and unique (simply were neither). Every single story felt forced and exaggerated. The author couldn't end herself from constantly reminding and insisting her babyhood was unique and that she'southward gone through And then MUCH and and then on and then on…
Well, exist sure information technology's not. Peradventure for someone living in modern America it's rarity to have to collect water in a cistern or to accept wildlife for pets, etc, etc. Merely for the remainder of the world it'southward daily occurrences. The merely thing that this book makes me want is to slap the oh, so great nation of "liberty" and shout "Become YOURSELF TOGETHER FOR FUCK'S SAKE! YOU Take IT Meliorate THAN So MANY PEOPLE, AND Still You lot Just WHINE!"
I read lots of memoirs, but something well-nigh Jenny Lawson's Allow'southward Pretend this Never Happened was different. REALLY Unlike! It's non just the messed up lives thing which seems to exist a prerequisite for memoir writers. In example you were wondering, though, dysfunctionality thrives in this book. And there is definitely no calm voice of reason chirapsia it back. This dysfunctionality and the bizarre fashion it manifests energizes Lawson. How Lawson faces this reality, a really skewed and messed upwardly version of reality (only probably the one we're all in denial nigh) quickly approaches and passes warped! I've seen the book described as profanity-laced stream of consciousness, merely there are zany and very memorable stories mixed in with her (there's a squirrel) more than distracted moments. Information technology was entertaining to have a glimpse of this world. Good read!
Basically the best review I can give this book, is that as a librarian I'chiliad pretty much giddy with excitement waiting for the things people volition come tell me after they've read this book. From the (boring) I loved that information technology was an honest look at mental disease and survival (very true) to the (no seriously I can not wait) YOU Allow MY Kid READ THIS AND Now THEY WANT A DEAD SQUIRREL Puppet and THIS Volume IS BLASPHEMY AND READING Information technology KILLS PUPPIES AND KITTENS. I pretty much giggled in excitement when I won the advance copy, and and so waited non actually patiently to go my re-create so it came and I was away and that basically destroyed me and there was a 3 day long emotional trauma period. Anyways. I finally got to my re-create and it was everything I wanted it to be. Eye-breakingly (also, it tries to auto-correct breakingly to lawbreaking. Fitting) wonderful, actually laugh out loud funny (not just LOL'd) and hands downwardly one of my favourite memoirs and books out there. Get. Buy information technology. As soon as you can. I might buy it once more and then I tin run into the pictures. But then, I kind of loved that they were blurry. Only I'one thousand weird. http://vivalakt.blogspot.ca/
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Source: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12868761-let-s-pretend-this-never-happened