Let's Pretend This Never Happened (edition 2013)

This is, without a doubt, by far, the funniest fricking book I have ever read. Jenny Lawson is candid and never takes herself too seriously, but is serious about everything she says. ( )

I needed something to read in an airport and picked this book up, opened it randomly, read a page and immediately bought it. The author writes in a way that makes you laugh (out loud and with minimal volume control), and that is the reason it is so good. However, this book didn't get five stars from me because I had to take it in doses - the author, while funny, can become grating and you have to be in the right mood to read more than two or three chapters at a time. ( )

Oh, well. I tried. ( )

A couple days after I've finished reading it, I still don't know how I feel about this book. Don't get me wrong, the parts that were funny were hysterical, but maybe dark comedy just isn't my thing.

Lawson's (ie, the woman behind TheBloggess.com) depiction of anxiety had me nodding along with understanding, and some of her exploits were in turn heartwarming and side-splittingly funny. But here's the thing: I spent part of the book laughing along at the some of the stories Lawson shares, part of the book wincing in sympathy at various events, and the other part of it uncomfortable about the jokes about cancer, anorexia, and what to me read like borderline child abuse from her father. So I don't know how to go about describing this book. I've read some of Lawson's blog posts over the years, and I found them hit-or-miss, with some of them really fun and engaging, and some of them not. so I think skimming through her blog will be a good litmus test for whether you'll like her memoir.

Overall, I finished the book with a sense that I didn't really get anything out of reading it. And honestly, there didn't seem to be much of a point to it. Yes, it lets us into the head of Jenny Lawson, and there are some things in the book that are of genuine interest: her insight on growing up the daughter of a taxidermist, on struggling through an eating disorder and anxiety, and so on. But it felt more like a collection of unrelated stories than it did a cohesive memoir, and the moment an interesting topic comes up we get swept away to the next tidbit. I think I would have enjoyed more straightforward honesty as opposed to having everything packaged up in jokes that as often detracted from the story she was trying to tell as they did enhance it.

It seems I'm in the minority, though, so maybe memoirs just aren't my genre. Granted, I haven't read many memoirs, and the only memoirs I've read are centered around a certain aspect of people's lives, so maybe the majority are like this one and I just don't know it. Or maybe her writing style just isn't for me. Either way, while I found some merit in this book, it wasn't the thrilling experience I'd hoped it would be. ( )

Frickin hysterical. Like growing up in my head, only with more taxidermy and in Texas. Seriously wish I could be as funny as this woman is on a bad day. Well, not a bad day, like when vultures tried to unbury and eat her dead dog, but on a day when the writing doesn't flow. (See what I did there? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Or does that just get you sued?) Anyway, you should read this book. Probably. Unless you hate laughing, in which case what the heck is wrong with you, anyway? Why are you still here? The movie's over. Go home! ( )