Originally published on February 16th, 2013
Sad. And cute. But mostly sad. A tragi-comedy, where even the funny parts make you a little unhappy. And whenever I read these slightly fictionalized/embellished accounts of people’s childhoods, I always find myself wondering what they tweaked, and why, and what was true. What actually happened? Why did they feel the need to make their life story more intriguing or dramatic? It seems to me that fictionalizing your history has become much more common (or maybe it’s because I’m reading more biographies now). I used to think that biographies were supposed to be all true. At least to the best of the author’s ability. But maybe they were always embellished, and we’re just open about it now?
Also, I noticed lately I love everything I read. Hopefully that won’t invalidate my opinion; it’s much more enjoyable to read books you love than to force yourself to finish one you hate. Which is what I used to do, and finally
was able to stop got better at. But, in the interests of fairness I’ll try to review something I hate. Or at least was only moderately fond of. I don’t want people assuming I automatically and thoughtlessly love everything I read.