Review: You Better Not Cry by Augusten Burroughs

On 06.25.10, In Book Blather, Book Reviews, Memoir, Non-Fiction, By Natalie

Title: You Better Not Cry

Author: Augusten Burroughs

Genre/Pages: Memoir/224

Publication: St. Martin’s Press; October 27, 2009

Rating: 1.5  Bookmarks

Source: Library

A collection of bleak, holiday-themed essays, most that left me feeling like jabbing an icicle into my eye and skipping every Christmas until eternity.

With a mere 183 days until Christmas, what better way to herald in the season than with a collection of holiday essays by a darkly witty author?  Sadly, instead of putting me in the mood for the season, this book left me feeling melancholy.  I wasn’t expecting some feel-good book but didn’t think this would be such a spirit-crusher!

As a memoir fan, I’ve read all of Augusten Burroughs’s other books–I even read his brother’s memoir–and have liked them well enough.  But with this one, as with Jen Lancaster’s most recent, it seems that both of these authors are struggling with the same memoirist malaise that comes from running their respective story wells dry.

Burroughs’s holiday collection ran the gamut from his less-than-idyllic childhood holidays to his sometimes-drunken adult ones.  The laughs weren’t forthcoming as in previous books, and some of the situations were so depressing–losing entire days in a drunken stupor only to find himself huddled with a group of homeless people on the street on Christmas morning–that I almost couldn’t finish the book.

I soldiered on but was ultimately disappointed by Burroughs’s latest installment.

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Kiss and ‘Makeup’

On 06.04.10, In Book Blather, Non-Fiction, By Natalie

While shopping at Costco last month, this weighty book caught my mascara-ed eye:

I flipped through the book–it’s huge and comprehensive–but couldn’t warm to the idea of parting with almost $30 for it.  Serendipitously, I came across the book the very next day at my library.

I positively adore makeup and the magic it can work on my face.  I buy cosmetics by the truckload–drugstore mascara, department store blush, specialty store lipstick.  Sephora is a wonderland to me; I own one of their makeup cases and it’s filled to brimming.

Just like mine! Sephora Train Case

But here’s the irony: Despite my arsenal of beauty products, I rarely wear a full face of makeup.  Most days I just moisturize and wear concealer under my eyes, a hint of neutral eye shadow,  a swipe of  brown mascara, a touch of blush, and tinted chapstick.

But back to the book.  Begoun is nothing short of thorough in her research and presentation.  This book, the 8th Edition, is easy to use and offers great buys at drug stores, department stores, and specialty stores.  Begoun also dispels many beauty myths–including this one that I’ve been (literally) buying into for years:

Eye moisturizers are virtually no different from face moisturizers; they just have different packaging and price tags!

Begoun’s information is also available on her website, Beautypedia, but there is a membership fee to join.  On the plus side, it’s more current than a book ever could be.

Don’t Go To the Cosmetics Counter Without Me is a great reference tool, and I picked up some valuable information.

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Review: It Could Be Worse, You Could Be Me by Ariel Leve

On 05.25.10, In Book Reviews, Memoir, Non-Fiction, By Natalie

Title: It Could Be Worse, You Could Be Me

Author:Ariel Leve

Genre/Pages: Memoir/304

Publication: Harper Perennial; April 13, 2010

Rating: 4 Bookmarks

Source: Review copy courtesy of publisher

Nat’s One-Sentence Synopsis:Vignettes of spare prose told in a morose tone, Ariel Leve convinces readers that she’s virtually friendless, assuredly neurotic–a hypochondriac–and resigned to lifetime of small tragedies, general melancholy, and overwhelming defeat.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m pimping the memoir genre on this blog–perpetually reviewing memoirs, valiantly attempting to convert fiction readers to the darkside.  Maybe a better metaphor would be comparing myself to one of those door-to-door religion salespeople?  Whatever the case, know that I won’t rest until at least one or two of the avowed memoir-phobes out there dip their toes into the memoir pool!

Ariel Leve’s It Could Be Worse, You Could Be Me is all those yummy buzz-words that reviews and critics like to bandy about–her writing is witty, caustic, cutting, dry.  As a storyteller, she’s concise and has an eye for seeing the absurd in everyday life.

She’s an established writer–a newspaper columnist and author of many, many magazine feature stories and articles–but I’d never heard of her until now. All I can tell you is that I’ve got my work cut out for me; I’m thankful she has an archive of articles on her website!

It Could Be Worse, You Could Be Me is divided loosely by theme–Friendship, Personality Defects, Sweating the Small Stuff, Socializing, to name a few–and her observations are delightfully dry, some bordering on indifference, others on irreverence.

Leve on dealing with painful breakups: Another good time for a (medically induced) coma: just after getting dumped.  People say that time heals all wounds.  Well, time passes when you’re unconscious, so why not fast-forward to six months later, fully healed.

A snappy read injected with dry wit, It Could Be Worse, You Could Be Me should be a staple in your beach or pool tote bag this summer.  This memoir might be the vehicle that converts you to the wonder that is nonfiction!

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Review: My Fair Lazy by Jen Lancaster

On 05.14.10, In Authors, Book Reviews, Memoir, Non-Fiction, By Natalie

Title: My Fair Lazy

Author: Jen Lancaster

Genre/Pages: Humor Memoir/384

Publication: NAL Hardcover; May 4, 2010

Rating: 3 Bookmarks

Source: Review copy courtesy of NAL

In her latest installment, Jen Lancaster is on a journey of self-improvement–a JENaissance–but her sharp wit is a bit dull on this particular trip.

Jen Lancaster’s crusade to become more urbane and culturally enlightened tackles a few areas–performing arts, cuisine–and is an entertaining read, but it fell far short of my expectations.  Could it be that my expectations were too high, or was it just that some anecdotes felt a bit forced, shoe-horned into the book even though they didn’t relate to the theme?

Neophobe that I am, I was particularly interested in her forays into the underbelly of exotic cuisine.  Her experiences with Turkish and  Cuban food and molecular gastronomy (Moto, Chicago) were enough to send me reeling.  I actually traveled to Istanbul when I was 19 and subsisted on white rice and illicit trips to the McDonald’s in Taksim Square.  I can’t promise that I’d behave any differently if I woke up in Turkey tomorrow, so it was inspiring to see Lancaster taking one for the team, embracing the new foods.  I lived vicariously through her, if nothing else.

My Fair Lazy is Lancaster’s 5th memoir and I’m not sure how many more books she can churn out without some fresh experiences.  If I’d have to wager, I’d put my money on a lengthy trip abroad for Jen and her husband Fletch to give her material for her next book.

My Fair Lazy is a good read–fun for the beach or pool–but it didn’t have me laughing nearly as hard as a few of her other memoirs.

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