This is my second Nora Ephron essay collection (again an audio version read by the author). Unfortunately I didn’t not enjoy it as much as her previous effort (I Feel Bad About My Neck), mostly because the essays tended to be shorter, a bit more random, and honestly not as well-written. I recall it starting out fairly strongly, and I was definitely into it for a bit. But in the end, I think my favorite part was how short it was.
My biggest problem really was in the storytelling, which, now that I see that written out, might kind of the biggest problem one can have with book. My feeling about Nora Ephron in the past has been that she has a great skill in telling ordinary stories in an entertaining and interesting way. Honestly, the only story that has stuck with me since finishing this book a few hours ago is an amusing retelling of how she got pushed out of making Christmas desserts after many years of doing it for the giant family and friend gathering.
In fact, I had to check out other reviews to be reminded that another essay, about her entrance into the world of journalism, was and interesting read (or listen). I don’t know – sometimes books stick with you. Sometimes they don’t. If you ask me two weeks if I’ve read this book, I might not be able to answer that with any sense of certainty. Which, given the book’s title, is mildly amusing
I wasn’t a huge fan of these either. It seemed a lot more forced than the previous essay collection.