Where Am I Now is Mara Wilson’s memoir – if you don’t remember, she’s the kid from Matilda and Mrs. Doubtfire. It’s not a bad book despite the low rating (I’m torn between a 2 and a 3 but since I read it a few weeks ago and remember it with a feeling of mild annoyance, I guess I’m going to round down), it just has the same problems as every memoir by a young adult that I’ve ever read: a lack of/really odd sense […]
I don’t know what to title this but the book was really good.
Mara Wilson’s debut memoir is a collection of well-written personal essays and I really enjoyed listening to it, but I didn’t love love love it. Some of the essays were incredibly moving and interesting to me, but others had that problem that I have with a lot of memoirs and collections of personal essays where it seems like it was included to fill space. I just find myself reacting like, okay I guess that was pretty good, but why did it need to be written? […]
“You’re going to fuck up, but most of the time, that’s all right”
I wasn’t initially going to get this book. While I’ve seen Mrs. Doubtfire and Matilda, possibly the two films that Mara Wilson is most famous for, I haven’t really watched any of the others she was a child star in, nor do I follow her Twitter or writing career as an adult. It just didn’t seem like this would be all that interesting to me. Nonetheless, this book got a lot of positive write-ups from people with good taste, including Patrick Rothfuss and Wil Wheaton […]
“If you can affect someone when they’re young, you are in their hearts forever.”
Mara Wilson’s precocious lisp was everywhere throughout my childhood; looking back, and on imdb, she wasn’t everywhere but simply in two movies that played on a frequent loop in my house. Her breakthrough role as Robin William’s daughter in Mrs Doubtfire and the titular role in Matilda has guaranteed her spot in the pop culture annals of anyone alive in the ’90s regardless of her adult career choices. I believe a lot of people my age (Mara Wilson is only about 6 months older than myself) saw her as a peer […]