Review: Let's Pretend This Never Happened

So yourself a favor and go buy Let's Pretend This Never Happened. Stop what you're reading, even if it's The Bible or Shades of Grey, and read this memoir instead.

Got it? Start reading, then I challenge you to put it down.

I put mine down — when I needed to catch my breath from laughing too hard!

Okay, there was the time when Jenny Lawson talked about her father shoving his hand up a squirrel's — er, never mind. I did have to take a break there. I am so not into taxidermy.

Then there was the chapter about her reproduction that, even though she told us how it would end, still made me tense, so I read it with one eye open while clutching my kitten to my bosom. (I was in bed, so I could use only one hand to hold the book.)

And yet I didn't pause when reading about her dog. Or her first girls' weekend ever. Or —

Okay, that's enough about what's in the book. Now, let's talk about how The Bloggess can write about something that isn't in the least about what she's writing about and yet. And yet. It makes sense. You may not understand how you got from there to here, but what a great trip it was.

And for the record, I love her husband. Honestly, if she's only a fraction like the narrator of this memoir has depicted, he's a saint and a loving, loving man.

Finally, this author has the most precise comic timing and razor-sharp absurdity. I mostly read at night, propped up in bed, convinced that I'd wake up my husband and kitten with my laughter. I laughed until I cried. Then I cried. Then I laughed again.

You know what? Don't take my word for it. Really. Don't read any other reviews. Just read the book. Then buy a copy for a friend because you won't want to part with yours.

It's that good.

And when you're done, but you're not quite ready to let Jenny go (and yes, I'm calling her by her first name, very un-journalistic of me, fire me, okay?), watch this video.

Better yet, watch this one (which you saw in a previous blog post here on From One Book Lover, right?):

Go ahead, buy a third copy for your minister. You know you want to.