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A review by ihateprozac
Where Am I Now? True Stories of Girlhood and Accidental Fame by Mara Wilson
5.0
Mara Wilson is a born storyteller and this was an absolute delight to read!
Wilson delves into her child stardom, anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder, body image, the Matilda + Whore complex, breaking up with Hollywood, her mother's death, Robin Williams' death, and forging her own path as a storyteller. It's non-linear and reads less as a story of her life, and more of a recap of a few key formative moments and awkward phases.
It's no secret that I never read autobiographies (hell, just look at my shelf). I had this preconceived notion that they're all lengthy, depressing or scandalous tomes about cocaine-fuelled orgies, trauma, and other things I have no interest in reading about. I live my life in the speculative fiction aisle; I'd rather read about fictionalised trauma and gay dragons than real life trauma and no dragons.
But this might have just changed the game for me. I can't relate to shooting up drugs on a tour bus, but Mara Wilson feels like someone I could be friends with, whose neuroses and quirks I can see in myself or other people. Her tales of stardom, mental illness, and finding her path as a storyteller had me laughing out loud and ugly crying on my couch in the middle of the afternoon!
What a neurotic, cynical little delight of a book.
Wilson delves into her child stardom, anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder, body image, the Matilda + Whore complex, breaking up with Hollywood, her mother's death, Robin Williams' death, and forging her own path as a storyteller. It's non-linear and reads less as a story of her life, and more of a recap of a few key formative moments and awkward phases.
It's no secret that I never read autobiographies (hell, just look at my shelf). I had this preconceived notion that they're all lengthy, depressing or scandalous tomes about cocaine-fuelled orgies, trauma, and other things I have no interest in reading about. I live my life in the speculative fiction aisle; I'd rather read about fictionalised trauma and gay dragons than real life trauma and no dragons.
But this might have just changed the game for me. I can't relate to shooting up drugs on a tour bus, but Mara Wilson feels like someone I could be friends with, whose neuroses and quirks I can see in myself or other people. Her tales of stardom, mental illness, and finding her path as a storyteller had me laughing out loud and ugly crying on my couch in the middle of the afternoon!
What a neurotic, cynical little delight of a book.