Take a photo of a barcode or cover
tracey_stewart 's review for:
Be warned of the content of this book - the "history of traumatic abuse" mentioned off-handedly in the third paragraph of the Goodreads description is a litany of horrors that no one, especially an isolated child, should ever have to experience. Alison Arngrim relates her story frankly, unflinchingly, and matter-of-factly, and in detail.
I can't say I was ever a devotee of Little House on the Prairie. I know who everybody is (at least among the Ingalls clan), and so on; I know it was on at points in my childhood; I knew about Mary's sight and baby Carrie rolling down the hill ... but that was about it. But this sounded like fun.
And, really, except for the parts that were intensely painful to hear, it was a lot of fun. Which is why the painful parts were so very painful. The story of (the rest of) her childhood was fascinating. It was truly wonderful to hear about a tv set that wasn't wall-to-sod-wall drama and angst and screwed-up child stars, and to know that while Laura and Nellie were at daggers drawn on the show, Melissa and Alison were dear friends ... and coming to actually, honestly care about Alison made it even harder than it would otherwise be to hear her talk about the hideous experiences of her childhood.
The word "inspiring" gets tossed around a lot. I honestly try not to use it, because it evokes Hallmark a little too strongly. But Alison Arngrim? Is inspiring. And funny. Really, really funny. I'd love to go have a dinner with her (except we're both introverts at heart). She is a brilliant, strong, admirable, funny force of nature, and a glorious example of someone who was dealt a horrifically bad hand, and has used what she was dealt to win game after game. I am clawing desperately for a better metaphor than that - lemons into not merely lemonade but a table full of chicken francese and lemon meringue and limoncello? Not everyone has the strength to use their pain to help others. I want to be Alison Arngrim when I grow up.
I honestly am not sure why I picked this book as part of an Audible sale, and I'm really not that sure why I decided that this was what I was listening to that day at work. But I'm very glad I did both.
I can't say I was ever a devotee of Little House on the Prairie. I know who everybody is (at least among the Ingalls clan), and so on; I know it was on at points in my childhood; I knew about Mary's sight and baby Carrie rolling down the hill ... but that was about it. But this sounded like fun.
And, really, except for the parts that were intensely painful to hear, it was a lot of fun. Which is why the painful parts were so very painful. The story of (the rest of) her childhood was fascinating. It was truly wonderful to hear about a tv set that wasn't wall-to-sod-wall drama and angst and screwed-up child stars, and to know that while Laura and Nellie were at daggers drawn on the show, Melissa and Alison were dear friends ... and coming to actually, honestly care about Alison made it even harder than it would otherwise be to hear her talk about the hideous experiences of her childhood.
The word "inspiring" gets tossed around a lot. I honestly try not to use it, because it evokes Hallmark a little too strongly. But Alison Arngrim? Is inspiring. And funny. Really, really funny. I'd love to go have a dinner with her (except we're both introverts at heart). She is a brilliant, strong, admirable, funny force of nature, and a glorious example of someone who was dealt a horrifically bad hand, and has used what she was dealt to win game after game. I am clawing desperately for a better metaphor than that - lemons into not merely lemonade but a table full of chicken francese and lemon meringue and limoncello? Not everyone has the strength to use their pain to help others. I want to be Alison Arngrim when I grow up.
I honestly am not sure why I picked this book as part of an Audible sale, and I'm really not that sure why I decided that this was what I was listening to that day at work. But I'm very glad I did both.