Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
In this delightful collection of 18 essays, Broder embarks on an earnest, sophisticated inquiry into the roots and expressions of her own sadness. Already known as a poet (Last Sext) and author of the @SoSadToday Twitter account, here she joins a new generation of essayists whose voices have been shaped by the conventions of digital communication. Quoting generously from chat logs and sexts, Broder's deeply confessional writing brings disarming humor and self-scrutiny to secrets that include embarrassing sexual fantasies and her habit of eating a "whole pint of diet ice cream with six packets of Equal poured into it." The essays span an impressive range of topics: abortion and the decision not to have children, substance abuse and sobriety, experiments with antidepressants, and monogamy with a chronically ill partner. They can occasionally border on the self-indulgent, but even during these rare lapses, Broder's central insight is clear: it is okay to be sad, and our problems can't be reduced to a single diagnosis. All of the essays are linked together by the art of learning to love oneself, sadness and all. Agent: Meredith Kaffel Simonoff, DeFiore and Company. (Mar.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
Poet Broder's @SoSadToday Twitter feed began as an anonymous way for her to purge dark thoughts. Here, given far more than 140 characters to work with, Broder employs precise and provoking language to entice readers with essays that explore the all-consuming nature of technology, romance and relationships in the modern world, and what it means to be human. Her innermost secrets, which include an eating disorder, her sexual predilections, complete with a vomit fantasy, appear bizarre yet honest, so that one cannot help but feel a kinship to the author. Whether visiting a shaman or finding enlightenment through tantric yoga, Broder offers others who may be suffering a beacon of hope that each of us is not alone. More than a collection of essays, this memoir of sorts documents anxiety, hurt, and understanding with humor and heart. VERDICT Eloquent in its grittiness, this title will do well in modern literature collections, fitting in with the likes of Jenny Lawson's Furiously Happy and Frank Warren's PostSecret.-Kaitlin Connors, Virginia Beach P.L. © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Depression, anxiety, panic disorder, and addiction all resonate in this outspoken collection of essays. Broder's (Scarecrone, 2014, etc.) collection of 18 provocative essays began in 2012 as a formerly anonymous Twitter account loaded with dark humor and downward mood swings. Since its unmasking, the author now fully embraces the peaks and valleys of her emotional landscape as she attempts to "fill my many insatiable internal holes with external stuff." Following a cursory glance at her upbringing, where "the religion of the household quickly became food," Broder admits to chronically chewing her nails and ingesting other bodily products to "find comfort...even in the darkest, most disgusting places." This graphic depiction of her youthful melancholy suitably sets the tone for the remainder of the essays, mostly overcast with angst yet punctuated with self-deprecating humor. The author lucidly describes her post-collegiate years living in Northern California, "melting down" in a whirlwind of alcohol, drugs, sexual experimentation, and employment in "a Tantric sex nonprofit." Some sections read like slam poetry, as when Broder ruminates about love, graphic sexting with an online flame, or the things that bring her shame. The answers to an Internet addiction quiz compellingly illuminate her innermost fears of death and rejection. The author digs even deeper as she unveils an odd affinity for nicotine gum, Botox, open marriage, and a fetish for vomit, something she believes taps into the "dark, untouched corners within all of us." While Effexor played an integral part, readers will also realize that Broder's tweets were just as instrumental in her sobriety. In these vividly rendered and outspokenly delivered essays, the author admits to being in better shape now than before, and "sending what I was feeling out into the universe" has become the ultimate wellness elixir. Sordid, compulsively readable entries that lay bare a troubled soul painstakingly on the mend. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
