Other Women's Stories: What I'm reading this week (4/8/19)

Last week I finished:

I love memoirs, especially ones written by women. I didn't feel like I read enough of them last year, and I missed them, so I've been making up for lost time in 2019. One that I decided to try this year was Padma Lakshmi's Love, Loss, and What We Ate. I'd bought it for my Kindle and wasn't getting to it, so I decided to try it on audio instead. I'll start out by saying I don't know Padma Lakshmi or her television food shows. I really only know her from seeing this book all over when it came out. But that doesn't bother me, and it didn't hinder my experience with the book. I was a little concerned, however, that the book wouldn't appeal to me as I wasn't sure Padma and I would be women running in the same kind of circles, if you know what I mean. Her being a model and television star, I had a certain expectation going into the book (reading some unflattering reviews didn't help either) that I might not like who I found. But I was pleasantly surprised by just how much I enjoyed this book. A great deal of the appeal for me may have been because I listened to the book--which is narrated by the author. I get a little judge-y when reading memoirs sometimes, but listening to one read by its author humanizes it, and I find that I have more compassion. In the book, Lakshmi talks about growing up as an Indian transplant in America who spent her childhood summers in India. She talks about her mother, her mother's various poor choices in husbands, her Indian grandparents who half-raised her, and especially, her beloved grandfather. She talks about her career in modeling and television, in Italy and America. And of course, she talks about food. She's not a trained chef, but she somehow made her way onto Top Chef as a judge. She also talks about being married to Salman Rushdie, the exiled writer, and becoming pregnant and not knowing which of her boyfriends was the father. But what I liked most about the book, besides the honesty with which it was written, was her handling of female topics. She talked about the endometriosis which she feared had left her barren; she talked about having a large scar on her arm and how it affected her modeling career and her self esteem (until she happened upon a famous photographer who loved the scar); she talked about identity and feeling (and not feeling) at home; she talked about always being afraid she was the wrong color. I was reminded of some important things about women reading this, not least of which is that pretty much all women battle low self-esteem, yes, even models. So, I loved this one, and I'll be buying a paper copy to return to. My rating: 4 stars.

I read Stephen King's On Writing when it came out in 2000, and it's the only King book I've ever read. He just doesn't write the kind of book I'm interested in (though I would like to tackle the doorstop that is 11/22/63 some day), but back then I'd read anything by anybody about writing. And I'd loved the book, though the only things I could remember about it was when young Stephen wrote and photocopied stories to sell at school, and when he talked about being an alcoholic, even drinking mouthwash for a buzz. It was a nice book to revisit. The first section of the book was his memoir: his childhood, his very supportive wife and kids, his early years of writing, and his big break. The middle portion of the book is where he explains how he writes and revises and gives some guidelines for writers, which can pretty much be boiled down to "write a lot and read a lot." The last part of the book is where he talks about the near-fatal accident that happened while he was working on this book. My favorite parts this time through were by far the autobiographical parts. The writing part just didn't mean much to me at this point in my life, though it's a very good articulation of how to write. I loved that he was willing to say there are bad books and there are bad writers. Full stop. That's so refreshing. I never hear people willing to call a spade a spade anymore. I am also struck at just how decent King seems. He seems so normal and kind. He talks lovingly of his wife and kids, and back when he was trying to break through, he seemed so humble. He did what he had to do, enjoyed it immensely, and waited for it to pay off. Which, of course, it sure did. I do admire the guy. He's enormously prolific. I just kept wondering how someone so normal could produce such dark books. He doesn't address that. Needless to say, I loved this one, and I recommend it to all. Please note: he has a great sense of humor, but he does use some salty language. It's just King being King. My rating: 4 stars.

This week I'm reading: