Jenny Lawson is a funny lady. She’s just my kind of sassy, neurotic and rude. When this book works, it’s because she’s writing with her own voice, the same voice you hear on her blog. When this book doesn’t work – which is, unfortunately, most of the time – it’s because someone took that same voice and tried to hit it with the literary stick. What you get is a dull hybrid that falls too flat to be any way engaging. It’s a shame. Although I’d say this is almost certainly first-time jitters and her next book will be something special.