I’ve been a fan of AHP for a few years now, starting back when she was still an Adjunct Professor teaching media studies and writing on her blog. She had a FB fan page that I subscribed to before FB became a toxic place. Then she left academia (I remember she either wrote an amazing essay about that, or was included in one around that time) to write for Buzzfeed, and every time she posts an extensive star study, I drop everything and read it. (As I was gathering links for this post, I found something she’d written about furniture that I hadn’t yet seen, and I had to stop and read it.) (It was delightful. And she linked to a rant about a particular sofa that was hilarious. So AHP is also someone I trust to send me down Internet Rabbit Holes.)
I was trying to figure out some good beach reads to check out from the library, and AHP has a new book out. This is not it. (I’m still coming to terms with the reality that libraries either don’t have fresh new books OR they’re checked out with epic waitlists.) This is her first book, and I realized that the beach would be a PERFECT place to finally read it.
Except I didn’t end up reading it at the beach. My mom did. When she finished the book she brought. And she got about 80% through this book before the end of the week, at which point she had to write down the title and take a picture of the chapter where she stopped, so she could find it in her hometown and finish reading.
So my mom loved this book. And I loved this book. The end.