Rutabaga's Reads 2018: Part 8

I will be the first to admit that I rarely read nonfiction novels. And when I do, they are on the humorous side. In this compilation, you will find featured nonfiction literature to tickle your funny bone. Granted, there are only two books, but didn’t I already mention that I rarely read nonfiction novels? If you’ve read any funny nonfiction lately, please share in the comments!

Scrappy Little Nobody (Nov. 15, 2016) by Anna Kendrick.

Hey! It’s that girl from the Twilight films! And the gal from all of the Pitch Perfect movies. So, even if you don’t know her (most of us don’t), you’ve probably heard of her or can remember that you did see her in that one movie and are just now realizing it. This is Anna Kendrick’s memoir. Despite being a “child actor” (her Broadway debut was at the age of 12 – did you know that?), she had a fairly normal upbringing: parents, a brother and the very real role of the unpopular girl at school (because, yes, she went to school and sat in classrooms like most of us). She talks of her big move to Hollywood and the struggle of seeming like she had it all ($1,000 shoes!), when what she really had were a couple pieces from IKEA and a small bank account, while sharing an apartment with two guys and a tar-stained floor. Quite the opposite of glamorous, but very real.

            The actress and singer’s wit do come through the pages. I found her writing to be self-deprecating and droll, but I also got the impression that being an “obstinate, determined little ball of anxiety” fits her to this day and not just her three-year-old self. Most of us are anxious human beings, but I expect that she over-thinks things more than she should, which just confirms that she isn’t wholly unlike the majority of us. I certainly laughed aloud at times and actually found her non-adoration toward fashion to be refreshing, as it seems that all famous people (or the ones we see photographed in magazines) are all up on fashion trends and designer labels. Not saying she isn’t now that she’s successful, but someone who doesn’t mind wearing sweatpants and lounging while watching Netflix and eating a bowl of mac ‘n cheese is all right in my [hypothetical] book. This scrappy little nobody is, these days, a snarky, still little*, somebody.

            * Take heart, Anna Kendrick, as, if Google is correct, you have an entire one inch over me**.

            ** Objects in mirror are closer than they appear. And, even then, I’m still short.

Unqualified (Oct. 24, 2017) by Anna Faris.

The book’s author has advice for us, but she is unqualified to give it. It will not stop her from sharing advice and stories, though. From her fairly ordinary upbringing surrounded by loving parents and an older brother to simultaneously love (because you have to) and annoy (because it comes naturally) to the travails of college relationships (or in general) to tackling Hollywood (in her own way), the author brings us candid and sympathetic stories, often from a humorous standpoint. In between all of that are her first relationships, failed relationships, Chris Pratt and their son, Jack. This book is part memoir, part relationships, part  “Unqualified Advice” and all Anna Faris.

            Overall, this book was reasonably entertaining. From the viewpoint of someone who’s not familiar with her podcast, I felt like this story was written with her podcast audience in mind. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but there seemed to be too much over-sharing (which I won’t go into for those with sensitive minds). I appreciated her candidness, in spite of (or, perhaps, because of) her inclusion in Hollywood, and there were definitely moments – plural – that I chuckled aloud. Her chapter on son, Jack, was sweet, funny and stressful (he was premature). In that chapter, you felt like you were looking at fragility of life with both parents and baby fighting to persevere and be strong. In the way she writes, she comes across as personable and engaging. It would definitely be cool to run into her on the street. And, Anna? If you still feel like the Short Girl, let’s talk. I once had someone use “Shorty” in his pick-up line to me. Did he really think that line was cool? Because no. Just no.