So, initially, this was going to be a 2-star for me, I thought it was just a mostly-disappointing celebrity memoir, but then I got to a portion that really put a bad taste in my mouth. I'll get through my overall thoughts before I get to that portion that I found especially off-putting.
I am not going to deny that Stoner has been through a lot. We're seeing more and more frequent accounts of child stardom that demonstrate that it is often highly exploitative and abusive. I'm also sure that Stoner has done a lot to heal and work through things, but I think this memoir as a creative project maybe needed a little more introspection and time for reflection before it was put together.
Memoirs Aren't Just Your Diary
It's perhaps not fun to think about, but while memoirs are real accounts of someone's life, they are also narrative stories with characters. Things like character arcs, narrative structure, and plot throughlines are important aspects. No, life doesn't usually tie up nicely in a bow the way a novel would, but how you present your narrative story should follow consistent throughlines. Maybe this needed more editing or plotting out ahead of time, I'm not sure, but there are some rough weaknesses in how this book is constructed.
Stoner's novel seems to try to hit on common tropes that celebrity memoirs cover. I've seen a lot of comparison to Jennette McCurdy's I'm Glad My Mom Died, which is an apt comparison, but unfortunately to this memoir's detriment. Stoner engages with the concepts of exploitative parents but doesn't seem fully willing or able to criticize their behavior. I know that that's probably really hard to engage with, but if you're going to portray your mother's addiction and financial exploitation, you can't at the same time hover over and downplay those things. Was Stoner's mother a hard-working, sacrificing parent, or a superficial, power-hungry greedy person? Yes, people can be complex, but Stoner's surface-level approach to portraying their mother reads more as character inconsistency than nuance. Similarly, is Stoner's father a deadbeat, absent divorcee or a long-suffering parent who inspires their career, cruelly barred from seeing them? The book can't seem to make up its mind on how it characterizes a lot of the side characters. Seeing as this is based on real-life, I understand that people can be all of these things simultaneously, but the lack of development in explaining these things leaves gaps that just come across as contradictory.
Under-Developed Self-Reflection
A lack of depth and development is a common issue I took with the book. A concept or theme would come up, disappear for a few chapters, then suddenly resolve. We don't get to see the growth. For example, Stoner realizes they're queer after developing a crush on a woman. When they confide in their family and faith community, they're met with the typical hallmarks of queer rejection: insistence that it's sinful, cautioning that it'll ruin their career, etc. Based on the narrative, they seemed to have internalized all these things too. Then the queer theme takes a backseat. Then, multiple chapters later, when it's the obligatory third act triumphant-and-empowering part of the memoir, they decide to shave their head and come out publicly online, and that's that. Did they grapple internally with this? Did they resolve anything with their mom or their faith group? We as audiences are not necessarily entitled to this information, though choosing to include these things in the memoir without any development comes across as half-baked.
I've seen a couple reviewers mention that Stoner also seems to lack self-reflection and accountability and I absolutely agree. Throughout the entire book, there weren't any points that stood out to me as Stoner saying, "I messed up there, that one was on me." No, everything that happens to Stoner is completely other people screwing them over, passing them over for things they felt entitled to, and not giving Stoner their "big break." Even if all of those anecdotes were accurate and in those instances, they were being screwed by other people, the lack of inclusion of any self-reflection makes the entire thing feel like a bit of a pity party. I feel like if there was even one scene where Stoner is like, "yeah, I was a jerk in this situation," it would have implied that they're a person capable of admitting to wrongdoing. In a memoir, you partially establish credibility with your audience through things like relatability. If you can't be relatable, then humility. Neither are present here. There's never a part where they blow off an audition or are rude to a friend, no, it's always "everyone passed me up even though I wanted it really, really badly," which comes off as unfortunately kind of whiny.
A Different Plane of Reality
Another criticism I agree with is that Stoner comes off as out-of-touch. I want to stress, I can't deny that Stoner had put in the hours through child stardom and worked a lot, sacrificing a traditional childhood in the process. Still, there's an entitlement that I found alienating as a reader. They admit that being 'triple threat' won't set you apart but also feel the need to remind the reader that they were 'triple threat' regularly throughout the book. They complain about not receiving their 'big break,' when they were in commercials, music videos with huge stars like Missy Elliot, on multiple regular Disney channel TV shows, in huge blockbuster movies -- these things are going to make an average reader say, "well, if that's not a big break, what even is?"
Celebrities! They're Just Like You and Me, Financially! I Swear!
Money is a frustrating theme in the book. Stoner makes pains to point out that stardom is actually not all riches and financial security, that they would take home 15 cents of every dollar they made, yet coyly neglects to actually list a dollar amount made. When they find out they're broke before a big influencer show at age 23, they're shocked there aren't millions in their account. They say they were never taught financial literacy but also that they had account managers and financial planners, which made me feel like some details were omitted. You're telling me that your financial advisors weren't neglectful, yet somehow you were being underpaid? That all your contract workers were overcharging you? That you simply didn't know that showering people with expensive custom monogrammed gifts because they're 'less fortunate' was a dumb financial decision? Less fortunate people can't eat custom monogrammed towels. That won't pay their rent. It's again a situation of "nobody told me and I did nothing wrong!"
When the money thing happened, they lamented that their career was all for nothing because if they'd had a normal childhood, they wouldn't be starting from $0 at age 23. My immediate thought was, "no, you'd actually be much worse off because if you had a normal childhood, you'd likely have gone to college and be in massive amounts of student loan debt." Imagine my shock when the next thing Stoner decides is, in order to turn their life around, they should go to college. To an Ivy League school, specifically. Notoriously not affordable things there, especially if you just realized you're broke. Stoner doesn't look up the acceptance requirements, they just reckon that since Natalie Portman went, they can to. They're rejected immediately for not meeting minimum application requirements and instead of applying to someplace with less of prestigious name-brand glamor or working on getting those requirements, Stoner gives up on college entirely. Financially, that was probably the best call if we're being honest.
Now, the part I found especially distasteful.
Stoner has now pivoted in their career to being a "mental health practitioner." They mention they've done "short term certification programs" in mental healthcare and trauma healing practices. I tried to find evidence of their credentials online, I couldn't find anything, just repeated mentions of "certification courses." Certifications in what? Was it a ten-minute online course, a seminar, a six-week intensive? Who runs the certifications? Actually healthcare providers? "Wellness gurus"? Quacks? We don't know. All we know is that Stoner has a "short-form digital series" (a YouTube channel), a podcast, and a wellness company. The epilogue of the book is a marketing pitch for their company full of corporate-ese and therapy speak. I looked into their product offerings, you can get your Artist Wellbeing Toolkit for the low low price of $400! You can sign up for their workshops and classes with an $120 yearly membership (get four months free if you book now at $80)!!
If Stoner was actually a certified mental health practitioner, they would have heavily edited the portions of their memoir surrounding their battles with eating disorders. Any mental healthcare practitioner worth their salt would tell you that the two basic things you're never supposed to do when discussing EDs is: (1) list actual weights and numbers of pounds and (2) discuss detailed methods for ED related self harm. Those are standard, never-do-these-things things. Unlike suicidal ideation where speaking out can help remove stigma, speaking about EDs can lead to body-checking and serve as a how-to guide for someone struggling.
I lost a lot of respect for Stoner and the memoir when I realized that this book is ultimately a marketing ploy to sign up for a 'wellness' and mental health grift. It really seems like Stoner saw the success celebrity memoirs like McCurdy's or Britney Spears and realized they could capitalize on it. I find it really offputting for someone to capitalize on mental health in this way. I get it, Stoner needs to pay the bills, but this really missed the mark for me.