It feels wrong to disrespect the House of Day, but, welp, here I am.
I wanted to like this book -- I've been a Felicia fan for ages -- but first and foremost, it's boring. That is a cardinal sin of memoir writing. If you're going to write a memoir, you have to have a story to tell -- one that's extraordinarily funny or uncommonly heart wrenching or otherwise remarkable to the average reader. Aside from constantly reminding us that she was homeschooled, which isn't that strange a concept to me considering I went to a Christian university and knew waaaaay weirder homeschoolers than anything she describes, there is nothing all that wild and crazy about her upbringing. She keeps trying to assert that she's poor, but then talks about eating out every night (and not fast food) because her mother didn't cook, and taking expensive violin lessons, and her entire family up and moving to accommodate her when she got into college at the age of 16, and being driven to auditions hours away. Anyone who actually grew up poor probably does not recognize this lifestyle as remotely familiar. When I was a poor kid, we ate spaghetti constantly, I got a quarter a week for allowance (which I always squandered on a blow pop at the CVS), and played a second-hand flute in the public school band. She can keep telling me she was poor, but her story doesn't reflect that.
We're also repeatedly told that she's tooootally weird and no one understands her, but that's not reflected by her story either. Everywhere she goes, everyone thinks she's smart and pretty and talented. She's voted one of the hottest women on the internet at the age of 17. She goes to hang out with her gamer friends and has two boys competing for her affection. Not only is there no sign in here that other people thought she was weird or dislikable, she lets us know that she also thought pretty highly of herself. She knew she was born for stardom and had the ego to match. Most of this book is a humblebrag about how incredible she was growing up, with a self-deprecating remark here and there to act like she's knocking herself down a peg. Further, by NOT namedropping, she ignores how things like being on Buffy and the celebrity relationships she built play a part in her later success. She mentions borrowing a houseplant from the set of How I Met Your Mother because a friend was an actress on it. The friend is clearly Alyson Hannigan. Not saying her name doesn't play as humble. Instead, it's as if this is just a thing she thinks everyone can do, and it's not even worth mentioning in its mundanity. Meh, we ALL borrow the occasional prop from an actual Hollywood set every now and then, don't we?
On top of the fact that the majority of the book is little more than a celebration of the prodigy that is Felicia Day, it's just not well written. There are places in here where she repeats practically the same line on multiple pages, and not in a way that reads as an intentional callback. More like nobody edited this thing. She never commits to a joke, parenthetically inserting "JK" and other disclaimers as if her audience is incapable of understanding sarcasm, humor, or irony. She also goes to great lengths to explain her jokes, which might be funny once but is a grating theme for an entire memoir. This book clearly isn't written for tweens, but it reads like it is.
What saves this book from being a total waste are the chapters on her anxiety and on Gamergate. For most of the book, it feels like she's holding back. Even when she begins to broach topics that might have some emotional depth, she backs away quickly and strands the thought. I was frustrated. I felt like I could cobble together everything she was saying from interviews and blogs over the years, because she wasn't letting us in on anything risky. Thus, most of the time when she describes her anxiety, she comes across as kind of a type-A asshole. When she finally gets around to letting us in, she starts to make more sense. Her anxiety and depression are crippling, to the point of panic attacks, memory loss, and suicidal ideation. She's not just high strung and demanding because she thinks she's awesome. It's mental and physical illness that drives her to be that way. Even in this chapter, she sometimes still holds back and tells us she's not going to delve into some of the real thoughts she was putting into her diary, but at least there's emotion here. Same with the Gamergate chapter. She's taking a risk, and one that had really negative repercussions the last time she took it. I applaud her for that. She did some brave things in those two chapters.
The rest of the book? Ehhhhh. Would I enjoy hearing her life story over coffee? Totally. Was it worth spending a day reading? Notsomuch.