What sucks is that the primary conceit of this memoir is my least favorite thing about it. Sutton Foster really wanted to talk about how she is a "maker" (same terminology used on Amy Poehler's show "Make It," so I assume that's an official term). She even described the writing process and how she did not want this book to be a chronological memoir that simply mentioned her crafting habit occasionally; rather, she wanted to focus on individual pieces and their emotional significance at a time in her life.
But, I didn't care about any of that.
I knew who Sutton Foster was because of Bunheads, an Amy Sherman-Palladino show that I absolutely loved. It's a crime that it wasn't given a second season. "The Fosters" was nowhere near as good, and I say that as a gay foster parent with a Latino child placed with me. It was practically the story of my life, and I still would have preferred several more seasons of Bunheads.
Currently, my one-year-old son likes to watch Shrek the Musical on an endless loop, so Sutton Foster has been on my mind lately anyway. Then this book came up in my feed and I thought, "Yeah. I haven't read non-fiction yet this year. Let's do it."
The best result of having finished this book is that I now have a new show to watch. There have been 7 seasons of a show called "Younger," featuring at least 3 big-name actresses I know, and I had never heard of it. I suppose this is partly the result of me no longer watching regular TV, so I see fewer commercials than ever before. But, no, I had never heard of this TV show. Now I want to check it out.
I could relate to her trials and tribulations with getting a baby, up to a point. I don't have female anatomy, so there were no attempts to get pregnant through either sex or IVF for me. But I could relate to the worry, to the effort, and ultimately to her decision to adopt. The last part happened for me as well. So, there is a certain amount of, "I feel seen!" when reading this.
But, the focus on crafting felt like an entirely unnecessary angle. She could have simply dubbed this book, "Sutton Foster: The Story of my Life," and I would have read it the same. Hell, I would have preferred it without the crafting references, which did nothing for me.
My mother and brother knit. Or crochet. Or whatever. They're already annoying as fuck about it. I don't need more people raving about it to me.