Book Review: You Are Here by Jenny Lawson
This weeks read is a tad unconventional but bear with me, it’s worth it. I promise.
Back in March, Mia took me to the book signing for You Are Here in Raleigh, NC. We were awkward and cringy (stop telling me “cringy” isn’t a word autocorrect!) but meeting Jenny was definitely a blast.
See that story here: RELATED: THE BLOGGESS BOOK SIGNING
You Are Here is not your traditional book. It’s a hybrid coloring book, short stories, funny quips, and inspirational musings. While on tour for her book, Furiously Happy, Jenny would often find herself stuck in hotel rooms, paralyzed with anxiety. Needing something to occupy her time (and hands) she took to doodling as she often would growing up. She would share her drawings on Twitter and her followers (myself included) devoured them (figuratively of course). This book is a collection of those drawings and others, meant to be colored, torn out and hung up, or left as is. As she states in the beginning, we are co-creators of this book, free license to do as we please!
As per her usual style, this book is rife with dark humor surrounding tough subjects, namely mental illness. Jenny has a unique, off the cuff way of writing so many different complex emotions, simultaneously making you cry, making you chuckle, or simply just inspiring. It’s a unique emotional roller coaster of a read. But a good one. Not one of those ones you feel all stiff and wobbly and a little vomit-y after.
I, myself, have yet to color in any of the pages, every time I try I am paralyzed with fear that I will “mess it up”. (Also the inner bookworm at me screams every time I even think about bringing a coloring pencil to the books pages) One day perhaps….
For now I will leave you with a few of my favorite lines from the book, be well friends.
“I am made up of stitched-together parts and worn-out pieces and small, bright things and memories that bring happiness and sadness, and tiny patches that I picked up along the way and forgot where they came from. I am made of rips and tears and gentle stitching from myself and loved ones and strangers. I am a patchwork quilt. Comforting and surprisingly warm.”
“Weird on, you bad-ass motherfucker.”