If I had to describe this book in one word, I would use a word Carrie uses to describe herself: glib. 

Not only does Carrie talk a lot while saying so little, she contradicts herself a lot. In the first third of her memoir, she goes into great detail about mundane conversations and events, but when talking about the juicy stuff, she somehow can’t remember what happened because she’s too old now. Then there are some poems & excerpts from her journals, which are actually amazing. Then, in the last third, she spends the entire time mocking her fans & complaining about having to sign autographs, but then says, “I know it sounds like I don’t like my fans, but I do, I promise!” Yeah, totally.

Carrie is witty, for sure, but this memoir left me, like her Lord Ford, disenchanted.

Damn, when I googled what a plesiosaur is I thought for sure that Mary’s Creature would become the Loch Ness Monster! That would have been a fun twist!