Regardless the impressive writing, the whole narrative of the book somehow felt messy to me. The wires stuck out like silver whiskers. I stood next to her in the small bathroom. 14Ī few days later I found my mother leaning over her bathroom sink again, yanking her braces off with needle-nose pliers. Droplets were like animals: they jerked and took winding paths, slower and faster, leaving a trail. In the shower with my mother, the droplets made their way down the wall. The way situations or images are described are extremely visual and this definitely showcased her talent for writing: One thing I’ve got to say, is that the style of Lisa’s writing is really beautiful and mesmerising. I read Steve Jobs’ biography by Walter Isaacson in 2012, which I absolutely loved, so I guess that’s why my expectations were really high and didn’t manage to be fulfilled. I have picked up the book on 8 different days to get through it, which was proof that it simply didn’t manage to captivate my attention. Picking up this memoir that I bought almost a year ago during an event with the author at the Shakespeare & Co shop in Paris, I’ve got to say that I was a bit disappointed…
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