I read this book because I have a deep affection for Anne Lamott's blurts.

The way she utters the raw truth gives the impression of engaging in a personal conversation.

And reading it turned out to be one of the crucial mile markers of my journey, especially when it comes to my own experiences in motherhood.

Ms. Lamott has the remarkable ability to soften the heart-wrenching reality with a touch of humor and humanity.

It's like a proverbial spoonful of sugar that helps the bitter medicine go down smoothly.

This is because life is all about living through, surviving, and thriving in whatever manner suits us best.

We all have our own paths to follow, and her words offer a source of inspiration and comfort along the way.

Her writing style makes it easy for readers to connect with her and find solace in her stories.

Overall, reading this book has been a truly enriching experience for me.

I truly don't know if I would have managed to finish this book had I not been pregnant. It's simply impossible to say, considering just how extremely pregnant I am at the moment.

Generally speaking, I have never been a fan of raw memoirs that focus on the day-to-day ordinary lives of middle-class white women who seem to have everything going for them. I can't recall if I've ever read one before, but to my surprise, I find myself liking this particular one.

I was deeply grateful for its honesty and the mundanity it presented. It felt as if it was written specifically for women like me - those who are scared, mentally and emotionally damaged, adults, overthinkers, and pregnant ladies. That, indeed, is a rather sizable audience, although one might question its desirability.

Nonetheless, this book has managed to capture my attention and touch a chord within me, perhaps because it speaks to the very real and complex experiences that I am currently going through.

Tremendously funny, warm, and full of hope, Anne Lamott's winsome, honest approach to motherhood is truly remarkable.

Especially as a single mother, she presents a perspective that is both inspirational and refreshingly free from cheesiness or cheap sentiment.

Her writing infuses a deep sense of grace, not only towards herself but also towards others. It is as if she has a rare gift of seeing the beauty and potential in every situation and every person.

Her spirit shines through the pages, offering a source of comfort and motivation to all who read.

Highly recommended to any parents or people pondering parenthood, her work provides valuable insights and a new way of looking at the joys and challenges of raising children.

Whether you are a seasoned parent or just starting out on this wonderful journey, Anne Lamott's words are sure to touch your heart and leave you with a sense of hope and possibility.

My friend Michelle recommended this book to me after we had a discussion about feminist books related to motherhood. I had never read any of Lamott's works before, but after delving into this one, I'm absolutely eager to explore more of her books, whether they are fiction or nonfiction.

She has a book about writing titled Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, which sounds quite interesting, and I might just look it up. Operating Instructions is presented in the form of a journal, excerpted from the personal journal she maintained during her first year of motherhood.

Right from the start, I'm deeply impressed by Lamott's courage to openly discuss her fears regarding bringing a child into the world. She manages to make this serious topic humorous by stating that above all, she fears the knowledge that her child will have to endure the seventh and eighth grades. But then she turns serious again, asking, "So how on earth can I bring a child into the world, knowing that such sorrow lies ahead, that it is such a large part of what it means to be human?" (11).

This question seems to echo throughout the book as she examines both the painful and joyous aspects of her own life. She strikes a balance between her overwhelming love and faith and an honest, raw portrayal of the trials of single motherhood.

More than anything else, I'm drawn in by her honesty - or what I assume to be honesty. It seems that if someone shares stories of pain, addiction, and darkness and spices them with self-deprecating humor, she must be genuine. Who really knows? But I think: How could this not be honest? Her words are so deeply felt, so brutally real.

I believe Lamott's story, perhaps too much. I'm convinced that a story of motherhood without this complete insanity - the incredible pain, despair, and agony - would be false. Maybe I'm too cynical. But I can easily imagine that if I were in her situation, raising a newborn baby on my own while trying to support us, I would probably descend into a dark pit of despair and never emerge.

The challenges of raising a child appear to me to be insurmountable. Months without sleep, crying and bleeding, being covered in milk, shit, tears, and vomit, dealing with hours of screaming and crying, losing one's mind... I don't know if I could survive.

Suddenly, I look around at all the people I know who have children. How did they do it? Bringing a child into the world and raising it must be the most courageous act of heroism I can envision. Ordinary people seem to have accomplished the impossible - raising children without going crazy or harming anyone. Either it's not as difficult as I imagine, or all these people are heroes.

What Anne Lamott has that I lack is faith in God. This is a beautiful aspect of her narrative, as lovely and sustaining as her boundless love for her child and the unwavering support of her friends, family, and community. Lamott discovers strength and love in God, which helps her through some of her darkest moments.

The way she depicts her community of friends is truly holy. They save her with their presence, their gifts of food and love, by helping her around the house, and taking the baby for a while. Just being with her, sharing the moments with Sam, as if that is the most important thing in the world to be doing.

Lamott's journal is filled with beauty and heartrending love. The awe-inspiring mother-love that she feels; realizing that now there is something in her life that she cares about so deeply, it could potentially destroy her. She says, "I feel that he has completely ruined my life, because I just didn't used to care all that much" (61).

Somehow, Lamott vividly portrays this overwhelming, complex blend of love, pain, hope, fear, and awe without idealizing motherhood or her baby. She doesn't hide her darker emotions of anger, frustration, pain, hopelessness, and fear but includes them in the story as part of the complete experience of being a mother.

The serious, precious moments of insight are interspersed with humorous stories about the baby's bowel movements or strange animal behaviors. Throughout the journal, Lamott inserts humorous interludes, memories of past events, stories about friends and family, and political commentary.

The journal is multi-layered. It's not just the story of Lamott and her son but also of her family history, her close friendships, her personal difficulties, her career as a writer, and so on. As I approached the end of the book, I wished it would continue. I wanted to get to know the people better, to witness Sam's growth, to hear him start talking and see him go to school.

The more personal narratives I read, the more I'm convinced that people's lives are truly fascinating when told in an insightful and powerful way. Life must be inherently interesting, with all its challenges and obstacles, funny little quirks, and big achievements that might seem silly but are worth celebrating. Like a baby's first smile.

Beautiful book about motherhood, faith, and fucking up.

It's written in a journal entry style, which makes it feel so personal and relatable.

Anne Lamott is truly my favorite author to read before bed. Her words have this magical quality that can calm my mind and soothe my soul.

As I turn the pages, I find myself immersed in her world, experiencing her joys and sorrows, her moments of doubt and her unwavering faith.

The book is a beautiful exploration of what it means to be a mother, to have faith in something greater than ourselves, and to make mistakes along the way.

It's a reminder that we're all human, that we all fuck up, but that's okay. Because it's through our mistakes that we learn and grow.

Anne Lamott's writing is like a warm embrace, a gentle reminder that we're not alone in this journey of life.

And as I close the book and drift off to sleep, I feel a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that tomorrow is a new day and that I can face whatever comes my way with grace and courage.

It was glorious, but I was upset at parts.

The reason I love Anne Lamont so deeply is her unique blend of honesty, self-depreciating humor, and the remarkable way she weaves words to capture the essence of everything. Traveling Mercies holds a special place among my top ten favorite books of all time (as you can see from my Goodreads review). I always keep a copy within reach, ready to read excerpts whenever I find myself stuck in the purgatory of writer's block. Her words usually inspire me, mostly.

However, I struggled with two aspects of this book. In the spirit of unadulterated Anne Lamont honesty, I will attempt to explain.

Firstly, the swearing. Yes, it bothered me. It seemed overly prevalent and rather crude. I'm certain it's an authentic part of Anne Lamont, and we wouldn't want it watered down, would we? Maybe I'm too sensitive, old-fashioned, a prude, or a freak. But this time, the swearing really turned me off.

Secondly, this book seemed to be filled with political mudslinging. I fully admit that I might be a bit more sensitive to her jabs at conservatives than usual due to the current political climate. Perhaps I shouldn't have read this book in 2020. For instance, she writes: "My hatred of American conservatives apparently sustains and defines me as much as my love of Jesus does, since I don't think I'm willing to have it removed."

It's silly to take offense at these and other rants about her hatred of Reagan and Bush. She's honest enough to admit that she might be part of the problem, but my patience has worn thin. All I've heard from her side this past year is that I want to kill Grandma because I question the overreach of the government during the pandemic, I'm transphobic because I believe in only two genders, and I'm a racist because of the color of my skin, which, if that isn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is.

But her prayer to God about whether she should have an abortion or not really raised my temperature to COVID levels:

"I am willing to have the baby if that is your will, if that is the right thing for us, and I am willing to have an abortion, if that would be best for the baby and me."

I fail to see how, in any way, an abortion could be the best for the baby. But what do I know? I'm just a right-wing nut.

One more thing, since we're on the subject. Her rantings are perfectly acceptable in the literary/artsy world. I've been trying to break into this world for years, and it's an inconvenient truth that I can't be as open about my political leanings as she is allowed to be if I ever want to be taken seriously. Why most creative and talented artists and writers tend to lean left politically is a topic for another time, but these two L's, liberal and literary, seem to move together in some sort of locked waltz. Those drawn to the literary world usually adhere to more liberal views and progressive social positions.

I've faced the mournful truth that conservatives, generally speaking, don't write literary masterpieces. They write researched books with razor-sharp arguments. They write suspenseful, military thrillers that make great movies. But writing as a craft, as a literary endeavor, where the words spill from the page like pearls of light, and the prose is rich with dialogue, figurative language, and subtle metaphors? Not so much.

Still, my love of the written word developed long before my political views solidified. And I love Anne Lamont's writing. I understand her when she talks about loneliness, depression, or the "Edgar Allan Poe feeling of otherness." I'm her twin in the desire to check out for a couple of hours now and then because she has "never been all that big on reality." And her gems of wisdom like "there really are places in the heart you don't even know exist until you love a child" keep me her faithful servant, nevertheless.

Could I be some sort of conservative Anne Lamont? Would she cherish my words like I cherish hers? I'd like to think so.

Laugh out loud funny and beautifully tragic, Lamott is brutally honest in an endearing and witty way.

Her writing style is truly unique, captivating readers from the very first sentence. She has a remarkable ability to take the most ordinary and mundane aspects of life and turn them into hilarious and heartwarming stories.

Whether she is writing about her own personal experiences, her relationships, or the world around her, Lamott's honesty shines through. She doesn't hold back, sharing both the good and the bad with equal candor.

What makes her writing even more special is her sense of humor. She has a way of finding the funny in the most unlikely of places, making readers laugh out loud even when dealing with serious topics.

At the same time, her writing is also beautifully tragic. She explores the human condition with a depth and sensitivity that is truly moving. Her stories often touch on themes of love, loss, and redemption, leaving readers with a sense of hope and a deeper understanding of themselves and the world.

In conclusion, Lamott's writing is a rare and precious gift. It is both entertaining and thought-provoking, making it a must-read for anyone who loves great literature.

If I could give a 10, I would without hesitation. This piece is so incredibly related to my personal experiences and emotions. It feels like one of those rare and precious books that I simply must have on my shelf. I envision myself coming back to it time and time again, whenever I need a moment of inspiration, reflection, or just a break from the chaos of the world.

Each time I read it, I discover something new, a hidden gem of wisdom or a beautiful turn of phrase that触动 my heart. It's not just a book; it's a companion on my journey through life. I can't wait to share it with my friends and family, and I'm sure they will be just as touched and inspired as I am.

This is truly a work of art that will stay with me forever.

So good, honest and eloquent.

These qualities are truly remarkable and highly sought after in various aspects of life.

A person who is good has a kind heart, shows kindness and compassion towards others, and is always willing to help those in need.

Honesty is equally important as it builds trust and credibility. An honest person tells the truth, keeps their promises, and acts with integrity.

Eloquence, on the other hand, allows one to express their thoughts and ideas clearly and persuasively. It enables effective communication and the ability to influence others.

Combining these qualities makes a person not only likable but also highly respected and successful.

Whether in personal relationships, the workplace, or society as a whole, being good, honest, and eloquent can open many doors and lead to a fulfilling and meaningful life.

We should all strive to cultivate these qualities within ourselves and use them to make a positive impact on the world around us.

"Operating Instructions" is an outstanding work that masterfully captures the emotional turmoil and excitement of new motherhood, and so much more.

Lamott's writing is a remarkable blend of brutal honesty, hilarious anecdotes, and a deep sense of self-awareness and introspection.

Throughout the book, she drops countless precious nuggets of wisdom or fishing lines, as it were, that we can all hold onto, regardless of our individual circumstances.

Mothers with a spiritual inclination will find a great deal to identify with in this book, and single mothers perhaps even more so.

The way Lamott describes the challenges and joys of raising a child is both relatable and inspiring.

Her words have the power to make us laugh, cry, and think deeply about our own experiences as mothers or as those who have been touched by motherhood.

"Operating Instructions" is a must-read for anyone who wants to understand the complex and beautiful journey of new motherhood.

My insatiable lust for books related to motherhood has led me to discover "Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year" by Anne Lamott.

This remarkable book chronicles Anne's journey through her first year as a new mother, and what makes it even more poignant is that she is a single mother. Anne writes with boldness and authenticity, perhaps because she initially did not have the intention of publishing her personal journal.

Thankfully, she did, as her innermost thoughts are laid bare on the pages. These are the thoughts that all new mothers have but are often too afraid to admit. Anne, however, has the courage to do so. She vividly and deliciously describes the dual nature of motherhood - the wonderful moments that make it all worthwhile and the painful ones that test a mother's strength.

As you read, you find yourself wanting to cheer her on, pick up the phone to offer advice, and even wallow in her self-pity along with her. Clearly, Anne is a skillful writer, as she manages to develop the characters from her personal life and weave a plot within the pages of her journal.

Although I may shudder at some of her more conventional parenting decisions, I still thoroughly enjoyed sharing her experience. I would not recommend looking to this book for practical parenting advice. Instead, it is a source of comfort and company when you are in the midst of your own parenting struggles, feeling miserable and in need of someone who understands.

Overall, "Operating Instructions" is a must-read for any mother who wants to know that she is not alone in her journey.

John,

You will surely fall in love with Anne Lamott. Sorry, Miriam!

Sally <3

Anne is truly wonderful, but my heart remains dedicated to Miriam.

This is another amazing gift from a dear friend who assisted me in surviving the darkest hours of my 2020.

There are golden moments throughout the book, from cover to cover. So, I will simply share one journal entry from December 06 and mention that I was completely unprepared for April 05 and wept.

December 06, p. 122

Today was a great day. He slept a lot, laughed a lot, played, and roared. Later, we had a Hoagy Carmichael dance contest, and we won - we won big. It was just Sam, the kitty, and me, but still, we felt great about it.

It takes Sam a long time to fall asleep at night. And when he does, I can't tiptoe around cleaning up because I think he subconsciously hears me sneaking around and finds it improper, and then he wakes up crying. So often, I just sit by him and watch him sleep. I tell him while he sleeps that it's a jungle out there, and he has to be really, really careful or else the eagles will get him, like they got Johnny G. My friend Mary had six cats at one point, until her cat Johnny G. disappeared, and eagles had been seen in the sky that very same day. So, of course, you could only draw one conclusion. After that, she always used to warn the other cats to be really careful so that the eagles didn't get them, too. The odds seemed so against them. Have you ever seen that awful PBS nature movie on baby turtles, where they show the beach where twenty million turtle eggs are laid and then hatch? Then they show those twenty million baby turtles trying to race across the sand before the seagulls swoop down and gobble them up. Only about forty-five baby turtles make it to the water. It makes you shake your head in disbelief. You double over and have to hold onto your stomach. I say, Please, please, please, God, let Sam make it to the water.

He can now roll over to one side and no longer just says, Ah-goo. He does all these wonderful babbles and bellowings now. He's so beautiful that it's kind of crazy. I'm sure he will be as flamboyant as an Easter bonnet. My friend Larry gave him a naked Ken doll that Sam took a liking to one evening when my reading group met at Larry's. And now it's like Fire Island around here. Sam licks and chews the naked Ken doll at every opportunity. I called Larry and said, "You're trying to recruit my son," and he said, "Look at it this way - in twenty years, you won't be losing a son; you'll be gaining a son." Larry has AIDS, or at least has HIV and no T-cell count these days. Boy, talking about baby turtles. I worry that he won't be here when Sam is four or five. Of course, I don't know if I'll be here either. Larry called one night at the end of my pregnancy when I was just devastated by the thought of the hole in Sam's life because he wouldn't have a dad, how much that was probably going to hurt, and how I wasn't going to be able to do much about it. He said that I was just an opening for Sam to come into the world, that I wasn't supposed to be a drug for him. I was just supposed to be his mother. Sam was meant to be born into the world exactly the way it is, into these exact circumstances, even if that meant not having a dad or an ozone layer, even if it included pets who would die, acne, seventh-grade dances, and AIDS. He simply wasn't meant to be born in the paradise behind the mountains.