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In the past I've enjoyed Brett Lott's nonfiction, particularly essays that have appeared in Fourth Genre, but I was not particularly taken by this book. The biggest issue was that it lacked concision. It waxed way too long, especially in the second half where large segments of time were collapsed into a few pages or even sentences and then 15 minutes of experience with minimal action and lots of internal monologue took over 10-15 pages. I found myself skimming. I also would liked to have noted a tighter connection between the child that Jewel was and the adult she became. I fear that the reason the connection did not feel credible to me was that this was a male author and female narrator. In many ways Lott captured the essence of the maternal and wifely experience, but there was something missing, some thought process that I kept looking for but never quite found.
The book was given to me by a friend, and I always like to read books that others enjoyed, so I'm glad to have read Jewel, and I'm also glad to have the contrast between Lott's fiction and non-fiction.
The book was given to me by a friend, and I always like to read books that others enjoyed, so I'm glad to have read Jewel, and I'm also glad to have the contrast between Lott's fiction and non-fiction.