Reviews for Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure

The average rating for Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2015-05-04 00:00:00 Dana Cunningham Rating: 3.75* of five My Review: Deceptively simple and surprisingly addictive, Not Quite What I Was Planning is a thousand glimpses of humanity'six words at a time. When Ernest Hemingway famously wrote, "For Sale: baby shoes, never worn," he proved that an entire story can be told using a half-dozen words. When the online storytelling magazine SMITH asked readers to submit six-word memoirs, they proved a whole, real life can be told this way, too. The results are fascinating, hilarious, shocking, and moving. From small sagas of bittersweet romance ("Found true love, married someone else") to proud achievements and stinging regrets ("After Harvard, had baby with crackhead"), these terse true tales relate the diversity of human experience in tasty bite-size pieces. The original edition of Not Quite What I Was Planning spent six weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, and thanks to massive media attention'from NPR to the The New Yorker'the six-word memoir concept spread to classrooms, dinner tables, churches, synagogues, and tens of thousands of blogs. This deluxe edition has been revised and expanded to include more than sixty never-before-seen memoirs. From authors Elizabeth Gilbert, Richard Ford, and Joyce Carol Oates to celebrities Stephen Colbert, Mario Batali, and Joan Rivers to ordinary folks around the world, everyone has a six-word story to tell. My Review: I think this is the perfect book for, uhmmmm, browsing while you're stuck in Uncle John's sacred space. Sometimes funny, a few placed perfectly to cause loss of consciousness every few pages. A must-acquire for those facing airplane travel, and an essential distraction source for the "death meetings."

Review # 2 was written on 2021-01-19 00:00:00 Jason Peden Warning: This is not a book. Disclaimer: Who cares? The 6-word experiment produced some interesting results. See below: Q: Danced in Fields of Infinite Possibilities. ... Boy, if I had a hammer. ... After Harvard, had baby with crackhead. ... Born in the desert, still thirsty. ... No future, no past. Not lost. ... Fourteen years old, story still untold. ... One long train ride to darkness. ... Stranded by ten-thousand-mile crush. ... Oldest of five. Four degrees. Broke. ... Made a mess. Cleaned it up. ... My family is overflowing with therapists. ... Tow truck drivers are my psychiatrists. ... You are all in my imagination. ... Followed white rabbit. Became black sheep. ... I thought I was someone else. ... Followed rules, not dreams. Never again. ... Anything's possible with an extension cord. ... Oklahoma girl meets world. Regrets it. ... Near death experience sare my forte. ... She walked barefoot in wet cement. ... Enjoying my fuck ups too much. ... Still lost on road less traveled. ... Glass half full; pockets half empty. ... We undercover agents need mental toughness. ... Running away: best decision I made. ... After eighteen years, sold my book. ... Some collect coins, I collect diplomas. ... I fell far from the tree. ... I think, therefore I am bald. ... Should not have eaten those mushrooms. ... Always working on the next chapter. ... Yes, you can edit this biography. ... Three marriages. Thirteen novels. Sleep's overrated. ... I'd rather be watching a movie. ... Never could resist overachieving. ... Wanted to live forever, died trying. ... A new memoir every five years. ... If there's more, I want it. ... It's like forever, only much shorter. ... God, grant me patience. Right now. ... Topless dancer. Circus clown. Spy. Writer. ... Often alone, office drone, feisty crone. ... Not quite what I was planning… ... I inhale battles. I exhale victories. ... Strange like cat. Smart like rat. ... My family did notkill me. ... Things happen because I see holes. ... The freaks, they always find me. ... Got a pony, broke my arm. ... She read too much… into everything. ... Don't marry a lawyer, be one. (c)