God, I hated this book, thoroughly. She's got the whole MS thing that you don't find out about until, what -- a hundred pages into it -- even though it's supposedly what's fueling her passion to form a band? And then she just kind of drops it only to bring it out and mention it in passing from time to time, but she never describes how the MS affects her life except to say that it does. Then there's the structure of the book, how it keeps jumping back into her past for no apparent reason (I mean, really, why does she keep going back to her childhood at those odd moments when the memory she's describing has nothing to do with what comes before or after -- they're just odd non-sequiturs). Some of the writing was fairly hackneyed, too -- that part with her "marrying" the stage made me want to crawl under a table out of embarrassment for her. I also got pretty sick of listening to her complain about how her band never got any breaks -- they were a mediocre band that had a couple of okay songs and, by her own admission, they seemed pretty ready and willing to cancel shows and tours because they were tired or bored -- not really the sort of thing a band struggling to make it should do.


I felt like there was a good book in there if she'd just stuck with the band on the road and cut out all the whining and "we-coulda-been-contendas" crap. But that's what the book was -- whining and complaining that they never caught a break. And I think the only reason it got published and pushed as much as it did was because she's Mrs. Paul Westerberg.

Sorry for the rant -- I was just really ticked off by that book.