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I am not usually interested in memoirs. They normally tend towards narcissism and inflated self-importance; however, Amy Fusselman's was written with careful attention to the beautiful, collective experiences of which life is composed. She also touches on a childhood trauma that she has since overcome (though still affects her), yet it is never the focal point of the memoir. Rather, it serves to emphasize universal feelings and fears we all have realized at some point. She also integrates themes of parenting, self-expression, and the significance of life.