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Bobblehead Dad: 25 Life Lessons I Forgot I Knew by Jim Higley
My rating: 2.5 of 5 stars

Bobblehead Dad by Jim Higley is a nonlinear memoir told in the form of 25 lesson the author has learned during his life. In his forties, the author was diagnosed with prostate cancer and had to take stock of his life, the legacy he was given by his family, and the legacy he would leave to his children. He described himself as a bobblehead in the introduction, a plastic figure who always had a constant smile no matter what influences or stimuli were thrown at him and simply bobbled throughout his day, but that it was still a plastic smile and he wasn’t really living. Hence the title of the book.

The lessons are short and seem to be pretty much common sense, although the author acknowledges this near the end of the book. He explains that while most people know these lessons and they may seem easy, they also seem to be difficult to actually put into practice. It would have been better if the author had acknowledged this near the beginning of the book rather than at the end, because it leads to a bit of frustration and forehead slapping.

The author’s story is told in a nonlinear style. Each chapter/lesson is divided into two parts. The first is a personal memory, usually of growing up in a house where he was the youngest of five boys. At the age of fourteen, he lost his mother rather suddenly to brain cancer. Later, he lost his father, and then his brother, both to cancer. He shares personal memories of these particular parts of his life. The second part of each chapter involves how these parts influenced his feelings and reactions during the time he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, the time leading up to his surgery, and his recovery. Each chapter concludes with the lesson that he took away these experiences.

There are some distinct problems with Bobblehead Dad, the first being the title. Higley describes what he means by being a bobblehead in the introduction. This is where the problem starts, however. Through the rest of the book, I just don’t get it. It didn’t make sense as to why or how being a bobblehead related to these lessons. It seems like he forgot what the original motif was shortly after starting it. So, why he chose the title and went to the trouble of describing what he meant in the introduction seemed confusing and ultimately disappointing, like getting literary blue balls.

I can tell what Higley is going for with his nonlinear storytelling in the memoir. It creates an interesting feel, and he’s clearly going for the effect of pulling different pieces of his life together like a jigsaw puzzle to use as teachable moments and ultimate lesson that he has at the end of the book. The only problem is that it…just…doesn’t…quite…work, at least not for this reviewer. Let me be clear that there’s a certain charm to the approach. There definitely is. At the same time, though, it can be frustrating or, at worst, confusing as the reader tries to piece together this life from different non-contiguous and nonlinear parts. It’s a style that I found interesting, but it also feels like it needed more time to cook.

Ultimately, Bobblehead Dad was not without it’s interesting moments or style, and I can’t fault Higley for trying something a little new and in a style that’s not seen often. It’s part memoir and part self-help book. At the same time, it’s not without some major problems and at times falls flat, and while the style of the book is interesting, it felt like the style was also experimental needed more time time and editing. My heart goes out to the author and his family for the struggles they’ve gone through in fighting his cancer and the losses they’ve suffered. But this book feels like it comes up short in telling of this struggle, which makes it difficult to fully recommend.

Bobblehead Dad earns 2.5 out of 5 stars.

Note: A free Advanced Reader’s Copy of this book was sent to this reviewer through a Goodreads First Read giveaway. This did not affect this review in any way.

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Your Voice in My Head by Emma Forrest
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Your Voice in My Head by Emma Forrest can be very uncomfortable to read, not because it is a memoir about mental illness, depression, mania, cutting, attempted suicide, and death, but because it is a humorous memoir about mental illness, depression, mania, cutting, attempted suicide, and death.

To start, I have a confession to make. I didn’t know who Emma Forrest was before reading this book. She’s published a few other books, written screenplays, blogs, worked as a journalist, and has been involved in a high-profile Hollywood romance. And yet I didn’t know about her before now. So I started reading this book without any foreknowledge of who she is or what she’s done.

The book follows the author’s journey through being diagnosed with mental illness (more particularly as a manic/depressive) and meeting with a therapist, identified simply as Dr. R, who she credits with saving her life and being an eternal optimist. At one point, she calls his office to make an appointment and gets a machine saying that the office is closed, and then receives an email a couple of weeks later informing her that her therapist had died suddenly. None of his patients knew he was sick and was fighting lung cancer for several months. The book is sprinkled with short testimonials from Dr. R’s other patients about what he did for them or their relationship with him (these patients are not identified except for a first name or an initial to maintain confidentiality, as Dr. R is said to have had some high-profile patients).

Emma Forrest could be described as a serial dater, at least by her descriptions of her relationships in this book. During her dating trials, she settles into a relationship with a man she refers to only as her “Gypsy Husband,” or GH, who is a popular actor and celebrity. He is never actually named otherwise in the book, but it’s fairly obvious who it is, and you can find out who through a quick internet search. This relationship does not last, and is dealt with as one of the most heartbreaking moments in her life because they had been planning a family and they truly seemed to love each other. Be warned that this is not a tell-all book. Only the emotional parts of the relationship are described in detail, and only for a short time until the break-up. In fact, much more time is spent talking about the aftermath of the break-up than the relationship itself.

The writing style in this book is engrossing, to say the least. At times, it’s hard to say what’s real, what’s artistic license, and what is simply in the author’s head. Most of the time, it seems fairly obvious, but at times, I’m not too sure. But it’s also extremely disjointed, which may be a symptom of the author’s mania. The book is not told in an entirely linear manner, which sometimes gets a little confusing, but not too much so that it takes away from the book.

The voice in the author’s head is obviously supposed to be the therapist, to whom the book feels as though it could be written to as a single long letter. However, this sometimes becomes questionable as the author hears several voices in her head, such GH (especially post-breakup) or her parents. It can sometimes be downright scary as the reader genuinely wonders if there really are voices in her head, or if these voices are the same ones that everyone imagines at some point while they think things through.

Even with all of this, the story is generally told in a rather funny style. The author uses side thoughts and quips throughout the narrative that indicates that she has a sense of humor about herself and her own foibles. She’s genuinely able to look back and laugh at herself, even at times that seem inappropriate. During these humorous parts, the reader can feel weird or bad by laughing at things that it would be otherwise inappropriate to laugh at if the author hadn’t been describing it in a funny way and obviously laughing at it herself, and even then you can feel a little guilty about it. However, the book gets more serious and loses most of the humor near the end, which made the book very uneven. While the author ultimately moves on with her life, it still makes the book end on a down note.

I can definitely say that I liked the book, but I don’t know that can say that my feelings extend much beyond that. While the book is humorous and interesting, and it explores aspects of therapy and mental illness that aren’t often explored, such as what happens to the patients emotionally when a therapist suddenly dies, it’s also very uneven and feels whiny after a while. My sympathies extend to the author for her struggles and for her heartbreak, but it reaches a point where I don’t want to read about her self-pity anymore. It feels excessive. Other readers may feel differently, much like how different friends will have different tolerance for their friends’ self-pity during hardships. I feel for the author, but my pity can only go so far.

Overall, it’s a decent book with interesting aspects, but can get very frustrating at times, especially in the second half after her break-up with GH. It’s a personal story told from a unique perspective that deals with the emotion aspects of therapy and relationships and when they go wrong rather than simply the practical side of these events. But the author begins to wallow in self-pity so much that it becomes difficult to get through as you get to the end. This is what I would describe as almost a purely emotional memoir. Most of what we’re told is what the author is thinking or feeling, rather than what is going on in the real world. An interesting look inside the head of someone in mental and emotional turmoil, but frustrating, nonetheless.

Your Voice in My Head earns three out of five stars.

Note: A copy of this book was sent to this reviewer for free by the publisher (Other Press) through the Goodreads First Reads program. This did not affect this review in any way.

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Muscle Memory 2: More Muscle, More Memory! by Steve Lowe
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

WARNING: The following review contains spoilers from the first Muscle Memory. My review for that book can be read here.

Do I take the blue pill and forget any of this ever happened, or do I take the red pill and see how far down the rabbit hole goes?

There’s been something of an epidemic in films lately, although some could argue that it’s a problem that’s always been there. I refer to it as the Matrix Syndrome. Filmmakers create a great standalone film, one that is fantastic and could even be argued as a classic. That is, if they left it alone. These filmmakers decide that, rather than having the one great film, they want to turn it into a franchise, and they produce sequels that are not only terrible films, but are so bad that they tarnish would have otherwise been the sterling legacy of the first film.

When Steve Lowe announced that he was working on a sequel to Muscle Memory, I was understandably worried. Had the Matrix Syndrome infected the literary world as well? The first Muscle Memory was a very good book, with an unusual take on the body-swap meme. At the same time, it was also story of Billy’s self-discovery, and of his own obliviousness of his wife’s condition (postpartum depression) which he didn’t realize until it was too late. It was an excellent standalone book that couched a certain appropriate emotion impact within a bunch of craziness and general silliness.

So, having read the sequel, has the Matrix Syndrome affected Muscle Memory? Yes and no.

In the first Muscle Memory, Billy swapped bodies with his wife, who had poisoned him the night before, so he was trapped in his wife’s body, and his wife was now presumable in his dead body, or had been. Nearly everyone in their town had switched bodies with someone, usually whoever they were closest too at the time, while their neighbor Edgar swapped bodies with one of his sheep. You can interpret that how you want to. It ended with a machine that had supposedly cause the whole thing (at least, according to Terry Bradshaw) being switched back on, which would theoretically switch people back. Billy expects that he’ll be put back in his now dead body and therefore be dead. It ended with him seeing a blue flash of light.

Muscle Memory 2 picks up right where the first one ended. Since both books are told from Billy’s perspective, he obviously didn’t die. Instead it appears that rather than putting everyone back where they were supposed to be, it just swapped everyone again. This meant that while several people were supposedly put back as they remained close to the one who they switched with, other swaps wound up occurring instead. We have the return of several characters and references, particularly Terry Bradshaw, Kirk Cameron, and Agents Tim and Joey from the now kinder, gentler FBI,and we even get an appearance of a very gangsta Matt Lauer (portrayed in such a way that I’m now wondering if Steve Lowe had some kind of personal run-in with Lauer that left him with a bad taste in his mouth). I can’t go into much without spoiling this book given its short length, but suffice to say craziness and silliness ensue, and with more intensity than the first book.

The problem is that Muscle Memory 2 doesn’t have the emotional impact that the first book had, and a lot of the silliness seems to be there for the sake of being silly and nothing else. I’ll admit that I did chuckle out loud at Matt Lauer’s portrayal. The author raises more questions than were answered. While not everything was answered in the first book, it still felt like we knew what we needed to know and it remained satisfying. Muscle Memory 2 raises questions that feel like they need answers that we’re not given, and it left me feeling a little empty. Things also get more serious and intense that it felt like it actually dampened part of the fun that could have been had.

Don’t get me wrong. Muscle Memory 2 is not a bad book by any means. It’s still a fun read. But I could take a page from the movie “The Weather Man” and describe it as fast food. It may taste good, but at the end it’s not really nourishing. Overall, it’s not bad and doesn’t tarnish the first book’s legacy, so it doesn’t suffer from the Matrix Syndrome, but it is disappointing when inevitably compared to the first book. I’m not sure if Steve Lowe is planning on writing a third book. As many questions and situations that came up during this book, this feels like it needs to be a trilogy, even at the risk of full-blown Matrixitis. If he does, I hope he takes a little more time to write it, as this book felt a little rushed and that some of these problem could have been dealt with with a little more time and editing.

Muscle Memory 2 earns three out of five stars.

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