Category: Book Reviews

Book Review: Jennette McCurdy’s I’m Glad My Mom Died

*BE WARNED: SPOILERS AHEAD*

A Little Summary

In 2022, Jennette McCurdy released her autobiography controversially titled I’m Glad My Mom Died. The title alone was enough for me to pick up the book, as I’m sure was the case for many of her readers.

If you’re not familiar with Jennette McCurdy, she is most well-known for her role on the Nickelodeon teen show iCarly (2007-2012) in which she played the role of Carly’s loveable yet troubled best friend, Sam Puckett. Following iCarly, McCurdy also had a spin-off show, Sam & Cat (2013-2014), in which she reprised the role of Sam Puckett and co-starred alongside Ariana Grande as Cat. As you might have gathered from this brief description of McCurdy’s primary acting credits, she was a child star and—as is the case for many child stars—suffered because of her early childhood stardom.

The suffering that McCurdy describes, though, is like nothing I’ve ever encountered before in an autobiography. She chronicles the horribly toxic, destructive, and abusive relationship she had with her mother while growing up and how that relationship eventually forced her to reframe her entire childhood and life: McCurdy had to accept that her mother’s behaviour toward her was not purely out of love—as her mother would have her believe—but stark abuse and manipulation. 

In the book, McCurdy details accounts of abuse from her mother such as forcing her to audition for television shows and films at an extremely young age; encouraging her to work long hours on set despite the conditions; introducing her to calorie restriction and anorexia at a young age so she could stay small in stature and continue to audition for younger roles; showering her and giving her invasive bodily exams until she was in her late teens; and controlling her familial relationships, friendships, work relationships, and sexual relationships.

To be quite honest, it’s difficult to try and capture the full scope of the book in a short summary since every chapter explores a different form of abuse or trauma: there is no simple plotline and no complete resolution. 

So, let’s just dive into the good stuff, some critique, and whether or not I recommend you read this book, shall we?   

All the Good Stuff

The first thing I want to mention is McCurdy’s authorial voice. Although she had some help from an editor—she thanks her editor in the “Acknowledgements”—her voice still comes through as real, raw, and even rowdy at times. I mean, she doesn’t hold back at all: she shares her innermost thoughts regarding her mother despite the fact that some of them might be construed as morbid, sordid, or insensitive; she includes whole emails and messages sent by her mother to showcase their dysfunctional relationship rather than simply providing summary; she gives explicit accounts of her intimate and sexual relationships, as well as how her mother strangely tried to control those relationships; and she unapologetically ends the book by stating that she’s never going to return to her mother’s grave. McCurdy is so honest about everything and it’s something worth appreciating. Additionally, her relentless authenticity dismantles the common belief that mother-daughter relationships are inherently healthy. The truth is, some of them aren’t, and she allows us to see that.

The second thing I want to mention is the fact that—perhaps inadvertently but perhaps not—McCurdy provides real-life examples of what sexual assault, abuse, harassment, and manipulation can look like. There is the example I noted earlier where McCurdy’s mother showered her and performed bodily exams upon her, which was clearly a violation of her bodily and sexual autonomy. McCurdy also shares an experience she had with “The Creator”—a man with whom she worked on iCarly—where he inappropriately massaged her. Finally—there are likely other examples in the book, but this is the last one I wish to discuss—McCurdy describes a sexual encounter she had with a much older boyfriend where he basically guilted her into giving him oral sex because she refused to have intercourse with him. This one was difficult for me to read but I’m so glad she included it because it is likely one of the most common forms of sexual abuse: guilting someone into sex. This form of sexual abuse can occur even in long-term relationships and marriages. I have definitely experienced this kind of abuse in past relationships without even realizing it was abuse, and I’m sure countless others can relate, too. It’s important to show that sexual abuse comes in various shapes and forms, and McCurdy does just that in her autobiography. 

I feel like I’ve been going on forever but there’s one more thing I’d like to mention before I get to some critique (and, spoiler alert, I don’t have a lot of critique for this book). It’s quite possible that someone might pick up this book and simply choose not to read it because McCurdy is a star and—let’s be real—a star writing about her problems can easily come off as being ungrateful or jaded. The thing that I like about McCurdy, though, is that she’s very aware of her social position and privilege. In fact, she openly recognizes her privilege many times throughout the book, which is a necessary part of writing a confession-style autobiography like hers.   

Some Critique

Like I said, I don’t really have a whole lot of critique for this book. It’s difficult to critique someone’s subjective experience, especially when they present it in such an empowering manner as McCurdy does.

I suppose one thing worth mentioning—though it’s not really a critique per se—is that this book could potentially be very triggering for individuals currently working through or recovering from an eating disorder; for individuals recovering from an alcohol addiction; for individuals who experienced abuse within their own home growing up; for individuals who have been sexually assaulted or abused; or for individuals who are struggling with dysfunctional family relationships. I don’t get triggered very easily by anything, so it was easy for me to appreciate the book. However, I realize that others might not be in the same boat as me when it comes to their triggers.

Another thing—but, again, not really a critique—is that McCurdy does not offer a complete resolution at the end of the book. Yes, she decides that she is never going to visit her mother’s grave again, but it’s clear that she has only begun healing her relationship with her deceased mother and herself. Some readers might find this open ending to be a bit dark or depressing. I actually enjoyed the open ending as it’s real, raw, and rowdy, just like McCurdy’s authorial voice. 

Should You Read I’m Glad My Mom Died?

If you are not easily triggered then, yes, I think Jennette McCurdy’s I’m Glad My Mom Died is definitely worth a read. To be blunt, it’s one of the best books I’ve read in some time. 

Additionally, if you’re hesitant and think the content might be too heavy for you, let me just say this: even though the book is, indeed, quite heavy and dark, McCurdy has a sense of humour about everything, and her sense of humour in no way detracts from the serious subject matter of the book. It actually complements it, if that makes sense.

And if it doesn’t make sense, well, then I guess you’ll have to read the book to find out just what I mean, now won’t you?

Book Review: Stephen King’s Finders Keepers

*BE WARNED: SPOILERS AHEAD*

A Little Summary

For all of you Stephen King fans out there, you probably already know that Finders Keepers (2015) is the second part of the Bill Hodges Trilogy: a series of novels that follows the adventures of retired detective, Bill Hodges. For all the rest of you, well, now you know.

The first part of the Bill Hodges Trilogy, Mr. Mercedes (2014), tells the tragic and twisted tale of how a disturbed young man, Brady Hartsfield, commits a mass murder by driving a stolen Mercedes into a crowd of unsuspecting victims. We then see Bill hunting down Brady with the help of a couple unlikely friends: a young high schooler named Jerome Robinson and a socially awkward middle-aged woman named Holly Gibney. Brady is still alive at the end of the novel but living in a care home or hospital after Holly smashes his head in with a sock full of ball-bearings known as the “happy slapper.”

Fittingly, Finders Keepers is centered upon one of the families affected by Brady’s mass murder: the Saubers’. The father, Tom Saubers, is injured during the incident, which directly leads to him not being able to work or contribute income to their household. After resorting to moving to a less expensive area of the city, Tom’s son Pete stumbles upon a buried treasure chest—quite literally, a chest—in the undeveloped land behind their new home. The chest is filled with cash and dozens of unpublished novels written by an author who was murdered decades prior to Pete finding the treasure chest. Pete anonymously sends the cash to his parents at regular intervals over an extended period of time to help get them back on their feet financially while hoarding the novels for himself. What Pete doesn’t know is that the man—the murderer—who buried the cash and novels in the first place is not only still alive but has recently been set free from prison.

The rest of the narrative follows Pete in his struggle to keep secretly providing for his family financially, which subsequently leads to his violent encounter with the murderer, Morris Bellamy. Of course, Bill, Holly, and Jerome reenter this narrative early on and eventually come to Pete’s rescue. It wouldn’t be the Bill Hodges Trilogy without Bill, right?  

All the Good Stuff

So, it’s no surprise that I love a good Stephen King novel. I mean, I spent two years in graduate school writing a thesis that praises his works. The Bill Hodges Trilogy—or at least the first two parts of the trilogy—is very different than anything I’ve read from King, though. It’s a straight up detective story: retired detective who just can’t quit; mysterious and violent crimes; unlikely friends working together to piece together said crimes. Additionally—unlike many of King’s older works which depend upon a supernatural framework—the first two parts in the Bill Hodges Trilogy are supernatural-free. Well, there’s the tiniest glimpse of the potential to connect to the supernatural in some way at the end of Finders Keepers, but I’ll have to wait and see where that goes in the last part of the trilogy, End of Watch (2016).  

Even though King steps away from the horror genre in Finders Keepers, there are still many things to love about the novel; the first being the fast-paced nature of the novel. Now, I haven’t read many detective novels, but Finders Keepers—as well as Mr. Mercedes, for that matter—are both fairly fast-paced (in my opinion, anyway). There are no lulls in the plotline and King always finds a way to end each chapter with a bang. So, it’s quite enjoyable to read in that sense.

The second aspect of the novel that I deeply enjoy is how King switches character perspective from chapter to chapter. For instance, the novel starts with Morris and the murder of renowned author, John Rothstein, followed by a chapter that takes place decades later from the perspective of the Saubers family. And we get this back and forth of character perspective throughout the novel. I think this contributes even more to the fast-paced nature of the novel.

The last aspect of the novel that I would like to mention—though I could definitely add a few more to this list—is Holly Gibney. As far as relatable characters go, Holly is it for me. She’s quiet, reserved, a touch socially awkward, a logical and critical thinker, and describes a couple situations as poopy throughout the novel. I don’t think I’ve related to a character more in my life. In fact, one of the first things my dad mentioned to me when he recommended the Bill Hodges Trilogy is how the main female character uses the word poopy just like I do. I know it’s strange to fixate on this one characteristic, but I’ve never read a character written this way in a book up until the Bill Hodges Trilogy and it makes me feel weirdly connected to Holly. 

Aside from the language, I also appreciate the way that Holly grows as a character throughout Mr. Mercedes and Finders Keepers: she goes from being an almost-mute stranger in Bill’s eyes to his best friend and basically detective partner. I love the friendship King builds between Bill and Holly. It’s refreshing to see a male-female relationship in a novel that does not turn into a romantic entanglement. I can’t wait to see how Holly develops further in End of Watch.

If she dies, I will start an uprising. Only kidding. But I will be extremely disappointed. 

Some Critique

On the subject of Holly, my main critique of the novel is that I wanted to see more of her. I understand that, being a naturally quiet and reserved character, it would be uncharacteristic to have her in the spotlight too much, but I would have liked to see her just a little bit more. Don’t get me wrong, she is very involved in saving Pete at the end of the novel and plays a major role in piecing together the story of Morris’ connection to the chest Pete finds buried behind his home, but I just wanted to hear and see her more. Do you know what I mean? I think she’s a more well drawn character than Bill, actually, so maybe that’s why I wanted to see her more. Bill can come off as flat and one-dimensional at times while Holly is a fully rounded-out character, and that’s impressive since she doesn’t seem to have as much page-time in the novel as Bill.

My other critique of Finders Keepers is that the plotline is oftentimes predictable. There are no real twists or turns in the narrative and the plot plays out exactly as the reader would expect. The only real mystery in this novel is Brady: Bill visits Brady in his care home or hospital several times throughout the course of the novel because he suspects that Brady is not quite as debilitated as he appears to be. And at the end of the novel, it appears that Bill was right all along. After Bill leaves the care home or hospital room, we see Brady turning on an electronic device beside him, turning on the faucets in his bathroom, and knocking over a framed picture of him and his mother without even touching anything. This is the hint of supernatural I referred to earlier on in this review.

Is it possible Brady gained psychic abilities after Holly slapped him upside the head with the “happy slapper”? It appears so. 

Should You Read Finders Keepers?

Overall, it is my opinion so far that Mr. Mercedes and Finders Keepers are both worth reading. I think the fact that King steps away from the horror genre in these two novels makes them more appealing to a wider audience than his older works. However, if you prefer the old-school King novels, you might not like these two novels as much and find them a bit disappointing in the sense that they’re not necessarily bone-chilling or spooky in any way, shape, or form. 

If End of Watch is awful—which I’m not expecting it to be—then I might change my mind.

But so far, so good.

Stay tuned.