When I heard my library was closing for the long holiday, I ran to stock up on books, including two by actress/author Carrie Fisher, who, unbeknownst to me, had just suffered a serious heart attack on a plane coming back from London.
Wishful Drinking and Shockaholic, peeked from my bag like two stowaways with a secret.
It was as though I subconsciously knew, and wanted to read her words since they may have been her last.
Apparently though initially critical, Carrie is doing fine, so after finishing both books that were more than entertaining, I may go buy her latest, The Princess Diarist.
I’m sure you know she’s the daughter of actress Debbie Reynolds and crooner, as she calls her dad, Eddie Fisher who became infamous leaving Debbie for Elizabeth Taylor when Carrie was only 3.
As always, I’m very impressed by candor, hers being top of the line almost too much so, Madam Fisher holding no prisoners in the truth department.
I enjoyed Shockaholic more, the sequel of sorts to Wishful Drinking, also a One Woman Show she performs across the country, in my opinion, being a little like cake with too much frosting.
I needed more cake if you will…too many punchlines with not enough pulp.
Despite that, Fisher is smart, clever, funny and tremendously brave sharing her darkness through drug addiction, deaths of friends and her ongoing dance with depression.
She’s not short on material, that’s for sure, making me want to write more openly without fear of being judged, so even without the cake, I’m pretty moved by Carrie Fisher.
With her beloved French Bulldog, Gary