- Hardcover: 336 pages
- Publisher: Putnam Adult; First Edition edition (April 17, 2012)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 0399159010
- ISBN-13: 978-0399159015
- Product Dimensions: 6.3 x 1.1 x 9.3 inches
- Shipping Weight: 1 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
- Average Customer Review: 4,147 customer reviews
- Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #75,409 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number.
Other Sellers on Amazon
+ $3.99 shipping
Let's Pretend This Never Happened: (A Mostly True Memoir) Hardcover – April 17, 2012
|New from||Used from|
Frequently bought together
Customers who bought this item also bought
Lancaster: You appear to have a soft spot for dead, stuffed creatures, particularly if they’re clad in bowler hats or acting out a scene--please explain.
Lawson: My father is a professional taxidermist, so it’s not like I had a fighting chance. And besides, I think the real question here is, who wouldn’t be interested in ferrets in cancan dresses? Old anthropomorphic taxidermy is fascinating and I’ve collected an entire menagerie of creatures that make up my personal posse. Cuban pirate alligators, Shakespearean mice, heavily armed squirrels, vampire-slaying ducklings. I’m not sure how you say no to those. My husband can, but I’m fairly sure there’s something not right about him. Anyone who can turn his nose up at the Last Supper constructed of Victorian kittens has a problem. I suspect it’s because he’s a Republican.
Lancaster: Who would you say is more powerful, The Bloggess Army or the KISS Army? Compare and contrast.
Lawson: My gut says the Bloggess Army is a bit more intimidating because we don’t dress up like kitties, but I’d probably still pick the KISS Army because Gene Simmons scares the shit out of me. Plus, my fans are less of an army and more of a collection of misfit minions looking to have a good time. Actually, now that I think about it, there’s probably a lot of crossover with the KISS Army. We should host a potluck together.
Lancaster: Can you believe some people don’t know what a confidence wig is?
Lawson: Right?! It’s shocking how often I walk in with one and I hear people whispering about the poor cancer patient that just walked in. I’m not a cancer patient, people. I just wear a wig to increase confidence. Plus, if I really mortify myself, I can just run to the bathroom, throw away the wig, and come back in and ask everyone who invited the crazy blonde that just crawled out of the bathroom window. There is no downside.
Lancaster: What’s it going to take for Nathan Fillion to send you a photo of himself holding a ball of twine?
Lawson: I think it’s going to take Nathan Fillion holding a ball of twine. I’ve offered him thousands of dollars and he still rebuffs me. I have no idea what the hold up is, but I can only imagine that Nathan Fillion is allergic to either twine or to bringing smiles to the faces of strange women who really aren’t asking for that much, Nathan.
Lancaster: Complete this sentence: “An oversized metal chicken…”
Lawson: “Means never having to say you’re sorry. Because it’s not towels.”
Lancaster: Snooki or Kim Kardashian?
Lawson: Alphabetically, or in order of who is most likely to fuck up the youth of America? Because those are two different answers. Or possibly they aren’t, now that I think about it.
Lancaster: What would you be doing if you weren’t writing? (“Hard time” is an acceptable and, frankly, the anticipated answer, FYI.)
Lawson: Well, I was going to say “hard time” but now you’ve ruined it. Which makes me feel stabby. Which leads to hard time. I think this is an example of circular logic. In real life, though, I’d be writing. Before my book it was blogging and before blogging, it was journaling and several times in between, it was graffiti. Writers write always. I thought Ray Bradbury said that, but I can’t find the quote anywhere so I’m taking credit for it. Writers write always.
Lancaster: I don’t consider you a mommyblogger, but many PR companies do. What’s the worst pitch you’ve gotten?
Lawson: Once a PR exec accidentally “replied to all” and called me “a fucking bitch” after I asked them to stop sending me pitches about a Kardashian wearing panty hose. He replied that I should feel flattered that I was even viewed as relevant enough to be pitched to, and I replied “Please stand by for a demonstration of relevancy” and tweeted it out to hundreds of thousands of people. It was kind of awesome. And terrifying.
Lancaster: Wil Wheaton or William Shatner?
Lawson: Wil Wheaton. Unless we’re doing the “destroying America thing” again. Then I have to recalculate. William Shatner and I are still recovering from a feud that was covered by MSNBC and Gawker when he refused to come to my house after I apparently offered him the wrong type of hooker. That man is a damn diva. Wil Wheaton, on the other hand, is an officer and a gentleman. William Shatner could learn a lot from that man.
Lancaster: If you had one piece of advice for someone hoping to follow your career path, what would it be?
Lawson: My one word of advice would be “FORTHELOVEOOFGODDON’T.” I’ve fallen backward into this, and I have done every single thing wrong. I have no sacred cows and am fairly unmarketable to any mainstream advertisers. I burn bridges because I like the pretty way they glow and I do exactly the opposite of everything I’m ever told to do. Thank God there’s a steady stream of intellectual misfits and misanthropic joy-seekers who get me, because that’s the only thing that’s saved me. Finding my tribe was a great gift that the Internet gave me. I returned the favor with tweets about shit my cat was doing. We’re pretty even.
Lancaster: What’s it like to ride around in your head for the day?
Lawson: Cramped. Exhausting. Exhilarating. Baffling. I have no way to compare it, but whenever I let slip the bizarre things I’m thinking about, people seem alarmed and step away slowly, so I think “disorientating” is probably fair as well.
In this mordant memoir, Lawson, who calls herself “The Bloggess,” displays the wit that’s made her a hit on the Web. She makes hilarious hay out of her rural Texas upbringing, during which her taxidermist father thought nothing of bringing feral creatures into the house (on her future husband Victor’s first visit to meet the family, dear old Dad tossed a baby bobcat into the unsuspecting lad’s lap). Plagued by anxiety attacks, Lawson is loath to go out in public, and when she does, she inevitably makes a scene. At a Halloween party, she regales guests with a tale of being attacked by a serial killer (turns out it was just her corpulent cat). Lawson, whose award-winning website, TheBloggess.com, averages more than half-a-million page-views per month, delivers some mild moments among the mayhem. At a women’s retreat replete with bonding and wine, she happily discovers that girls really aren’t so bad. Lawson is funny, but her over-the-top tales eventually take their toll, prompting jaded readers to wonder how much of this stuff she’s making up. --Allison Block
Top customer reviews
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
Highly relatable, witty, and fresh, "Let's Pretend" had me laughing aloud by page ten, and I never really stopped.
Even her use of profanity is clever. Had she been inclined to preface each with, "please excuse my French," one would, in short order, assume her a multi-cultural linguist. However, Lawson sets herself apart from most authors in that the cursing never seems forced, childish, or derogatory; to the contrary, the words are used to color a scene and elevate the laugh-level of the reader.
If there existed a way for me to force you to purchase and consume this book, then I would, and you'd feel so completely in my debt that you'd probably send me gifts of gold (white, please), jewels (black pearls make my heart flutter), and offer to babysit my children for free (I would happily forfeit ANY amount of material pleasure for a break from these mini, soul-crushing... blessings 😇).
Buy this book. Do it for yourself; do it out of guilt for missing ab day; and do it for The Queen!!!!!
In short, read this book. Immediately. You'll thank me - after you catch your breath.
Lawson starts off the book by throwing the reader into the deep end of her humor and really doesn’t let them resurface until after finishing the book. Beginning with her childhood in Wall, Texas, Lawson goes through her quirky life from one embarrassing moment to another especially since her own father was a quirky taxidermist whose business was in the backyard AND that was before she even started school. Misadventures in high school—mainly dealing with a cow—and college follow, and it is in the latter where she meets her husband in which the most hilarious moments of her life begin. And through her marriage with Victor, the birth of their daughter, and move out into Texas countryside the misadventures only continue with predictably hilarious, yet embarrassing results.
It’s hard to really evaluate a humorous memoir, except grading it on the content of its own humor. Honestly, given how much I looked forward to reading this book each day and the fact I had to stop reading out of either laughing or just being embarrassed at the author’s own embarrassing situations means it succeeded. Yet on top of that is Lawson’s faux notes from her editor(s) just add to the overall experience of the book. And the added bonus chapter of the paperback of notes from her promotional tour is a cherry on top of everything.
Let’s Pretend This Never Happened is a hilarious memoir of a woman who owns up to her embarrassing moments, cherishes them, and knows they made her who she is. Though this wasn’t the first book by Jenny Lawson that I’ve read, yet now I can see why it became a bestseller and has led to a few more books by Lawson.
It's at it's best when shared with a friend, while clutching your sides and shrieking with laughter...right before you fall into that silent laughter, where you're laughing so hard that you can't breathe and no sound comes out, and it sort of feeds on itself, so that when you eventually recover and are able to get back to your place on the page, you realize you hadn't even reached the punchline yet.
However, amidst the laughter and the tears is the very serious and very real experience of an exceptionally courageous woman baring her soul and her neuroses and mental landscape with such glaring and insightful honesty that it is also truly humbling. You're either going to find yourself a whole lot more appreciative that your crazy isn't as much a burden, or you're going to find out that you're not the only one in the world who has a whole lot more baggage to haul than everyone else does and that sadly, life is not fair, often unpleasant and, quite frankly, most of it you just have to either laugh or cry through.
Most of us would just cry, so Jenny, being able to laugh and make us laugh with her (never at her) is an incredibly beautiful soul indeed.
May I also say, severe admiration and kudos to her husband, who does make appearances, another unsung hero (well, truly appreciated by Jenny)... but basically a regular guy with a great heart who, like so many in life who rise each morning to the unforeseen challenges lying ahead, does his best to meet them and make it through.
I loved this so much that I automatically bought "Furiously Happy" - the second book.
Bonding with my family has never been so much fun or so easy. Same for counting blessings, broadening one's compassion and seeing this world from a whole new crazy angle.