- Paperback: 194 pages
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (November 20, 2016)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 1539934934
- ISBN-13: 978-1539934936
- Product Dimensions: 6 x 0.4 x 9 inches
- Shipping Weight: 12.5 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
- Average Customer Review: 4.9 out of 5 stars See all reviews (48 customer reviews)
- Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #1,880,109 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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Mommy Tried to Kill Me: Why It's Never too Early to Start Drinking in Paris Paperback – November 20, 2016
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About the Author
I'm a writer, standup comedian, and actress. You might have seen me on Seinfeld, in the episode where I got the last chocolate babka, ranked 25 out of all 169 episodes of Seinfeld. Or you might have seen me on Curb Your Enthusiasm, where Larry David calls me an asshole because I refuse to take off my sunglasses when we're inside eating lunch. I've traveled the world doing standup comedy, working for both the USO and MWR. I also toured the United States and Canada with my own comedy group, Single, Married & Divorced. My first memoir, Celebrity sTalker, is about all the Hollywood celebrities I've annoyed over the years. Mommy Tried to Kill Me is my second memoir. I've also been published in four anthologies, all available on Amazon. I live in Los Angeles, waiting for the next earthquake to kill all my enemies. Follow me on Twitter @hotcomestodie, Facebook at Suzy Soro. Also on Medium, LinkedIn, Google +, Ello, Tumblr, and social media platforms that haven't been invented yet.
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Top Customer Reviews
Suzy Soro is my favorite celebrity I've "met" online (she's also the only one who has ever responded to my emails or to tweets in which I mention her). She's hilarious, and I wish she still blogged. When I learned she had a new book out, I bought it immediately.
Suzy and her sister Lindy spent parts of their childhood living in France with their mother, who had gotten divorced from their father after twenty-nine years of marriage, and later married a Frenchman named Jean. But now little Suzy and Lindy are all grown up, and their mother is not running around Paris with Jean (thank God because he's dead). But she has become a lady of elderly or at least older status, who can still pull what Suzy and Lindy call "The French-Face: an eye roll up to the left, an almost imperceptible shake of the head, and a contemptuous, dismissive shrug. I'm a standup comic: I can recognize signs of contempt from space."
So the older lady who can French-Face with the best of them is eighty-nine, refuses to live in the United States so she can be near Suzy and Lindy, she's fallen in her Paris home and she doesn't have one of those buttons to push to say I've fallen and I can't get up (let me clue you in on something: those buttons are worthless because when I worked in a nursing home, we played host to a load of people who had fallen and couldn't get up and they had the button but couldn't remember how to push it or maybe their thumbs got cut off when they fell), so someone scooped her up and took her to the hospital. Suzy and Lindy travel to Paris to see their mother, and Suzy stays on to clean out the apartment her mother has decided to sell and to help darling French-Face Mommy recover.
This book is Suzy's memoir about her stay in Paris, doing the best she can to assist someone who does not want her assistance, and whose every conversation with Suzy "invariable devolves into what I'm doing wrong with my life, like how I never got a real job. And don't have a 401(k). Or at the very least, a husband with a real job and a 401(k)." Suzy also reveals plenty of interesting and unusual family secrets, including stories about her father's numerous wives.
Mommy Tried To Kill Me is poignant and Sorodonic (my combination of Soro and sardonic) by turns. When it gets too sad––as stories about elderly people who are injured and sinking into dementia must do, especially when they pick on the daughter who is doing her utmost to help out while freezing to death in Paris and trying to remember the French that has pretty much absented itself from her brain––you can count on Suzy to come up with a Sorokism (my combination of Soro, which means funny in some language other than French, and some sarcasm): "If parents want to hide something, they should attach it to their keys. They can never find those."
Mommy Tried To Kill Me: Why It's Never Too Early To Start Drinking In Paris earns The Janie Junebug Seal Of Highest Hilarical Tinged By Whimsy And Weirdness Approval.
Anyone who is "our age" knows that taking care of an elderly, ill parent is not for wimps. Suzy is certainly not a wimp. She not only cared for her Mom, but dealt with all that entails in another language!
There were many laughs and many tears in this book, sometimes in the same paragraph.
I've shared the book with my own Mom and almost every day we talk about our favorite parts.
I can't wait for Suzy's next book.
This was an enjoyable book that worked quite well for the read-a-few-pages-here-and-there style of travel reading.
I love her ‘if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong’ tales about her life as she jumps from the side of her bedridden mother in France, to her hovel, er, I mean apartment in California. I still haven’t decided whether her sister is friend or foe. I got right into this book because the author and I have the same math skills, and 200 grams really does mean 200 grandmothers. It’s sad that she had to explain that to the rest of you.
I hope someday Ms. Soro will reiterate and explain exactly what she meant by “Horses were my first real boyfriends.” Um, what? The author touches all of our emotions in this novel which reads like a voyage of self-discovery. I’m glad I found this sweet and sour story.
This book is funny, and it’s sad. And then it’s funny again, and then it’s sad. And then it’s funny…well, you get my meaning. Just be warned, you need to empty your bladder before you sit down to read it, because you’ll laugh until you pee. Like when the author says (paraphrasing) after a night of wine drinking she was sure her check liver light was on.
You’ll feel like Dickens little Oliver Twist because when you get to the end you’ll be screaming “Please, Ms. Soro, I want some more…”
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