Review by Booklist Review
Thomas may be pushing 80, but she keeps an open mind and seeks the next interesting thing to come, as she chronicles in this collection of essays and poems. A former book editor and agent turned writer, she admits to frantic races to the bathroom, experiences ageism, and ponders thoughts of death, but she still insists that "Mortality keeps life interesting." Readers of a certain age will chuckle at her thoughts about ways she doesn't want to die (murder, being eaten alive) and nod along as she struggles with disappearing memories. Writing doesn't always come easily these days, and Thomas finds herself repeating comments to her kids. But she remains insightful, self-aware, and still feisty (see her recent tattoo). At times, she's haunted by dread; other days, she feels bored. Sometimes memories of past loves and dreams haunt her. But little things, like the march of an ant across her room, the unexpected appearance of a spider, or the arrival of birds, snag her attention, and she's off doing what she does best, putting it all on the page to share with readers.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Memoirist Thomas (What Comes Next and How to Like It) takes a tender look at aging and memory in this meditative account. Opening the narrative with a vow to embrace "living in the ever-shifting constancy of now," Thomas describes the surprising lightness she felt in the wake of her 79th birthday in 2020, eating leftover cake for breakfast, surrendering to adult diapers, and happily napping to excess. In short, punchy chapters, Thomas illustrates her initial conviction that there is still plenty of life to be lived in old age, and how that outlook shifted when she and the rest of the world were forced to stay at home during the early months of the Covid-19 pandemic. As Thomas sat in her chair in Woodstock, N.Y., and sifted through her memories, she clung to recollections of love affairs and quiet family moments, each one given new meaning by her forced isolation. Like the slow-blooming wisteria vine growing from Thomas's desk that reappears throughout the narrative, the power of her remembrances emerges gradually, but they join together to form a beautiful whole. Fans of Gail Godwin's Getting to Know Death would do well to check this out. (Nov.)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
Reflections on aging from a master of the fresh and moving fragment. "I love the word 'fragment.' It has a jagged quality," Thomas announces in her latest assemblage of short vignettes, a form she first used in her much-loved memoirSafekeeping (2000). They are grouped in four sections: "Being This Old," "Stay-at-Home Order," "Wisteria," and "A Few Thoughts About Writing." If you've read other works on the theme, you may agree that when a writer feels compelled to squeeze a book out of "being this old," it is not always a good thing. Thomas proves a delightful exception, offering reflections on the sedentary life she leads in Woodstock, New York, alone with her dogs, various visiting insects and creatures, and occasional drive-bys from her children and friends. Even when writing about wasps, word etymologies, using a coffee cup as an ashtray, and other random minutiae, she is always fun, smart, thoughtful, and pithy, modestly trying not to take up too much of your time. Some instances of repetition (the same writing prompt twice--on the other hand, it's a good one) can be forgiven as can enough-already ruminations on the frustrations of lockdown, more than made up for by the myriad freshly turned phrases and pearls of existential wisdom. Though she includes a few sections recalling escapades of her halcyon youth, she's fairly sure she's forgotten more than she remembers and decides to "think of my failing memory as an achievement. I am finally living in the moment." She faces the eventuality of death with frankness and a stiff upper lip, hopeful that when she does go she won't get that "funny feeling" when you realize you've left the house with some important task undone. Given this fine little book, she should not. Thomas is still smokin'--in both senses of the word!--and her candor is a gift to us all. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
