The Last Black Unicorn. Tiffany Haddish. 2017. 289 pages. [Source: Public library.] It’s rare that a book has me actually laughing out loud nearly the entire time I read it. Most comedic books are funny, but not that funny. Tiffany Haddish easily kept me in stitches throughout The Last Black Unicorn, perhaps more so because it was an audiobook narrated by Haddish herself. In her autobiography, Haddish covers it all — her unstable upbringing, abusive/manipulative relationships, and the stop-and-go evolution of her career. There are energizing highs, and heart wrenching lows. But what’s undeniable is Haddish’s ability to tell these stories with candor and humor. She states early on in the book that readers will either laugh or cry, and that she’d her best to have them do the second. Without question, she’s presented a book that strikes a fair balance of honesty without turning it into a sob story. In fact, I’d say that at times, the way she presents things is almost bordering on the ridiculous, yet she always brings it home. What stands out to me about this book is how transparent Haddish is about her various experiences. She’s upfront and detailed about her missteps, even those…

How to Be Alone: If You Want To, and Even If You Don’t. Lane Moore. 2018. Atria Books. 224 pages. [Source: Public library.] Random scrolling in the Libby app led me to How to Be Alone, written by comedian, writer, and musician Lane Moore. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but the title caught my attention considering I enjoy my fair share of alone time. How to Be Alone, however, is less about the beauty found in solitude, and more about how the author coped with the physical and psychological isolation she has navigated since her childhood. In this memoir, Moore shares vignettes of her life that center her connections with other people — or lack thereof. From friendships, to relationships, and her career, she bares a lot in the name of transparency, and it reads a lot like a cautionary tale. The “how-to” aspect of the book was not prominent until the final chapter. The rest, however, did read like a “what not to do,” though I’m not sure that’s what the author intended. Moore isn’t specific in the book about the nature of what she experienced with her family, but she is clear about its impact on…

Nothing to See Here. Kevin Wilson. 2019. Ecco. 254 pages. [Source: Public Library.] Nothing to See Here starts off innocuously enough. Lillian and Madison were roommates in boarding school — Lillian because of an academic scholarship and Madison because it’s what’s expected for a girl from a wealthy family. Their time as roommates is short-lived, but the friendship continues more than decade later. Lillian’s not doing much in her life, and Madison’s the wife of a prominent politician, Jasper. Things go left when Madison asks her dear old friend to serve as a governess of sorts for her stepchildren, Bessie and Roland. Did I mention they spontaneously combust? I read about 4 pages into this book before I asked myself “what the hell am I reading?” I asked that several more times throughout the book. That’s not a critique; it’s just illustrative that this book was never quite what I expected. I waited for sordid family secrets and cover-ups as one might expect from a politician who’s on the fast track to a federal appointment. Instead, I saw the fear of a family reckoning with what happens when things don’t fit expectations and how to make sense of it. Lillian…

God-Level Knowledge Darts. Desus Nice & The Kid Mero. 2020. Random House. 210 pages. [Source: Personal copy & public library.] Anyone who is remotely familiar with the unique brand of comedy offered up by Desus and Mero won’t be shocked or disappointed by the knowledge darts they drop in their literary debut. The same irreverence they deliver on their podcast and late night show is presented in God-Level Knowledge Darts, complete with the back and forth that is their signature. The topics on which they offer advice range from parenthood, relationships, recreational drug use, personal finances, and even toxic masculinity. While some of the advice teeters on the edge of legality and good sense, they do drop some insightful and useful lessons that are rooted in experience (they did that so hopefully you won’t have to go through that). If you need to spice up a boring relationship, they’ve got you. Not sure if the the possibility of NFL stardom outweighs the risk of CTE? It’s in here. Trying to figure out how to how to finesse when the rent is late? That’s here, too. And if you find yourself unable to avoid the bookings, beloved? They have some best…

I Think I Might Love You. Christina C. Jones. 2019. 130 pages. [Source: Kindle Unlimited.] I haven’t enjoyed a book quite the way I enjoyed I think I Might Love You in a while. I mean put the Kindle down, guffaw, and wipe tears from my eyes laughing. This book is so fun and so real. I Think I Might Love You doesn’t start off like you’d think a romance would. Jaclyn, a bit tipsy, strolls into her sister’s apartment only wanting some good ice cream to ease the pain of finding out her boyfriend has a whole wife and family he’s been hiding. She finds the ice cream, but also finds a naked dude in the kitchen. She punches him and locks herself in the bedroom, only to wonder where the hell her sister is. She later finds out Kadan is actually a legitimate subletter … awkward. That’s just the first of many awkward and uncomfortable — if not completely hilarious — interactions between the two. Their “courtship” is anything but. I mean, she intended to use him as DoD* and saved him in her phone as “Dicky McStrangerballs.” (Shoutout to Mrs. Jones for that piece of literary excellence…