I bought this because: Carrie Fisher and I misread the title thinking it’s something to do with Chocolate. Chokaholic. Imagine my surprise when she started talking in that smooth, smooth voice of hers about shock therapy, cocaine and the world of men, weight loss and trying to fit in.

There are two choices post forty-five: letting ourselves go or making ourselves sit like good, well-groomed, obliging pets, coats smooth and wrinkle-free, stomachs flat, muscles taut, teeth clean, hair dyed, nails manicured—everything just so. The thing is, though, not only is this completely unnatural, requiring warehouses full of self-control and perseverance, but it demands a level of discomfort you have to be willing to live with ’til death by lap band or liposuction.

There are stars whose radiance is visible on Earth though they have long been extinct. There are people whose brilliance continues to light the world though they are no longer among the living. These lights are particularly bright when the night is dark. They light the way for humankind. —Hannah Senesh, poet, playwright, and paratrooper (1921–1944)

“I was not just going to lie down and let this man walk all over me”

Welcome to the original un-apologetic feminist. I freaking loved the book. So funny and I can tell she was a hard-ass based on the way she handled specific situations, including when a top-executive asked whether he could sleep with her. Her replies were funny – she is sober now and she would have to be dead wasted to allow such a thing – Plus he was a Democrat.

“You see, even after decades of therapy and workshops and retreats and twelve-steps and meditation and even experiencing a very weird session of rebirthings, even after rappeling down mountains and walking over hot coals and jumping out of airplanes and watching elephant races and climbing the Great Wall of China, and even after floating down the Amazon and taking ayahuasca with an ex-husband and a witch doctor and speaking in tongues and fasting (both nutritional and verbal), I remained pelted and plagued by feelings of uncertainty and despair. Yes, even after sleeping with a senator, and waking up next to a dead friend, and celebrating Michael Jackson’s last Christmas with him and his kids, I still did not feel—how shall I put this?—mentally sound.”

Some of the things she talked about really resonated with me. Like how truly awful people can be on the Internet behind the wall of anonymity, worse than her most self-hateful moments. I had to laugh at how she phrased her own name Google Search.. She went and did it un-lubed and it went as well as you can expect. Asking whether she was suicidal. I don’t think she ever was. She relished life too much and drugs. I think it took a while to be sober mostly due, not to the addictive nature of the things she was on, but also due to the sadness engulfing her on a day-to-day basis.

I had never been truly suicidal. Not that I haven’t, on occasion, thought it might be an improvement over the all-too-painful present if I could be deadish for maybe just a teeny little bit of it. You know, like a really good sleep, after which I’d wake refreshed and equal to whatever the problem had been, that problem would have now vanished.

“When I got the part of a princess in this goofy little science-fiction film, I thought: What the Fuck, Right? it’ll be fun to do. I’m 19! Who doesn’t want to have fun at 19?

“I’ll go hang out with a bunch of robots for a few months and then I’ll go back to my real life and try to figure out what I want to do when I grow up. Who knooows? Maybe, I’ll go to college, you know? REAL college, not a pretend drama one.

“But then Star Wars, this goofy, little three-month hang-out with robots did something unexpected. It misbehaved. It exploded across the firmament of pop culture, taking all of us along with it. It tricked me into becoming a star all on my who-gives-a-shit own.”

There is no shortage of people flocking to hear what Princess Leia has to say. Her previous hardcover, Wishful Drinking, was an instant New York Times bestseller and Carrie was featured everywhere on broadcast media and received rave reviews from coast to coast.

Told with the same intimate style, brutal honesty, and uproarious wisdom that placed Wishful Drinking on the New York Times bestseller list for months, Shockaholic is the juicy account of Carrie Fisher’s life, focusing more on the Star Wars years and dishing about the various Hollywood relationships she’s formed since she was chosen to play Princess Leia at only nineteen years old. Fisher delves into the gritty details that made the movie—and herself—such a phenomenal success, admitting, “It isn’t all sweetness and light sabers.”

“What you’ll have of me after I journey to that great Death Star in the sky is an extremely accomplished daughter, a few books, and a picture of a stern-looking girl wearing some kind of metal bikini lounging on a giant drooling squid, behind a newscaster informing you of the passing of Princess Leia after a long battle with her head

I felt like tearing up a little. She sounds like a fantastic person (flawed, but still) and I think all the world will miss her.

“I don’t hate hardly ever, and when I love, I love for miles and miles. A love so big it should either be outlawed or it should have a capital and its own currency.”

Where you remain with a dying person, accompanying them as far as you can go, ultimately finding yourself standing still while they’ve kept moving. Moving until that place where they stop, arriving at that terrible stillness that goes on way longer than any life someone might have led. You continue leading your life while they follow theirs into the great beyond. Being and nothingness. You love them until they can’t feel loved anymore, then you keep on loving them as if they were still there—as if there’s been a reprieve at the last moment and fate has reversed itself. It all turned out to be a bad dream that you both had and now get to wake from.

I loved the book, I loved the humour and I miss Ms Fisher. Too bad she’s not around to find out how good this was from me 🙂