Joan Silverman

Thanks to LibraryThing and Brauhan publishing for this book.

Considering it was a lot of her columns, etc. put into one it melded quite nicely in her writing and her chapters. I enjoyed reading a lot about her life and how she feels about many things. The title is only mentioned at the end of the book. I guess I thought it would have more meaning. One thing that didn't mesh out for me was because these were from many places, there were some places that she mentioned "they." I have no idea if she's talking about a friend, spouse or what. She does mention friends by name though in this book.

Overall, a fast, good book… (mais)

After reading this book, it seems like the author, John Silverman, and I have a great deal in common. She describes certain affinities, traits and habits that make me think she must have a direct connection to my head.

Where I once used to be (honestly) a slob, and now dance right up to the line of OCD tidiness, she exactly puts into words what I could not, why I can no longer bear dishes left overnight: “Forty years later, I now see what’s fundamentally wrong with dirty dishes awaiting one first thing in the morning. They’re like tarnish on a new day, a reminder, a throwback, as if yesterday never came to a finite end.”

My feelings about organization and how it can transcend the feelings of enjoying a clean desk are an echo for her first experience in an organization store: “I confess that my first trip to the store was not your standard retail foray. It was more like visiting a museum, church and therapist, all in one.”

I am not a big fan of change when I find something I truly like – and apparently she suffers the same curse as I: “So it goes that once you’ve used a product for years, and can’t imagine life without it, it vanishes.”

And most tellingly, the moral dilemma I have been undergoing for years in my love of the feel, smell, texture and permanence of physical books and bookstores…versus the ease and flexibility of an e-reader. “Whoever envisions a paperless society places his trust in the air, for the vision is one of invisibility, without texture or touch. A virtual world, where sense is made formless, and words lack a permanent home, is a place where meanings can shift like the wind.”

Yet despite these similarities, and despite appreciating her clean and clear writing style…I felt that “Someday This Will Fit” was really missing something. I kept waiting for it to be funnier when instead each anecdote comes across as mildly amusing. I was searching for a real heart to it, especially since many of the essays are about painful subjects and emotional themes, but instead felt the real soul of the book was under lock and key. And I never got either. This book was good…but I feel that it could have been great.… (mais)