I picked this up yesterday, thinking I'd just read the first chapter, and found myself glued to the chair, occasionally laughing out loud, reading right through to the end. Fisher's a very funny woman, with just the sort of semi-bitter, sarcastic tone I like. It begins with a dead man in her bed, and ends with electro-convulsive therapy. In between there's Star Wars, in more ways than one. It's an intriguing mix of damn-the-torpedoes, scorched-earth, combined with sincere affection and compassion, and the sort of hard-earned humor I hear in those church basement meetings I go to regularly. There is the unavoidable name-dropping (how could there not be with the sort of life she's lived), and although no one comes out unscathed, including Carrie Fisher, all are treated with generosity.It's a somewhat thin book, but it doesn't aspire to be more than it is -- large print and lots of pictures. I suspect it will appeal most to those of us who have been through at least some of what Fisher has, and who can appreciate the crazy (sorry!), and perhaps sacred joke of it all. Well worth reading. I imagine her live show is even better.