Diane Keaton for me has always been, well– I hate to be a Polyanna here but– she's always been a ray of sunshine for me. I'm always happy to see her face. I almost always adore her movies. And there's the added delight of, over the years, having at least a dozen people ask me "has anyone ever told you that you look like Diane Keaton?" BIG compliment in my book.

So, I doubt that I can be objective about her book. I SO looked forward to knowing more about her. I'm a fan but I didn't know thing one about her personal life.

In her book I encountered a real, every day woman, with honest insecurities, crushes, regrets, memories. Not nearly as eccentric as I expected or as she makes herself out to be. I felt like I was hearing her true voice; the way she speaks, her gestures, hesitations.

If there was anything disappointing, it would be the detail of her relationships with Allen, Beatty, Pacino. Not that the detail was too much or too little, but I was left wondering if she had significant relationships only with famous men? Did she leave out non-famous men? I did, however, thoroughly enjoy reading their letters to her. And a part of me was relieved to know that someone like Diane Keaton could be so human and fallible as to put so much misguided worth into relationships with men and still make it through to the other side.

Finally, Dorothy. Diane's mom. Keaton lovingly brought her to life for me through Dorothy's own words and artwork and Keaton's writing about her. I came away with a new perspective of my own mother's life, and that in itself, was worth the read.