I think the author was too close to her material. This autobiography of an abusive and difficult childhood might have much to recommend it, if the author's writing didn't come across as more purging than literary.
I may be stumbling up against the inadequacy of words myself here, in that there are many fine books which were writing as therapy, or a way to confront and make sense of the demons of one's childhood.
But there is a lack of maturity here, the book reads more like a simple recitation of events. It needs - not polish necessarily - maybe greater depth, more processing and perspective?
The final chapter or two starts that process, and it's a promising beginning. But there's a paucity of of the profound insights into the psychology of the people involved which makes this book beg for the wisdom of age and experience.
I hope the author will continue to write, learn, and grow. Now that this book is behind her, she can sharpen her skills and bring the trauma of her childhood to create fictional characters with the complexity and perception that I believe she can acheive in the future.