The Price of Admission: Embracing a Life of Grief and Joy

by Liz Petrone

On the surface Liz Petrone looks as if she has it a family, a budding writing career, a successful marriage. But, like so many women, she is desperately lonely. She's also dealing with the life and death of her alcoholic mother and the ghosts of her own suicidal past. The Price of Admission takes us on a journey with Liz from loss into renewed life. Raw, unflinchingly honest, and surprisingly funny, Liz writes from a universally understood place of struggle, whether that is the deep darkness of grief or the hazy, yet joyful, dimness of demanding everyday lives spent caring for ourselves and our families. Through a combination of personal narrative and common truths, Liz provides a timeless reminder to world-weary readers that, just as birth follows death, light does indeed follow darkness; and that, often, it is because of our pain--and not despite it--that we grow, survive, and--yes--thrive.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir

200 pages, Hardcover

Published September 1, 2020

Reviews

[Jodie Utter · Rating 5 out of 5]

Upon finishing this book, it occurred to me how I wish I could ensure this author never stops writing to the rest of us. Not ever. Because it's not just that she gets it, and it's uncanny just how precisely she gets it—ALL OF IT—but that she also soothingly articulates it all to the degree that makes me pray she'll always do so for us.

For we need voices like hers. We need hearts and humor like hers. We need her tenderness and her humility, her questions and her answers, her authenticity and willingness to go "there." You know the place; the painful hard place that so many of us avoid at all costs.

Liz Petrone shows us that going there makes there more bearable, less fraught with fear, and easier to get to the next time we're called to return. When I read the chapter, "In Between the Black and White," I closed the book and stared at the wall for an indeterminable amount of time—while I processed how I'd just read my favorite chapter from any book ever. But then I read on and realized the chapter, "If It Were Only Ever This," is maybe even better.

I'm disoriented at this point because the whole book is just so good. So necessary, so needed. Such a gift to the hurting, to the healing, to those somewhere in the space between. I'm actually going to double back now and read it again and if you knew how often I never do that, maybe that's the best form of praise I can offer for this book and its writer, both.

[Megan Root · Rating 5 out of 5]

Liz says what so many of us want to say.

Full disclosure: I knew Liz and her family when she was a child; I was her sometime babysitter and neighbor. I thought her mom was perfect. In her memoir, she paints a picture not of perfection, but frailty. Of pain and of faith. Her reflections on her mom and their relationship will resonate with adult daughters and mothers of daughters. She makes it okay to be broken and makes you feel like you're sitting with her, drinking wine, taking the journey through life together.

[Mandy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I devoured this beautiful book. I cried. And I don’t cry over books. And I laughed while tears were still in my eyes. And I resisted the frequent urge to highlight the crap out of the truths in Liz’s story because I simply could not bear to put it down.
So do yourselves a favor and add this to your cart. Pronto. Buy the book and then stalk your delivery person until the book is dropped on your doorstep. Then cancel all the things and have this for dinner because I promise you will eat it up.

[Calleen Petersen · Rating 5 out of 5]

A memoir that makes you laugh and cry. The best kind. Liz is honest and as she shares her story with anorexia, depression, anxiety, and a suicide attempt as well as he mother’s suicide. But this is not a depressing book despite the heavy topics. Liz leaves you feeling like life is possible and good despite it all. You won’t regret reading it.

[Jackie Keller · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good nuggets of truth embedded, but too verbose for me to love it.

[Jennie Louwes · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book you could read in one sitting but then you'd miss the gift it truly is. This is a book that deserves your time and attention. If you sit with it and absorb each chapter's message, you'll close the back cover as a richer person, better for it, and possibly forever changed.

Liz Petrone is a woman who knows how to write and how to share. Some may say she's an author who over-shares, but I think in a world that craves authenticity she gets it right! As a reader you receive the gift of this author's complete transparency; and, isn't that best? It's truly the only way to learn from another when you are able to see them fully, to look at how they pulled through knowing there's hope for you then to pull through too.

Everything Liz has written within the pages of "The Price of Admission: Embracing a Life of Grief and Joy" is relatable regardless of if you've lived through similar circumstances or not. Each chapter ends with a message, found within a sentence or two, that's heartfelt, deep, and earnest. Words that complete the chapter with an elegance that makes you sigh contentedly. Words you simply want to hold for a bit and sit with, before you move on. At the end of every chapter, I was left completely moored but moved. (Much like how I felt as a teenager after watching each new episode of "My So Called Life" that starred a young Claire Danes.) This book is a life-changer if you'll let it speak to the deepest parts of you.

This is the type of book you'll want to keep, read more than once, revisiting as you journey through motherhood. It's not all about grief, there is also joy, and this book will help you experience all the feels, gain understanding and insight into them, and embrace them as they represent our womanly lives as a whole.

My only word of caution: Not everyone in life swears but this author happens to. It's not in your face, gratuitous, over-used, superfluous cussing but rather well-placed and warranted. I'm a reader that tends to shy away from books that swear. It's a personal turn-off for me, but this book's main points over-ride how I feel about the language and allow me to accept the heart of the message(s) untarnished.

A must-read!

*I received an advance review copy, via Reedsy Discovery, in exchange for my honest review.

[Shannon Shea · Rating 5 out of 5]

How can we find joy when so much of life seems painful? In 2020, that question seems to ring true more than ever before. Thankfully, Liz Petrone's book offers complex, thoughtful insights into the answer. She has no pat, easy answers or self-help. Instead, she has powerful reflections on how she has processed her own tragedies and how we can learn from her hard-earned life lessons. But this book isn't dour or depressing! Instead of wallowing, Petrone finds great humor and beauty alike in the absurdities of life. In fact, the only other author who can make me both laugh and sigh heavily in the same paragraph - sometimes the same sentence - is Anne Lamott. Petrone has the same ability to capture the ridiculous contradictions of life. If you've ever wondered how to get through deep pain or laughed at a child dancing in the lawn or just appreciate the sunset in September, this book is for you. And even if you've never thought any of these things, it's still very much worth picking up.

[Dan Mumford · Rating 5 out of 5]

Liz's words, much like her life, and really, all of our lives, tease beauty out of the tumultuous chaos that is life. She speaks her truth with such honesty that it's breathtakingly brave. This is the true genius of her writing; that in revealing her deepest hurts, her struggles, her dreams and her anxiety that wonders if she's doing this thing right, it tears into our heart and exposes ourselves, raw and scared. And then, after telling us about our tragedy and pain, she tells us that we are not alone. That it might just be okay. And even if it won't, we can get back up. Like a piece of Kintsugi, we can pick up the pieces and put ourselves back together, broken, and yet more beautiful for the cracks.

[Sara Ohlin · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Price of Admission: Embracing a Life of Grief and Joy is a brilliantly written, open-hearted memoir about motherhood, grief, relationships we have with our own mothers, and life, one step at a time. A life sometimes difficult to get through, yet also at times covered in stardust. Ultimately, it’s Liz sharing her own vulnerabilities in a way that feels like she’s holding out her hand and saying, “You are not alone. We are in this together.” Painful and beautiful, it will find a place in your heart. Readers who adore Anna Quindlen, Glennon Doyle, and Elizabeth Gilbert will love Liz Petrone’s new memoir.

I received a free ARC in exchange for my review, but I would still give this book all the stars in the universe if I could.

[Keegan Taylor · Rating 4 out of 5]

I truly appreciated Liz Petrone's thoughtful insights and humor. Her wisdom is lovely and her story is genuine. The things she's faced in her life are truly heartbreaking.

I would definitely recommend this book to a friend looking for a relatable memoir, especially friends who have dealt with eating disorders, or who have struggled with mental illness (specifically a suicide attempt), or had family members who dealt with substance abuse. I believe they could find faith and hope in Liz's story, and maybe even a friend of sorts.

[Lauren Elizabeth · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read the first page, and I was hooked. Liz’s words made me feel like I was sitting down for coffee and a deep conversation with a friend. Liz is honest about her story, and it’s refreshing. It’s a good glimpse into mental health struggles, and her words inspire me to be a better listener and friend. Her words also inspire me to be honest about my thoughts too. Every woman needs to read this book!

[Kathie · Rating 5 out of 5]

An incredibly raw journey into life with mental illness. Her sense of humor, raw honesty gives this book its exceptional substance. I stumbled onto Liz's blog before her book was complete and it never failed to stir relatable experiences that brought me to tears and laughter often.
I thank her for making me not feel alone when those rough days sneak in and helping me to find laughter even when it might not be the most appropriate time to laugh!!!!!!!

[Sandy Jurkiewicz · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story was recommended to me by a friend, and has a Syracuse connection so I wanted to read. Wow how moving. I can not imagine going through what Liz went through at 16 and in her 30's. Dealing with anxiety and eating disorders, losing your mom - especially right before the birth of your child. The self talk - wow. I loved some of the thoughts - "home within yourself" "make space in our hearts for both sides" . The book is about falling apart and coming back together. I am a mom of four grown children and thinking back, I could relate to some of her frustrations and joy. Made me pull out some of my old home videos to watch.

[Amy Chesler · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gorgeous book by an introspective wordsmith. I have always loved Liz's writing, but to be gifted a whole book of it to read is a dream come true. In this memoir, she somehow made her very specific experiences feel universal with perspective and precision. I hope this book is just her inaugural one, and there are many more to come.

[Rachel G · Rating 5 out of 5]

Liz Petrone shares her stories, her triumphs, her struggles... this book was so raw and honest. I loved reading it.
"This life is a series of loves and losses filled in with long stretches of daily minutiae and sprinkled with moments of astounding joy."

[Karen DeBonis · Rating 5 out of 5]

I fell in love with Liz Petrone's voice as a blogger, and love it, still, in her book. She's at the same time funny and deep and raw, all of it running together so that I feel almost breathless with emotion when I reach the end of a sentence. It's like talkin' to a girlfriend--it just feels good.

[Melanie Dunne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well written, honest depiction about life and loss. Embracing grief is such a beautiful concept, and she tells her story with such poignant honesty and humor. My only critique is that I wished it was longer. I hope she writes more!

[Jen Franklin Kearns · Rating 5 out of 5]

Liz’s achingly beautiful words captivated me from beginning to end. So many passages struck my very soul and allowed me to feel less alone in a world full of painfully joyful moments. What a gift it was to read this book.

[Rana Bentley · Rating 3 out of 5]

(Listened on Audible) quick "read", funny & heart breaking. Hit closed to home on many topics. Only 3 stars for me because the end got a little repetitive, & sorta of preachy to me about savoring all those precious motherhood moments, so I found myself just wanting it to be over.

[Stephanie · Rating 1 out of 5]

Maybe I’m too old for this book. I have had very difficult times in my life - lost a child, lost my mom, etc. Nothing Liz said was revelatory. I think she’s just writing about life that we all live. Don’t get the draw.

[Stephanie Stewart · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved! A must read! Her words were so descriptive I thought I was her, feeling what she was feeling. Going through exactly what she was going through.

[Lauren Flake · Rating 5 out of 5]

Raw, beautiful, heartbreaking, and hilarious all at once.

[Lisa Shepherd · Rating 3 out of 5]

Loved her authenticity and really liked some of the chapters, other chapters not so much.

[Robyn Zerebniak · Rating 5 out of 5]

Will read this over and over

[Zibby Owens · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was moving and soulful. You know when you read something, and you're rooting for the person so much because you care right away—I had that feeling reading this book.

There were so many passages that I thought were so beautiful. I loved the part when you said: "I've come to realize that the true lie the darkness tells is one of omission. The darkness doesn't tell you how pain is simply the price of admission. And it's a steal, really, a bargain. One, I will pay a hundred times over for the simple pleasure of a beautiful sunrise or a mug of tea heavy in my hands or another mile run or a hug from a long-time friend or the smile of a child across a crowded room. For the comfort of my soon-to-be husband's arm strong across my waist while he watched me sleep. For the moments when the darkness whispers its lies in the night, and I am able, still, to answer it with the only two words that matter: I'm here."

The other passage was when her mom called after she was stuck in the elevator: "I didn't know it then, of course, but it was the last conversation we ever had. She died a few days later. In the first chaotic weeks of grief, I thought of that elevator and how quickly everything can change. You can be just standing still, all minding your own business when the floor drops out from under you and you're thrown right off your feet. It's completely terrifying, and it's easy then to get stuck in unfamiliar territory where the only way out is going to be calling out Marco and trusting even while your heart tries to gallop right out of your chest that the Polo is coming. And it is. There are people who will quite literally lift you up, grab your hands and pull. It's happened before, and it will happen again. Of this, I am sure, as long as I continue to have the faith to call out."

To listen to my interview with the author, go to my podcast at: https://zibbyowens.com/transcript/liz...

[Erin · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had this book in my Amazon cart forever after reading about it on the author's FB account. There, she wrote freely --heart-bared openly --about her mother's and her own depression and its impact on her life. If I'm remembering correctly, she posted something about not having a very good selection of food in her house because she couldn't get out of bed to go to the store. I thought -- she gets it! In trying to understand and deal with my own situation better, I've read many books about mental illness. The greatest compliment I think I can give Liz Petrone is that her writing rings very true. I've often said that being a mom is the "best, hardest" thing I've ever done. Petrone shares this sentiment, though much more eloquently in this book: "...having this family is like walking around with five open wounds that make you more vulnerable than you ever were before." She writes about seeing the full spectrum of living colors between the black (grief) and white (joy). She's right, of course, that the colors are what make life beautiful, though that doesn't make the grief any less painful. It just provides the context to realize the beauty in the moments that fall between the black and white. As she attests to in her book, sometimes it's hard to put one foot in front of the other, but life is worth it -- even when it hurts. Maybe even especially because it also hurts.