Anna Kendrick’s Scrappy Little Nobody was one of my favorite books from this year. It was really funny, and I was giggling or smiling to myself like a psychopath the whole time.
I feel like I could run into Anna Kendrick at McDonald’s and have a 30-minute discussion about the merits of sweatpants and french fries with her. She is like me in more ways than I realized, and her book where she is unabashedly herself has made me feel much more comfortable with my view of success.
All I’ve wanted out of life is to have a job I love and go home to do what I want every day. What I want is normally to lounge around and watch, read, or play something. People like to say that going home and immediately putting on sweatpants is awful and what makes us lazy. No. You know what makes me lazy? Uncomfortable clothes because then I just want to sit and do nothing at all except be angry that my bra is pinchy and jeans are scratchy.
I also found unexpected inspiration in her book from the way she talks about anxiety. She has found ways to not only cope but use it to her advantage. I hope my manic organization and planning is an advantage, but most of the time I feel like it’s me just letting the crazy out and scaring everyone.
At the end of her book, she said she hopes the book made the reader feel less lonely. Well, Anna, if you’re reading this in some other dimension where I’m a percentage cool, I do feel less alone. My workaholic, anxiety-ridden, sarcastic, short self feels much more normal and able to do everything I want to.
As for the writing itself, that was also a pleasure. The stories were fun and the appropriate length. I didn’t feel that any part of it was dragging or lacked detail. It was exactly what I wanted from a memoir because it was very obviously her voice. There was no trying to be authory or profound. It was human. It was honest. And, by golly, it was hilarious.