Author: Amy Ferris

Reviewed By: Georgia Richardson

Reading warning: Hold on to your sensitivities as you ride with author Amy Ferris on her menopausal journey in Marrying George Clooney. It isn’t for the faint of heart. In this book, the overuse of expletives reminds me of a potentially good meal…too much salt and you might ruin it. But get past the language and you find that the insider’s view of her life is hilarious. I’m talking knee-slapping funny; and I mean it.

Wade through the intro and preface, ignore the annoying CAPS and italics in each chapter and the changing of the fonts, and what’s left is a treat. Seriously, I mean it.

Here’s a woman who bares it all. Her remedy for menopausal insomnia is to sit up all night “Googling” old boyfriends (which was laugh out loud), fantasizing about marrying George, and volleying emails with girlfriends who want to break the ties that gag them.

Amy’s offerings on Menopause were spot on, her relationship with hubby is downright “soulmateish,” and lovely, the caregiving battles for her mom tugs at your heartstrings…and the one-liners (I.e., describing the magazines under her night stand as “more dead people under my night table than there are in Montefiore cemetery) are a scream! How does she do it?

Between her fits of nervous laughter, the hot flashes and the wild fantasies, Amy Ferris delivers a laugh-out-loud memoir that you will remember for years to come …and yes, I mean it.

Originally Published on

Anne Holmes Boomer-in-Chief of NABBW
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