In which I talk about the fourth of five non-fiction books that caught my fancy (#87).
I enjoy memoirs that capture everyday life. My Own Two Feet begins when Beverly Cleary left home for school and essentially ends after she published her first book. She completes schools, falls in love, and becomes a librarian. The book covers World War II, during which she wore rayon stockings, turned inside out so that they weren’t shiny, and supplemented her hospital library income by sewing on new rank patches for the hospitalized service members. She began to write her books for the children in her library who asked for books about kids like them.
This was a quick read, and enjoyable, though the tone was sometimes bitter and hurt as she discussed her family’s reaction to her choices of career and husband.
This is actually the second of two memoirs, but for some reason our library doesn’t seem to have the first one. I’d be interested in reading about her childhood if they ever got a copy in. Writing about childhood, after all, is Cleary’s area of expertise.