"The Emily Dickinson of memoirists" (Stephen King) Abigail Thomas shares her thoughts on aging in this irresistibly wry memoir-in-vignettes--offering richly insightful writing tips along the way.

While reflecting on the past, Abby accepts the shape of her present. No more driving, no more dancing, mostly sitting in a comfortable chair in a sunny corner with three dogs for company--as well as the birds and other critters that she watches out her window. Only this beloved writer could generate so much enthusiasm over what might seem so little. Vivid memories fall like confetti, as time contracts, shoots forward, loops and suddenly she is back in her twenties in New York City, drinking, sleeping with strangers, falling in and out of love, believing in a better world. Sometimes dread or grief arrives, inhabits her body like a shadow, and all she can do is write it away, paying close attention to what catches her eye, sticks in her brain, keeps her in the moment.

Whether you're a book lover, dog lover--or both--pull up a chair, pour a cup of tea, and enter Abigail Thomas's quietly mesmerizing world.