With Love and Laughter, John Ritter

( 23 )

Overview

Now in paperback from actress Amy Yasbeck, an honest and loving celebration of the life of her beloved late husband John Ritter, revealing the effect his untimely death had on her family and his fans and sharing the universal experience of coping with the grief of losing a loved one.

Best known for his role of Jack Tripper in the sitcom Three’s Company, Ritter was beloved for entertaining millions through his many television and movie appearances. On September 11, 2003, actor ...

See more details below
Paperback
$13.29
BN.com price
(Save 30%)$18.99 List Price

Pick Up In Store

Reserve and pick up in 60 minutes at your local store

Other sellers (Paperback)
  • All (12) from $1.99   
  • New (8) from $9.98   
  • Used (4) from $1.99   
With Love and Laughter, John Ritter

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK
  • NOOK HD/HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook)
$12.99
BN.com price

Overview

Now in paperback from actress Amy Yasbeck, an honest and loving celebration of the life of her beloved late husband John Ritter, revealing the effect his untimely death had on her family and his fans and sharing the universal experience of coping with the grief of losing a loved one.

Best known for his role of Jack Tripper in the sitcom Three’s Company, Ritter was beloved for entertaining millions through his many television and movie appearances. On September 11, 2003, actor John Ritter fatally collapsed on the set of his sitcom 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter. The cause of his death: an aortic aneurysm, stemming from a previously undiagnosed congenital heart defect. That day the world lost a uniquely gifted actor, but for Amy Yasbeck, the loss was far greater: she lost her husband, her partner, and the father of her daughter.

In this inspiring and enlightening memoir, Yasbeck reveals how she dealt with the loss and shock of losing John so unexpectedly. It is both a moving portrait of her husband, and an extremely relatable examination of the painful process of grieving. Enduring her grief with poise and patience, she is dedicated to preserving his name and With Love and Laughter, John Ritter is a wonderful and touching tribute to a man adored by the public and cherished by friends and family.

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"Amy Yasbeck is a singular woman with a singular family. She writes beautifully of a couple that was as heart-felt and inspiring as they seemed from afar. You will soak up her story with every pore."—Sarah Silverman

"I always knew Amy Yasbeck was a talented actress—but I had no idea she was such a talented writer. Her book, a glowing tribute to her late husband John Ritter, is beautifully written, very funny, and very moving. I loved this book, and I think you will too."—Mel Brooks

“A funny and lovely tribute to a funny and lovely man.”—Jimmy Kimmel

“I opened up this book just for a quick peek and stood at my kitchen counter mesmerized, missed two appointments and made my husband pick-up the kids. I recommend this book to anyone, but I suggest you sit down before you start.”—Felicity Huffman

Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781416598541
  • Publisher: Gallery Books
  • Publication date: 2/23/2013
  • Pages: 280
  • Sales rank: 313,277
  • Product dimensions: 5.40 (w) x 8.40 (h) x 0.90 (d)

Meet the Author

Amy Yasbeck

Amy Yasbeck met her late husband John Ritter during a readthrough of the 1990 movie Problem Child, which they starred in together. Yasbeck can be seen in movies such as Robin Hood: Men in Tights, Pretty Woman, and The Mask, and had a starring role in popular 1990s sitcom Wings. She lives in Los Angeles with her children.

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

chapter 20 One Simple Rule:“If That Happens on Show Night, Just Keep Going!”

Early in 2002, John, Stella, and I took a trip to Florida to visit Disney World and see my sister Ann and her husband, Jim. Disney World with Stella was a blast, and I got to show her where Mommy swam around as a mermaid all those years ago in Splash, Too. We stayed in Naples at the Ritz-Carlton, and John had brought some scripts to read for the coming TV season. John always had a pile of prospective TV series scripts, sent by producers and writers, awaiting his perusal. He gave each production his consideration, although he had not been so keen on the idea of jumping back into a half-hour situation comedy. But now that he was the father of a young child again, he wanted a more predictable schedule than guest-starring and film roles afforded him. The world of sitcoms missed him, and John was opening up to the fact that maybe he missed them a little, too.

When we got to the hotel, John tossed a script for an ABC Disney family comedy into a beach bag along with four books and several magazines, and rushed Stella and me out the door with his famous “Here we go!” As I stood onshore with Stella in my arms, she took one look at the waves and started squirming with excitement. Thank God, John was a master at the art of sunscreen application. After all those summers of having to slather his three kids all at once, he had it down to a science—kid number four was not about to get the best of him.

He would gently turn Stella by the top of her head to face him, like he was opening a jar of pickles, and deftly pat dollops of SPF 50 over every inch of her exposed Ritter-pale skin, repeating the word “bink” with every dab. The ritual was inexplicably soothing, like the tranquilizing effect of massaging an alligator’s stomach. John would then quickly rub in the sunscreen while laying out the rules of ocean safety, eye to eye, in a very serious tone, like he was the Mick to Stella’s Rocky Balboa.

I took Stella out into the water, while John stretched out on the patchwork of hotel towels we had constructed for our headquarters. I saw him pick up the script for a show called 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter. His first impression of it was that the title was way too long, and he told me later that he was actually expecting not to like it. John had been offered so many sitcom-dad roles that they all pretty much blended together, and he didn’t have much hope that this one would be any better. I watched him give it a cursory read—as in, “bullshit, bullshit, my part”—and he was smiling and laughing to himself. But he didn’t spend very much time on it before tossing it back in the beach bag and taking out a book from his ever-present collection of hardcover novels.

John had no qualms about bringing several books with him even on a short jaunt—history, fiction, suspense, biography, politics—not to mention (but I will, just this once) newspapers, comic books, cartoon compilations, graphic novels, Mad magazines, and anything else he could get his hands on. Home and abroad, a sizable collection of his partially read books and periodicals could be found in every room. Still, he would often take several trips to the local bookstore once we had reached our destination. Sometimes, he would finish one and give it away to whoever happened to be nearby in an attempt to lighten our luggage for the return trip. Upon returning home, however, he would more often than not go to our neighborhood bookstore to replace the one he had gifted on our trip. John had a remarkable passion for reading that he exuberantly shared with his family and friends. He would always excitedly tell me about whatever book he had just finished reading, making a big deal of stopping short so as not to give away any twists that might spoil the plot for me.

After I had Stella, I often employed a thinly veiled passive-aggressive response that only a frazzled new mother could get away with; I would say, “Honey, why don’t you just go ahead and tell me the whole story. You know I’m never going to have chance to read it.” John would always smile patiently and put the book up on one of our many bookshelves, while assuring me, “You will.” After John died, I found myself collecting his partially read books from every room in our house, as well as from his dressing room and his car.

Never one to dog-ear a page for reference, John saved his place with bookmarks made from everything from shooting schedules to toilet paper. I stacked an armload of these books beside my bed, since sleeping through the night had become a memory at that point. I read the first book, Steve Martin’s novel The Pleasure of My Company… and I felt like John was reading a bedtime story aloud to me. A bedtime story about a man with agonizing, paralyzing obsessive-compulsive disorder and the social worker who loves him, but a bedtime story all the same. When I turned a page about two-thirds of the way through, I found a green plastic sword-shaped toothpick marking the last page he’d read. John must’ve been interrupted—perhaps he’d been pounced on by a freshly bathed Stella, or remembered that the Dodger game was on, or gotten a phone call from one of his big kids, or decided his nightly bowl of cornflakes was beckoning, or got an offer from his exhausted but amorous wife that he couldn’t refuse. And he never read further. But I did. In those first months, setting aside his makeshift bookmark and turning the page was as much of a concession to “moving on” as I could make.

Voracious reader that he was, John was just finishing off the entire pile of scripts he’d lugged down to Florida by the time dinner rolled around. I reminded him that we were supposed to eat at my sister’s house in Fort Myers at seven thirty, then I asked him what he thought of the scripts. He answered that there was “nothing there.” I think that would have been that, he would’ve missed the boat, if we hadn’t gotten stuck in traffic on the Tamiami Trail and shown up an hour late for dinner with a passed-out Stella in tow. Ann and her husband, Jim, had just finished watching My Wife and Kids and began recounting some of Damon Wayans’s best lines over dinner.

Ann has one of those laughs that tends to kick into high gear when she gets going, shifting quickly from a laugh to a bray. The more she tries to stop, the more intense it gets. It kind of leaves you wondering whether you should laugh along or open up a can of Heimlich maneuver on her ass. John loved it though. And the more she talked about Damon and how unexpected and outrageous his interactions with his kids were on the show, the more engaged John became. We mused about fathers in general, how they can simultaneously be all-knowing and idiots, and how entertainingly satisfying that is to observe.

Over the course of that conversation, something clicked with John. When we got back to the hotel, he went straight to the no pile on the table and pulled out the script for 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter, took it over to the couch, and began to reread it with an open mind and a pencil. The pencil was always a positive sign. When John worked on a script, he wrote in the margins and all over the page. He was scribbling and mouthing the words and laughing to himself. I knew he was feeling invested in this character now and was beginning to picture himself in the role. Stella and I kissed him good night and I went to put her to bed. After she fell asleep, I came out and found him sound asleep with his glasses on, pencil in hand, midscribble. I closed the script, knowing that this was the show for John.

The next day, he talked me into taking our three-year-old up with us on a parasail. John could pretty much talk me into anything. And while we were in the air, he told me he was going to tell his agent yes on the project.

Viewers who had grown up with John were happy to have him back on prime time. The actor who had entertained them on Three’s Company for years with his “roommate problems” was back in their living rooms, now playing a married guy with three kids. His character, Paul Hennessy, was tackling the same issues that a lot of the folks were dealing with at home. The show was an instant hit, winning The People’s Choice Award for best new comedy in January of 2003.

The awards ceremony was on the same day that we were taping Hollywood Squares together for the Valentine’s Day show. Henry Winkler was producing it and had added cut-aways before the commercial breaks. The hand-held camera would pan up and around the gigantic tic-tac-toe grid to catch some of the behind-the-scenes chatter. John saw the camera traveling to our box and whispered in my ear to ask him what he liked best about being on the show. I did and he replied, “Not wearing pants.” And he wasn’t. Henry was very familiar with John’s penchant for dropping comedy trou. Not surprisingly, he and his underpants made it on the air. Luckily, Pantless John always came across more Winnie the Pooh than Winnie the Flasher.

The five-episode taping started on time, but we still got behind schedule. The producers had to ask the celebrity couples to forgo a wardrobe change, thereby blowing the game show illusion that we shot over a five-day period. With the help of the Hollywood Squares crew and our lead-footed limo driver, we made it to the awards just in time.

This was the big fat year of My Big Fat Greek Wedding, produced by Tom Hanks. He and his wife, Rita Wilson, were seated about ten rows in front of us on the aisle. The movie won an award in practically every category, and Tom got up and down off that stage so many times that it got kind of funny. Then the category for Best New Comedy came up and 8 Simple Rules won. John jumped up, ran down the aisle, and said, “Eat shit, Tom,” into his ear on the way to the stage. Tom was still doubled over laughing when John went up and gave one of the most eloquent and gracious acceptance speeches on behalf of any show I’d ever heard.

At the end of August 2003, 8 Simple Rules returned to production on the Disney Studio lot to begin shooting the second season. John set out for work on his first day back with a load of Stella’s toys, including a three-foot-tall teddy bear and a grocery bag full of plastic food in the backseat of his car. When Stella and I showed up to the first show of the 2003 season, we were in for a bit of a surprise. She opened the door to John’s dressing room, and he and the teddy bear were already seated at a miniature tea party. John had Stella-ed up half of his dressing room with a little table and chairs borrowed from the set-dressing department. He was perched on a toddler-size chair, teacup in hand, pinky finger extended. He smiled at Stella and said in his fanciest voice, “Oh, dooooo come in.” John had also brought a couple pairs of Stella’s pajamas. He told her that she could stay later on show nights this season, now that she was turning five.

Over the previous year, John had fallen back in love with television. And the feeling was mutual. Not only did John find himself on the perfect show at the perfect time but he was working with the perfect people. He adored the 8 Simple Rules characters and the talented cast and crew who brought them to life. And they adored him. Some of his coworkers, by virtue of their youth, were fairly new to the business. They truly appreciated the opportunity to work side by side with one of the most entertaining and grateful actors they would ever meet. They had the opportunity to learn from a true sitcom veteran. His show business advice, whether heartfelt or tongue in cheek, was received gratefully by all of them.

During rehearsals, he often reminded them about his “one simple rule,” a rule that was very familiar to us at home. Any time we accidentally poked ourselves in the eye while gesticulating, or burped while telling a dramatic story, or tripped and dropped a plate on the way to the dinner table, John would announce, “Okay, everybody, if that happens on show night, just keep going.” The cast of 8 Simple Rules never knew how prophetic John’s motto would be.

© 2010 AMY YASBECK

Read More Show Less

First Chapter

With Love and Laughter, John Ritter


By Amy Yasbeck

Gallery

Copyright © 2010 Amy Yasbeck
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9781416598411

chapter 20

One Simple Rule:
“If That Happens on Show Night, Just Keep Going!”

Early in 2002, John, Stella, and I took a trip to Florida to visit Disney World and see my sister Ann and her husband, Jim. Disney World with Stella was a blast, and I got to show her where Mommy swam around as a mermaid all those years ago in Splash, Too. We stayed in Naples at the Ritz-Carlton, and John had brought some scripts to read for the coming TV season. John always had a pile of prospective TV series scripts, sent by producers and writers, awaiting his perusal. He gave each production his consideration, although he had not been so keen on the idea of jumping back into a half-hour situation comedy. But now that he was the father of a young child again, he wanted a more predictable schedule than guest-starring and film roles afforded him. The world of sitcoms missed him, and John was opening up to the fact that maybe he missed them a little, too.

When we got to the hotel, John tossed a script for an ABC Disney family comedy into a beach bag along with four books and several magazines, and rushed Stella and me out the door with his famous “Here we go!” As I stood onshore with Stella in my arms, she took one look at the waves and started squirming with excitement. Thank God, John was a master at the art of sunscreen application. After all those summers of having to slather his three kids all at once, he had it down to a science—kid number four was not about to get the best of him.

He would gently turn Stella by the top of her head to face him, like he was opening a jar of pickles, and deftly pat dollops of SPF 50 over every inch of her exposed Ritter-pale skin, repeating the word “bink” with every dab. The ritual was inexplicably soothing, like the tranquilizing effect of massaging an alligator’s stomach. John would then quickly rub in the sunscreen while laying out the rules of ocean safety, eye to eye, in a very serious tone, like he was the Mick to Stella’s Rocky Balboa.

I took Stella out into the water, while John stretched out on the patchwork of hotel towels we had constructed for our headquarters. I saw him pick up the script for a show called 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter. His first impression of it was that the title was way too long, and he told me later that he was actually expecting not to like it. John had been offered so many sitcom-dad roles that they all pretty much blended together, and he didn’t have much hope that this one would be any better. I watched him give it a cursory read—as in, “bullshit, bullshit, my part”—and he was smiling and laughing to himself. But he didn’t spend very much time on it before tossing it back in the beach bag and taking out a book from his ever-present collection of hardcover novels.

John had no qualms about bringing several books with him even on a short jaunt—history, fiction, suspense, biography, politics—not to mention (but I will, just this once) newspapers, comic books, cartoon compilations, graphic novels, Mad magazines, and anything else he could get his hands on. Home and abroad, a sizable collection of his partially read books and periodicals could be found in every room. Still, he would often take several trips to the local bookstore once we had reached our destination. Sometimes, he would finish one and give it away to whoever happened to be nearby in an attempt to lighten our luggage for the return trip. Upon returning home, however, he would more often than not go to our neighborhood bookstore to replace the one he had gifted on our trip. John had a remarkable passion for reading that he exuberantly shared with his family and friends. He would always excitedly tell me about whatever book he had just finished reading, making a big deal of stopping short so as not to give away any twists that might spoil the plot for me.

After I had Stella, I often employed a thinly veiled passive-aggressive response that only a frazzled new mother could get away with; I would say, “Honey, why don’t you just go ahead and tell me the whole story. You know I’m never going to have chance to read it.” John would always smile patiently and put the book up on one of our many bookshelves, while assuring me, “You will.” After John died, I found myself collecting his partially read books from every room in our house, as well as from his dressing room and his car.

Never one to dog-ear a page for reference, John saved his place with bookmarks made from everything from shooting schedules to toilet paper. I stacked an armload of these books beside my bed, since sleeping through the night had become a memory at that point. I read the first book, Steve Martin’s novel The Pleasure of My Company… and I felt like John was reading a bedtime story aloud to me. A bedtime story about a man with agonizing, paralyzing obsessive-compulsive disorder and the social worker who loves him, but a bedtime story all the same. When I turned a page about two-thirds of the way through, I found a green plastic sword-shaped toothpick marking the last page he’d read. John must’ve been interrupted—perhaps he’d been pounced on by a freshly bathed Stella, or remembered that the Dodger game was on, or gotten a phone call from one of his big kids, or decided his nightly bowl of cornflakes was beckoning, or got an offer from his exhausted but amorous wife that he couldn’t refuse. And he never read further. But I did. In those first months, setting aside his makeshift bookmark and turning the page was as much of a concession to “moving on” as I could make.

Voracious reader that he was, John was just finishing off the entire pile of scripts he’d lugged down to Florida by the time dinner rolled around. I reminded him that we were supposed to eat at my sister’s house in Fort Myers at seven thirty, then I asked him what he thought of the scripts. He answered that there was “nothing there.” I think that would have been that, he would’ve missed the boat, if we hadn’t gotten stuck in traffic on the Tamiami Trail and shown up an hour late for dinner with a passed-out Stella in tow. Ann and her husband, Jim, had just finished watching My Wife and Kids and began recounting some of Damon Wayans’s best lines over dinner.

Ann has one of those laughs that tends to kick into high gear when she gets going, shifting quickly from a laugh to a bray. The more she tries to stop, the more intense it gets. It kind of leaves you wondering whether you should laugh along or open up a can of Heimlich maneuver on her ass. John loved it though. And the more she talked about Damon and how unexpected and outrageous his interactions with his kids were on the show, the more engaged John became. We mused about fathers in general, how they can simultaneously be all-knowing and idiots, and how entertainingly satisfying that is to observe.

Over the course of that conversation, something clicked with John. When we got back to the hotel, he went straight to the no pile on the table and pulled out the script for 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter, took it over to the couch, and began to reread it with an open mind and a pencil. The pencil was always a positive sign. When John worked on a script, he wrote in the margins and all over the page. He was scribbling and mouthing the words and laughing to himself. I knew he was feeling invested in this character now and was beginning to picture himself in the role. Stella and I kissed him good night and I went to put her to bed. After she fell asleep, I came out and found him sound asleep with his glasses on, pencil in hand, midscribble. I closed the script, knowing that this was the show for John.

The next day, he talked me into taking our three-year-old up with us on a parasail. John could pretty much talk me into anything. And while we were in the air, he told me he was going to tell his agent yes on the project.

Viewers who had grown up with John were happy to have him back on prime time. The actor who had entertained them on Three’s Company for years with his “roommate problems” was back in their living rooms, now playing a married guy with three kids. His character, Paul Hennessy, was tackling the same issues that a lot of the folks were dealing with at home. The show was an instant hit, winning The People’s Choice Award for best new comedy in January of 2003.

The awards ceremony was on the same day that we were taping Hollywood Squares together for the Valentine’s Day show. Henry Winkler was producing it and had added cut-aways before the commercial breaks. The hand-held camera would pan up and around the gigantic tic-tac-toe grid to catch some of the behind-the-scenes chatter. John saw the camera traveling to our box and whispered in my ear to ask him what he liked best about being on the show. I did and he replied, “Not wearing pants.” And he wasn’t. Henry was very familiar with John’s penchant for dropping comedy trou. Not surprisingly, he and his underpants made it on the air. Luckily, Pantless John always came across more Winnie the Pooh than Winnie the Flasher.

The five-episode taping started on time, but we still got behind schedule. The producers had to ask the celebrity couples to forgo a wardrobe change, thereby blowing the game show illusion that we shot over a five-day period. With the help of the Hollywood Squares crew and our lead-footed limo driver, we made it to the awards just in time.

This was the big fat year of My Big Fat Greek Wedding, produced by Tom Hanks. He and his wife, Rita Wilson, were seated about ten rows in front of us on the aisle. The movie won an award in practically every category, and Tom got up and down off that stage so many times that it got kind of funny. Then the category for Best New Comedy came up and 8 Simple Rules won. John jumped up, ran down the aisle, and said, “Eat shit, Tom,” into his ear on the way to the stage. Tom was still doubled over laughing when John went up and gave one of the most eloquent and gracious acceptance speeches on behalf of any show I’d ever heard.

At the end of August 2003, 8 Simple Rules returned to production on the Disney Studio lot to begin shooting the second season. John set out for work on his first day back with a load of Stella’s toys, including a three-foot-tall teddy bear and a grocery bag full of plastic food in the backseat of his car. When Stella and I showed up to the first show of the 2003 season, we were in for a bit of a surprise. She opened the door to John’s dressing room, and he and the teddy bear were already seated at a miniature tea party. John had Stella-ed up half of his dressing room with a little table and chairs borrowed from the set-dressing department. He was perched on a toddler-size chair, teacup in hand, pinky finger extended. He smiled at Stella and said in his fanciest voice, “Oh, dooooo come in.” John had also brought a couple pairs of Stella’s pajamas. He told her that she could stay later on show nights this season, now that she was turning five.

Over the previous year, John had fallen back in love with television. And the feeling was mutual. Not only did John find himself on the perfect show at the perfect time but he was working with the perfect people. He adored the 8 Simple Rules characters and the talented cast and crew who brought them to life. And they adored him. Some of his coworkers, by virtue of their youth, were fairly new to the business. They truly appreciated the opportunity to work side by side with one of the most entertaining and grateful actors they would ever meet. They had the opportunity to learn from a true sitcom veteran. His show business advice, whether heartfelt or tongue in cheek, was received gratefully by all of them.

During rehearsals, he often reminded them about his “one simple rule,” a rule that was very familiar to us at home. Any time we accidentally poked ourselves in the eye while gesticulating, or burped while telling a dramatic story, or tripped and dropped a plate on the way to the dinner table, John would announce, “Okay, everybody, if that happens on show night, just keep going.” The cast of 8 Simple Rules never knew how prophetic John’s motto would be.

© 2010 AMY YASBECK



Continues...

Excerpted from With Love and Laughter, John Ritter by Amy Yasbeck Copyright © 2010 by Amy Yasbeck. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 23 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(15)

4 Star

(2)

3 Star

(3)

2 Star

(3)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 23 Customer Reviews
  • Posted January 3, 2011

    You'll fall even more in love with John Ritter...

    This doesn't read as a biography so much as a glimpse into the life of one of Hollywood's most beloved and enduring comedic actors. Yasbeck recounts (and simultaneously resurrects) her late husband's spirit, inspiring love and laughter in every reader. It's a beautifully written book that really allows Ritter's fans to connect with him on a more personal level even after his passing, and (if possible) makes you fall even more in love with him.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted October 30, 2010

    pick it up....read it and smile

    I read this book and found that John Ritter was such an wonderful person who let everyone into his life....I believe you should let him into yours...you will not regret it !

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 15, 2010

    What a great book

    I just finished this book in two days. It was a wonderful tribute to a man who many of us remember from "Three's Company". He was a terrific actor and this glimpse into his life with his family and friends shows what a real 'love' he really was. It is too bad that the world lost him too soon. We loved you John. Thanks for the memories.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 9, 2010

    Funny and poignant

    I couldn't put the book down. The vignettes of John's life are both funny and poignant. Amy's insights help us see that John Ritter lived a life of love and laughter. John Ritter's loss became a crusade for Amy to make people more aware of aortic health. She has established the John Ritter Foundation for Aortic Health and continues to educate others. It is a book worth reading.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 25, 2012

    Jay&kae review

    I love threes company & his movies. This book is very logical going into his life & telling what it was actually like with Tex & Dorothy school life T.V. fame and Death. I hope stella (johns daughter) is fine without John. That has to be the hardest thing being a famous actor's daughter. I love John Ritter he was Classic. R.i.P.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted March 13, 2011

    Highly Recommended

    My Aunt survived this horrible heart problem that killed John Ritter. She saw his wife on a TV show promoting her book and she had to have one - I purchased the book for her for Christmas - she read it and decided she wanted all her (8) brothers and sisters to have one also - she has encouraged all of them to get tested. So far no one has the same heart problem. My Aunt was very lucky. God was truly with her. The book is excellent! Forest Mom

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 7, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted March 23, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 12, 2012

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted October 8, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted September 23, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted May 13, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 28, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 9, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted October 8, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 18, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 12, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted September 30, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted October 23, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted September 25, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 23 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)