Fightball: Dying of Suck

Fightball: Dying of Suck

by Kris Wehrmeister


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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780692554173
Publisher: Pretty All True
Publication date: 10/24/2015
Pages: 260
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.59(d)

About the Author

Kris Wehrmeister is the long-time author of the blog Pretty All True, at which she offers a mixture of humor, memoir, and literary fiction. Kris is a used-to-be attorney, mother of two daughters, and wife to one man. She lives in Lake Oswego, Oregon, where she spends her time arguing with her daughters Maj and Kallan, who are brilliant and obstreperous. When her daughters are at school, Kris argues with the dogs, of which there are three - Jack the Terrier, Persie the Labrador, and Hazel the Weimaraner. Additionally, although no one would describe Kris as a "people-person," she occasionally meets with friends for beer or coffee accompanied by petty disagreements, of which she is fond. Kris knows all the lyrics to all the songs, and she sings along. Always. In her spare time, Kris writes.

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Fightball: Dying of Suck 5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 1 reviews.
Cameron More than 1 year ago
Some five-ish years ago, almost six now, when I was new to writing online (as opposed to just journaling my thought-vomit), I wandered, much like Gretel, into a witch's dooryard. This witch lured you with laughter and wit so dry it crackled, she fed you beautiful imagery, and then cooked you with brilliant, lovely snark in the comments. Okay, maybe not. The cooking part of the analogy doesn't quite work, but it was good up until then. Kris Wehrmeister of Pretty All True is that witch, and I have just been cooked again. Or something. Fightball: Dying of Suck is Kris's second 2015 release, the first in a series of what I will presume will be more snort-out-loud-while-your-husband-is-sleeping-next-to-you funny memoirs which I truly hope concludes with her elder daughter's proposed masterwork, "ALL THE TIMES MOTHER HAS FAILED ME AND ALSO A FEW TIMES DADDY MESSED UP, by Maj Wehrmeister." Obviously. You know that outward-blown snorting, hissed-breath laugh you do when you're reading? Few pages didn't cause that. I laughed out loud enough times that I ended up reading bits aloud to my eight-year-old son. Ill-advised, that, since now he regards then-eight-also Kallan as a spirit animal of sorts. That ends well for me, I bet. I won't lie, this book isn't for everyone. If, however, witty, hyper-literate hyperbole, finding the tenderness in absurdity, and the kind of truth that's certainly stranger than fiction excites you as much as poo-slugs and the number 72, I highly recommend picking Fightball up. Full disclosure: I won my paperback copy on someone else's blog, and Kris was kind enough to flatter me in her autographed note, but the unattractive and ill-timed snorting was all my own.