If I had daughters, and if I were to write them letters of things I wanted them to know, at the top of the list would be: Do not eat an entire bag (and I’m not talking snack-sized) of honey-wheat pretzels in a 36-hour period. Especially when you’re dipping those pretzels in peanut butter.

Lucky for me and the rest of her readers, the character Barbara had slightly more interesting advice for her daughters in Elizabeth Noble’s latest book, Things I Want My Daughters to Know.

When my boss was visiting my office last week to join me on some client meetings, she saw the book on the side of my desk. Interested, she picked it up and started to read the summary on the inside cover before looking up and saying, “Wait. Is she writing things she wants her daughter to know because she’s going to die?” When I said yes, she dropped the book like I’d just confirmed that I had soaked it in cat pee before allowing her to touch it, and said, “Ohhhhh no. I can’t read something like that. Too sad. If I want sad, I’ll watch Beaches, but who wants to be sad anyway?”

The weird thing is, it isn’t really all that sad. Not in the same way Beaches is sad or Steel Magnolias is sad. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get that burning feeling in my nose that I get when I’m trying not to cry - but just a couple of times, really! Although the book IS about a mother preparing for death and eventually dying, it’s really more about the lives of the ones she leaves behind - her four daughters and her husband - than anyone else. It sounds crazy to describe the book as being light, but…well, it kinda is.

I can’t say Things I Want My Daughters to Know is going to make it to my list of favorites for the year, but I can say that I found it to be a truly enjoyable read. Here are a few passages to explain why.


"Besides, it’s 2006. They cure cancer these days. They catch it early, they treat it “aggressively” (that expression makes me think all the oncologists wil charge around the ward looking like Mel Gibson in Braveheart, but I don’t suppose that’s what they mean…."

This particular quote reminds me of my friend Alice, who was diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma a few years ago. Her doctors treated it “aggressively” as well, and, thankfully, she is alive and well today, but she once told me how irritated she gets when people compare a bout with cancer to climbing Mount Everest (because people CHOOSE to climb Mt. Everest, and no idiot in her right mind would choose to get cancer).

Or

"Skiing was exactly like smoking. It made absolutely no sense when you explained it. You put these narrow little planks of wood on your feet - and P.S., you are freezing your arse off as you do so - and then you get dragged to the top of a mountain, where you throw yourself off and try to get to the bottom as fast as possible. Made no sense whatsoever. Oh, and it costs you thousands of pounds. To be scared for your life."

Well said, Ms. Noble! This summed up precisely why I’ve never been convinced to try skiing again since the debacle that was my first skiing lesson in Gatlinburg, Tennessee when I was about 10. I ended up taking off my skis and walking - very very carefully - down the mountain before throwing in the towel in favor of a nice hot toddy at the bar. Oh wait. I was 10, so it was more like a hot chocolate, but a toddy sounds much nicer, no?

The rest of the book is filled with equally delectable morsels so that it doesn’t really matter that I turned the last page feeling like I never really got to know anyone, except maybe the dead mother character. It was a fun read, with fun characters and plot lines, and was a pleasant little summer surprise. So: try it, Mikey. You’ll like it.