My pal Jessica has written a fine memoir called Invisible Sisters. The reviews have been excellent, and now the book is high on the Movers & Shakers list for Kindle. Here's a sample from the review in the Atlanta Journal Constitution:
"The opportunity to reclaim herself came when Sarah died in 1992. Still unable to mourn, Handler envies a friend who sobs at the funeral, and finally confronts her father, furious with him for leaving her sister’s shiva early—-and for leaving her, as well. “You still have a daughter,” she tells him. “I’m still alive, and I don’t want you to leave.” It’s the first step toward breaking her family’s conspiracy of silence, and in refusing to stay invisible to him, or herself."
For me, it's the clear, fine writing, and the emotional honesty that make this book soar. Here's an example: "I have been to London and Paris, Rio de Janeiro, and Guadalajara. I know the lyrics to nearly every Beatles song. I have soothed celebrity egos and squelched producer tantrums in Hollywood greenrooms. I can give a pill to a cat, and can thump a cantaloupe and make a good guess as to whether it's ripe. I can parallel park. I can sing harmony. I can make gazpacho. But losing the sister I knew best diminished me."
And I can personally attest to several of these accomplishments, having been a grateful passenger as Jessica drove, sang harmony, and slipped her car into an amazingly narrow parking spot. This is a fine book, and I suggest to my readers that you trot right out and buy it.