This book was a disappointment, even with my low expectations. Two stars seems like a pretty generous rating, considering that Mindy Kaling’s book is all over the place and sometimes wanders into politically incorrect territory.
I think Mindy is a talented actress and scriptwriter, but she has a lot to learn about writing. Although she seems interesting, her writing style is so tangential and scattered that I literally got a headache from this book. Apropos of nothing, entire chapters are dedicated to her Jewish friends and descriptions of the selfies on her Blackberry. I also could not believe she passed off her random lists as chapters. To me, that seems like the height of laziness by a disinterested author.
Most anecdotes didn’t really strike a chord with me, but when they did, they were quite poignant. I wish she had paid more attention to really fleshing out her characters. Despite her constant yammering about her two best friends (and roommates), the only thing I know definitively about them is their race. Also, Mindy gushes about her parents and brother, but I haven’t the first idea about them, either. That’s how vague this book is. I don’t feel like I learned much about Mindy either, except that she really likes comedy, food, shopping, and Amy Poehler, in that order.
Narcissistic, occasionally funny, and very disorganized, this is only recommended for die hard fans of the chick lit genre. Or staunch Mindy Kaling fans. It would be best if you’re both.