Wisdom in Nonsense by Heather O'Neill

As a self-proclaimed Heather O'Neill fangirl, I am excited beyond belief when I find out about this book. Whenever I've heard her speak about her childhood - and her father in particular - I've always wanted to know more. Once you've heard even the tiniest details about her upbringing, it makes complete sense that she became a writer. Her childhood was literally a book waiting to be told. 

With the long-awaited book finally in my hands, I want to jump right in - but first I have to take a quick moment of silence and appreciate the cover. Fantastic yet again. Amen.

Cover art inhaled, admired and traced lovingly with an index finger, I can't wait to tear into the meat. The words. The world of Heather O'Neill. Deep breath. I dive in...

Heather's words explode onto the page, fly through my eye sockets, and course straight to wherever the best drugs release their chemical fireworks in the brain. Each phrase is a reliable heavy dose of dopamine, full of anticipation, pleasure and reward. They travel through my system, releasing endorphins and seratonin along the way and before I know it, I'm grinning like an idiot. The pages practically turn themselves.

"The Wisdom of Nonsense" is comprised of various life lessons relayed to her from her single father. It's not typical fatherly advice though - unless your old man's the type who encourages you to play the tuba to ensure job security, the kind who wants you to think that crime pays, or who tries to convince you that Paul Newman stole his life. He's the kind of spry father found in fairy tales, in fantastical storybooks...he's the stuff of legend. When I think about it, he's exactly the type of father figure you'd find in a Heather O'Neill novel. Yet he was real.

Though his life lessons might sound initially seem ludicrous on the surface, knowing him intimately only as a daughter can, the author distills his crazy absinthe whorls of advice down to their true essence, deciphering them into what turns out to be some pretty rock solid guidance, which apparently wasn't so preposterous after all. It turns out, he was a mixologist of words and Heather was a connoisseur. In the end, whatever he was offering up clearly worked. His seemingly discordant thoughts swilled around, settled in and spat out an independent, confidently rebellious rock star author of a daughter.

Through each of these tales, via Heather's interpretations, we discover a father who was a co-conspirator, a criminally funny criminal and, yes, "an asshole" (her own words). And, for that, I thank both of them, really, for creating another piece of genius.

So, yes, here I am giving another Heather O'Neill book five stars. She really can do no wrong. If anything, I am left wanting more and wish this was more of a full-length book but, then again, isn't that the greatest feat an author can achieve - leaving the reader wanting more?

Mission accomplished. I can't wait to see what she comes up with next.