Why I wish I hadn’t read The Princess Diarist


I’ve spoken before about my deep connection and life long relationship with Star Wars. I was eager to again dive deeply into Carrie Fisher’s brain.

I loved how vulnerable, honest and unfiltered Wishful Thinking and Shockaholic were. But her new work feels like more of the same, and because of that it feels like a money grab. Considering the timing, I worry that that is an accurate assumption.

There was still so much of that precocious and self conscious girl I had found on her other books… but but but something about reading her frank retelling of her time on the star wars set hit a sour note with me. Did she even want to tell this story?

Star Wars is one of those things that many of us feel BELONGS to us and any other narrative other than what of ourselves we put into it is unacceptable. It is such a beautiful and selfish way to love something. And its hella wrong of me to put that onto this book. SO, I am trying hard not to. Please note: This is a wholly personal opinion.  I feel that the content was perfunctory and slapped together for the sake of putting something out to coincide with the release of new films. Carrie partially admits this. It became very clear after re-reading passages from her previous books.

I am incredibly saddened that she has not lived to write something else. In the light of the rumors that circulate her passing, I am curious to know her mindset at the time of writing The Princess Diarist.

But no matter what, Carrie and Leia will hold a place of high esteem, love and respect in my heart. And her worlds will serve as lessons I take with me. Especially those she taught us as Rosemary on 30 Rock, “don’t sit around while your junk goes cold,” and  “never go with a hippy to a 2nd location.”



In a galaxy far, far away…


Growing up I had the worlds best baby sitter. Her family lived across the street from the house my mom and I shared with my grandparents. The babysitter had two boys of her own but would watch me in the mornings and after my half days at school.

It was on a rainy day at the sitters that I watched Star Wars for the first time.  From that moment on her boys and I were hooked. We would watch the movies, play with the toys, but most of all we would make believe we were the characters. As the only girl I was always Leia.

My love of Star Wars has continued well into my adulthood, despite all the less than amazing sequels.  To be honest (and I know many fans will agree) something has been missing from the franchise for a very long time. The interest I had in the story dwindled with every over animated fight sequence.  I’ve always found cartoons less believable than puppets, make up and costuming.  I  feel like Star Wars lost its humanity. It became a game of “look at this cool thing we can do now that we couldn’t do back then. Oh, and while we’re at it lets remaster and ruin the originals.” ANIMATED JABBA THE HUT IS NOT THE FUCKING SAME, ASSHOLE.

At its core it is a story about good and evil. But its also about having hope. The sequels got the first part but lost the second pretty quickly. Rogue One has brought the hope back to Star Wars. As an immediate lead up to A New Hope how could it not?  It was like the return of an old friend. My eyes were in a near constant state of watering and my cheeks hurt from smiling. It gave us an insight in to the Rebellion that was sorely missing from all the other prequels. I just have a lot of feelings about Rogue One and should stop rambling now. But I will finish with this… Rogue One recaptured all of the things  I have always loved about Star Wars. It made me a fucking believer again. May the force be with you.