What a gift Daniel Mallory Ortberg is. I’ve followed his column for years, and his writing is refreshing and necessary.

Unlike what seems like most of the internet, I wasn't a reader of Lavery's before this book, but I was recommended it by someone whose reading taste I trust and jumped right in. So I was unaware that a lot of Lavery's work is about having grown up super Christian and also about his transition. When the book opened up with scripture right from the jump I felt like I was back in my religion classes from a youth in Catholic school, but was moreso put off by the writing style which felt really disjointed, rambling, without a clear point, and hard to understand. I do appreciate a lot Lavery's ideas about trans life and his insistence that trans identity doesn't have to be so black and white, and agree with many other readers that the Golden Girls essay is excellent. But I felt this overall an inconsistent collection.

This is the first of Ortberg's (now Daniel Lavery) books that I'd read, after loving The Toast for years, and I didn't know what to expect. I found it incredibly resonant -- not just for readers who are trans, or contemplating transitioning, but as a woman trying to navigate everyday life while being bombarded with various cultural messages about femininity and what it means to be a woman. Lavery makes brilliant and unexpected connections -- from the Bible, from Evelyn Waugh, the Golden Girls, and Greek mythology -- all in rapid sequence, one after another. The result is unexpectedly funny and poignant in turn, andI learned a lot about myself in ways I didn't expect as I read it.

Not sure what I was expecting from this book. Mildly interesting but I don't think I'm the target audience. Hate to admit I didn't finish it.

Ortberg wrote The Merry Spinster, a work of dark humor that convinced me that he is a genius. This book is a lot different, although at times the same voice peeks through. My thanks go to Atria Books and Net Galley for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Many of the essays in this book are recycled from Ortberg’s blog, but since I never saw the blog, all of it is new to me. The essays describe his experience as a trans man, and though it is funny in places, most of the pieces ooze pain and bitterness. And to be fair, a trans man brought up female in an evangelical Christian home, taught to consider the Rapture in every choice made, every road followed, is bound to have these things in spades. However, there is a good deal of redundancy here. After awhile I found my attention wandering, and by thirty percent of the way in, I was watching the page numbers crawl by. How much longer…?

Some of the chapter titles are full of promise, but then the chapter itself disappoints. What, this again? I did enjoy the passage on parallel parking, and the chapter on Columbo (the only man Ortberg has ever loved) cracked me up.

I have rated this title three stars for general audiences, but I suspect that for those transitioning to manhood, or for those close to someone doing so, the rating will be higher.

Recommended to those transitioning, considering transitioning, and their loved ones.

As in every essay collection, some are stronger than others. I particularly enjoyed Ortberg's use of scripture and ancient mythology as well as the literary references.

I read this after reading Becoming a Man by P. Carl. These chapters about a gay lifestyle doesn’t have the power that P. Carl’s memoir has. But it does have lots of humor along with the serious stuff. I think I made a mistake reading it when I did, because a week after reading it I want to reread it rather than making an expectation like I did. Lavery’s look at all the things that made him who his is, stayed with me.

I think I’m missing something here. Despite thinking the Mensa test was easy, I just don’t understand the stories within Something that may Shock and Discredit You. That may mean I am discredited, when I wanted to be shocked. I feel that there is probably a brilliantly funny undertow running through the stories that just didn’t reach my consciousness. A miss for me, unfortunately. 2 stars.

Thanks to Atria Books and NetGalley for a copy in exchange for my honest review.

This author writes so personally, but in a way that readers will still connect to. I love the collection of essays that isn't quite memoir, isn't quite critique, isn't quite anything except compulsively readable.

This is very "on-brand" for Daniel Lavery. Dark humor, cynical and cerebral, long paragraphs that take your breath away.

Spliced in between very insightful and personal essays on gender, identity and Daniel's transition, there are passages of the bible and philosophy. Daniel manages to make this relevant and almost exciting when applying to his own life.

This is powerful writing from a powerful voice.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the opportunity to read and review this book.

This one's a 3.5 for me. The book feels very on-brand for Danny Lavery--chock full of humor and absurdism on topics he writes about in a way that makes me feel like I'm not smart enough to keep up with him. My favorite sections of this sort-of memoir are the more poignant chapters about his transition and how it affected him. (Plus, I learned that he ate at the very Boston Market my family and I used to go to all the time--huge fangirl moment!)

The eARC contains content about his family, which he said he cut out after his estrangement. I'd be interested to know what the book is like in its finished form.

In an unlikely mix of pop culture references, Bible passages, and winking introspection, Ortberg creates a work that is neither memoir nor straightforward essay collection. Mostly centered around his recent transition, Ortberg uses cultural touchstones, both contemporary and obscure, to search for a through line that resonates across time and gender. Despite the intimate subject matter, I was left feeling like I did not have a good grasp on Ortberg, which is a shame because what I was able to glean was fascinating.

Daniel Lavery is a delight, but this book fell flat for me. The stories felt less connected than his earlier work.

Daniel’s writing is sharp, poignant and funny. This memoir is both illuminating and entertaining, and I really enjoyed his takes on pop culture.

A big fan of Daniel Lavery's humor writing from The Hairpin and The Toast, I knew this book would be witty and hilarious and chock full of obscure literary references. I didn't expect it to be part memoir, a moving and tender reflection on identity and relationships as they are reshaped in the context of gender transition. I loved this book of essays, and I think Lavery is one of the most important voices in contemporary culture.

A "memoir-adjacent" work, as Ortberg calls it, that's likely going to pull your heart strings, make you laugh, and usher you in to some self-reflection and contemplation.

Ortberg uses various passages from The Bible (as well as other works, but predominantly biblical verses) to serve as the bedrock for at least the following: Recounting moments up and to the point wherein he realized that transitioning from a female to a male was something that had to happen, various thoughts on religion whilst growing up (that first chapter about the rapture hit home--Ortberg's not the only one that lived almost day-to-day as a kid being convinced by adults that the end was nigh), and interpreting moments through the lens of a trans person (which I imagined would be very insightful, and I was happy to be right). As is unfortunately the case with stories about transitioning, there are some not-so-happy tales of Ortberg adjusting and being awkward and uncomfortable in his own skin, but there's also a sunnier side--there's plenty to laugh at here, too. While delivered via poetry/stream-of-consciousness or conversational exchange, you get plenty of opportunities to see Ortberg poke fun, daydream and riff on pop culture, classic literature, Bible stories, and a section on House Hunters, without question the book's funniest moment.

Walking a mile in another person's shoes is always a good thing to do, and, as a reader, I'm thankful to Ortberg for sharing his experience here, and in his own way. It's a unique book, and by no means sacrilegious (for the conservative Christian reader); to the contrary, I think this is a fantastic exhibit in how religion (The Bible/Christianity in this instance) can help to usher us through impossibly tough situations. Is it the main thing that brings us through? Maybe, maybe not. The author, through this not-quite-memoir, clearly is able to divine meaning, hope, humor, wisdom, and dignity through various resources.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Atria Books for the advance read.

I started reading this at 10pm and stayed up reading far into the night. Daniel Ortberg's writing has a way of seeming flippant and nonchalant while at the same time being absolutely emotionally and spiritually devastating. His last book, The Merry Spinster, applied this to fairy tales and short pieces of fiction to provide insight and expose painful cultural truths, but when he uses this skill to share pieces of his own life and recent transition, it is utterly and masterfully done beyond any words I have in my brain. He made me cry a lot, is what I'm trying to say.

I appreciate having had an opportunity to read and review this book. The appeal of this particular book was not evident to me, and if I cannot file a generally positive review I prefer simply to advise the publisher to that effect and file no review at all.

Looking forward to laugh, at least crack a smile. I sure didn't. Maybe I'm missing something...

Thanks to author, publisher and Netgalley for the chance to read this book. While I got the book for free,it had no bearing on the rating I gave it.