This is a first for me--I couldn't wait to re-read this book even before I was finished reading it. You can tell this book was written by a poet; the way Smith uses language takes my breath away. Her story is so insightful and illuminating, helpful and relatable.

I am not religious, and I can see this book becoming my bible--a manual on how to move on and find peace, even if you can't forgive. How to recognize the beauty that exists in your life, even when everything feels unspeakably dark.

"But here's the thing about carrying light with you: No matter where you go, and no matter what you find--or don't find--you change the darkness just by entering it. You clear a path through it."

Six stars out of five

*4.5 stars*

I've always enjoyed Maggie Smith's poetry, and I'm so glad that I also loved her debut memoir. The structure of the memoir, told in little vignettes, made for a fast-paced and impactful reading experience.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the free e-copy.

Initially, I was excited about the vignette, journal scrawling mode of this book because the words sparked and flashed on the page. The prose is vibrant. The marriage dead. I've rarely been in long relationships, never married, and did raise a child alone, so, perhaps what resonates more with people who have suffered greatly when a relationship ended, especially if they have children, didn't connect as much with me. I felt like the author was deliberately teasing her readers by speaking to us repeatedly by saying I could tell you about this (whatever heightened scene) but I'm keeping this to myself. WTF? Why tell us anything then? The husband's name is always protected, his identity somewhat. I haven't read "Keep Moving," which she mentions in this memoir, but it sounds like these two books may be rather similar since they both cover her divorce, postpartum, and miscarriages. She does mention something about that book being shelved as Self-Help, and this memoir could also be shelved in Lyrical Self-Help. For me, I wish the author didn't always come across as the perfect parent, even if she is, and her relationship with her children always comes across as beautiful and happy, which is why people may read this book based on the title, but we hear so much about her anger with the husband ending the marriage (he falls in love with another woman in another state that she never meets). Maybe that's okay since we get the sense what Smith feels she has lost is a long marriage like her parents, a connection with someone who has known her since she was a college student, a person who has been with her through pregnancies, but we never get the sense that his absence is really such a terrible thing, other than her family apparently loved him also, but we never really see this love between the two of them. It's a quick and piercing read with several playlists and I do think it could motivate others to write through their agony, and find a way to contribute to making this place more beautiful.

A smart and beautifully written memoir, engaging on the image and sentence level, with a poet's heart. I admire the tenacity here as well as the structure--the use of sectioning is so interesting.

"I didn't want this lemonade. My kids didn't want this lemonade. This lemonade was not worth the lemons. And yet, the lemons were mine. I had to make something from them, so I did."

I have never read a book that resonated like this one. This is a must-read for any mother going through a divorce. Raw, real, all-consuming. I knew I would cry every time I picked it up, and I chose the cathartic cry every time.

I can't wait to have my own copy of this. I know I'll be reading it over and over.

You Could Make This Place Beautiful, is a poetic memoir of the life of Maggie Smith, a beloved poet whose poem "Good Bones" went viral during the pandemic. It is the story of her marriage falling apart, told beautifully, and how she manages to find herself and strengthen her family despite the loss. Highly recommended. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.