Jenny Noa
Writer. Performer.
PW
Booklife
Editor's Pick!
Noa’s deeply personal, sharply penned, often comic collection of essays is her first and—by her own account—likely last book. In crisp, conversational prose studded with insights and epigrammatic wit (“What I wanted was to be seen and heard, but that’s a tough ask when you also don’t want anyone to look at you”), Noa explores a life shaped by childhood trauma, self-doubt, and anxiety that persisted into adulthood. Noa shares her struggles with handling a lack of maternal love, the jolting loss of her husband, and a crippling diagnosis of a clinical disorder that had long been taken not as a serious health issue but as her own personal failing: laziness or shyness.
Yet, her story is also one of resilience—pursuing dreams, confronting limits, and discovering the humility to let go when needed for the soul’s well-being—and the telling, honed at live storytelling events in Los Angeles, sparks and pleases as she celebrates the trust of a cat, the magic of laughter, the “sorcerous simplicity” of a sourdough starter, and committing, “bruised but not beaten,” to a creative life despite feeling trapped in a job and too overwhelmed to leave it. Still, Bad Dreams is an unflinching display of vulnerability. Rather than a wallow, though, these essays hone in on the telling, resonant detail and urgent moments of self-realization. Noa’s candor is humbling; some descriptions of shame, disappointment, and loss are presented with such frank power that readers at times may catch themselves breathless or wanting to offer encouragement and advice.
Fortunately, as she surveys her life—from childhood relationships to the challenges of building a career in Hollywood to her choice to leave Los Angeles—Noa’s hard-won flashes of self-discovery are rousing and relatable. One crack comic phrase resonates deeply: Noa’s reflection on her own life—“What doesn’t kill you makes you stranger”—perfectly encapsulates the essence of her story and her honest take on the aphorisms that make people feel better. A truth-teller, she doesn’t feel stronger, she is simply tired.
Takeaway: Crisply told, highly relatable essays of resilience and self-acceptance.
Comparable Titles: Christina Sharpe’s Ordinary Notes, Cazzie David’s No One Asked for This.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Kirkus
Reviews
"In this collection of essays, Noa recounts living with grief and body image disorder in Los Angeles.
In this anthology, the author collects intensely sincere and often self-deprecating short essays about her decades in Los Angeles and the moments in her life that led her there. Many of the pieces were originally written while Noa was living in Los Angeles, to be performed in live shows. The entries are loosely chronological and separated into five “stages.” The first stage, “Intentionally Left Blank,” is largely focused on the author’s childhood, highlighting Noa’s mother’s influence on her and her mental health. Stage Two, “Carcinojenny,” covers her time caring for her husband as he died of colon cancer and her subsequent grief. In Stage Three, “Body of Work,” Noa reflects on her struggles with depression, grief, and especially body image disorder. Stage Four, “Corpses of Hollywood,” looks at the entertainment industry and details Noa’s efforts to break into acting. Finally, Stage Five, “Consolation,” grapples with giving up on one’s dreams. While all of these overarching topics are heavy, Noa still manages to be funny throughout in her delivery. It is clear from reading the essays that writing them was cathartic for the author; though she doesn’t use that word, she does say early on, “This book exists because of all the things I wish I’d thought of sooner or had the courage to say in the moment.” (Noa’s struggle to speak up for herself is a theme throughout all five stages.) Occasionally, the self-deprecation becomes hard to bear, especially when Noa writes about her body image disorder or giving up. (Regarding the body positivity movement, she states, “I know you have to love every wrinkle and every curve, every pound. But how you get there is a mystery to me.”) These passages are so difficult to read because Noa succeeds so completely at endearing herself to the reader. Despite the heavy content, the narrative still ends on an uplifting note, with a change of scenery and a hint of a changed perspective.
A smart, amusing, and moving anthology of short writings about grief, depression, and giving up." (Kirkus Reviews)