I'm perfect, you're doomed: tales from a Jehovah's Witness upbringing

*Starred Review* Given that Abrahams is now a stand-up comic and spoken-word poet, it makes perfect sense to begin her very funny memoir with her performance debut at the Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Kingdom Hall, at age 8 (her presentation was about freedom from demon possession). She describes the children's books she read as a child as a cross between Dr. Seuss rhymes and tales of how sinners would scream and gnash their teeth at Armageddon. In her world, Smurfs were little blue demons and yard sales were enticements from Satan. As a bored teenager with OCD, she didn't know what to do with herself or how to make sense of the world. On the verge of 18, she married a 24-year-old part-time college math teacher because, even if his interest in her was, at best, halfhearted, she wanted a boyfriend and didn't know any other Jehovah's Witnesses who liked her. Anyway, she reasons, this is what adults did, and I was an adult.  It wasn't long before she longed to be out of the marriage. Between threats of suicide, she tried to be disfellowshipped, or shunned, by her congregation, which proved surprisingly difficult to accomplish. Abrahams is a natural writer whose prose flows effortlessly as she easily mixes throwaway humor and painful memories in a compelling narrative.--Sawyers, June Copyright 2009 Booklist

When Abrahams was growing up, her world was neatly divided between those who would live forever in a paradise on earth and all the "worldly" people her Jehovah's Witness family prayed for. Her congregation forbade Christmas and Halloween, aggressively shunned anyone who left the fold and taught children that birthday parties were of the devil. For kicks in her early teens, Abrahams would go witnessing door-to-door with her pal Lisa, a die-hard J-Dub. This acerbic, witty memoir chronicles the first 23 years of Abraham's life with candor and a good dose of comedy. Unlike other memoirs written by the disenchanted, Abrahams musters some affection for her decent but screwed-up family, and even for the religion itself. Where the story hits a rough patch is in her account of her late teens and early 20s, when she dropped out of high school; rushed into a disastrous teen marriage; fell into alcohol, drugs and adultery; and finally "fired Jehovah as [her] personal bodyguard" and became an apostate divorcee. None of this is particularly funny, and Abrahams's tale of self-destruction ends abruptly enough that readers will wonder how she managed to pull herself together. (Mar. 3) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Replete with all the angst and adolescent passion requisite in a coming-of-age memoir, stand-up comedian Abrahams's debut features a special grabberthe expectation of the impending end of days. The author was reared as a Jehovah's Witness, convinced that the world as we know it would soon end. The word from the Kingdom Halls where Witnesses gathered was that nonbelievers would perish any minute now in a fiery apocalypse, the Great War of Armageddon. Therefore, the author knew that worldly things like birthday celebrations, divorces, Smurfs, Halloween, yard sales and sex with strangers must be avoided in favor of regular Bible study and knocking on sinners' doors. Sister Kyria learned that "Jesus was the head over man; man was the head over woman; and woman was the head over cooking peach cobbler and shutting up." Somehow she became interested in matters not covered in Watchtower, Awake! or meetings at the Pawtucket Kingdom Hall. These included e-mail flirtations, weed, vodka and, in particular, sex. Her co-religionists soon became convinced that Abrahams, once tagged as gifted, had been taken by a demon spirit. Readers will be convinced it was the spirit of a comic performer, doubtless acquired at her early Theocratic Ministry School appearances as well as later competitive poetry slams. She was, naturally, "disfellowshipped" and thus deprived of perpetual life. Undoubtedly the cleverest lapsed Jehovah's Witness yet, Abrahams offers a graphic, mordant, wickedly distaff take on the first two decades of her current life. It's a confessional talking cure, melancholy as well as funny as it chronicles unharmonious family life, a short miserable marriage, foul boyfriends, booze and pervasive navet. As oddly engrossing as repeated slow-motion viewings of an accident in an amusement park. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

*Starred Review* Given that Abrahams is now a stand-up comic and spoken-word poet, it makes perfect sense to begin her very funny memoir with her performance debut at the Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Kingdom Hall, at age 8 (her presentation was about freedom from demon possession). She describes the children s books she read as a child as a cross between "Dr. Seuss rhymes and tales of how sinners would scream and gnash their teeth at Armageddon." In her world, Smurfs were "little blue demons" and yard sales were enticements from Satan. As a bored teenager with OCD, she didn t know what to do with herself or how to make sense of the world. On the verge of 18, she married a 24-year-old part-time college math teacher because, even if his interest in her was, at best, halfhearted, she wanted a boyfriend and didn t know any other Jehovah s Witnesses who liked her. Anyway, she reasons, "this is what adults did, and I was an adult." It wasn t long before she longed to be out of the marriage. Between threats of suicide, she tried to be "disfellowshipped," or shunned, by her congregation, which proved surprisingly difficult to accomplish. Abrahams is a natural writer whose prose flows effortlessly as she easily mixes throwaway humor and painful memories in a compelling narrative. Copyright 2009 Booklist Reviews.

When Abrahams was growing up, her world was neatly divided between those who would live forever in a paradise on earth and all the "worldly" people her Jehovah's Witness family prayed for. Her congregation forbade Christmas and Halloween, aggressively shunned anyone who left the fold and taught children that birthday parties were of the devil. For kicks in her early teens, Abrahams would go witnessing door-to-door with her pal Lisa, a die-hard J-Dub. This acerbic, witty memoir chronicles the first 23 years of Abraham's life with candor and a good dose of comedy. Unlike other memoirs written by the disenchanted, Abrahams musters some affection for her decent but screwed-up family, and even for the religion itself. Where the story hits a rough patch is in her account of her late teens and early 20s, when she dropped out of high school; rushed into a disastrous teen marriage; fell into alcohol, drugs and adultery; and finally "fired Jehovah as [her] personal bodyguard" and became an apostate divorce. None of this is particularly funny, and Abrahams's tale of self-destruction ends abruptly enough that readers will wonder how she managed to pull herself together. (Mar. 3)