Hannah Gadsby doesn't pull any punches with this memoir, which makes it funny at times and horrifying at others. She doesn't shy away from the bad and the ugly, but there are moments of light throughout her story that give the reader a deeper understanding of the complexities found in human nature.

Thanks, NetGalley, for the ARC.

Nothing I say in this review is going to adequately express how generally good this book is because I keep wallowing in the ways it is impacting me personally. It is very good and I think a lot of people should read it. Especially now when there is a rising focus on driving LGBTQ+ folks further into the margins and erasing them from the present.

Hannah Gadsby’s Ten Steps to Nanette has laid me out flat. Before flattening me, it knocked me for a loop, took me on a rollercoaster ride and has generally discombobulated me. I’ve known for a while that I have executive function issues and probably attention deficit disorder. Reading Hannah Gadsby’s writings about the way she perceives and interacts with the world felt so familiar. I don’t think I’ve spent so much of a book seeing myself since reading the first Murderbot Diaries instalment, All Systems Red. There are similarly a lot of differences too. I lack the physical and mental capabilities of Martha Wells’ fictional agender SecUnit. I had an easier childhood and young adulthood than the very real Hannah Gadsby and a much less successful adulthood. I think that she would understand the relationship between why my earlier successes happened (external structures) and my later in life fall off the cliff (no guard rails).

Ten Steps to Nanette is a fantastic memoir. She has a specific agenda beyond telling her life story. Gadsby never dives into trauma porn, but she breaks my heart every few pages. As she walks us through her life, she provides larger context in some places. Even before she knew she was a lesbian, she was internalizing the hateful and violent messages about homosexuality. Even if she had not been gay, she was still marinated in misogyny, fatphobia, and told a hundred ways that she wasn’t good enough. Kindness and compassion are a balm for the shame. She is walking us towards the pieces of self knowledge that allow her to be more compassionate towards herself and others.

If you watched Nanette or Douglas, or her other standup shows from earlier in her career, some of the content of this book will be familiar. It is funny, and informative. There is tension. At the beginning of the book, when talking about whether Nanette was a comedy or not, she says she took what she knew about comedy and “pulled it all apart and built a monster out of its corpse.” The source of Hannah Gadsby’s comedy is her own life. Ten Steps to Nanette is partly her pulling apart the bones of her own life, but she is not building a monster from it’s corpse. She is identifying the bones that were turned into monsters as a matter of survival.

Several years ago I was working with a high school senior who was struggling to get through school. She was attending a small, private school for kids with learning disabilities. She struggled to explain herself, would become overwhelmed, and shut down. One day we were meeting with a teacher to discuss how she could fix a project that she needed a passing grade on in order to graduate. During the meeting when she was trying to explain why she was having a hard time, she put her head down on the table clearly at the end of her words. The teacher spent a long moment looking at his student with her head on the table, clearly ready to be failed. He apologized to her for not recognizing how hard she had worked on the project and for not seeing the effort she was making. He asked her if she could make a couple of format changes and agreed to give her an extension without penalty. It was a moment of kindness that should not be as extraordinary as it was. I thought of that choice that the teacher made to see that his student was engaged, was making an effort even if she wasn’t fulfilling all of the technical requirements several times while I was reading.

CWs for everyday cruelty, CSA, physical assault, rape, abortion, physical injuries, surgery, suicidal ideation, self-loathing, homophobia, misogyny, homelessness, fatphobia, drinking, drug use, and shame.

I received this as an advance reader copy from Random House – Ballantine and NetGalley. My opinions are my own.

Doctor Hannah Gadsby is a powerhouse in every sense of the word; in comedy, on stage, and as a writer. I cannot stress how incredible this memoir is - hell, I can hardly think after finishing it. Gadsby's voice is prevalent throughout this work, beautifully and occasionally tragically so. Like always, she weaves words and phrases that steal your breath away and then gives it back to you so you can laugh. I'd mention numerous moments in this work, only to fawn over its brilliance, but I am hesitant to spoil it. Nanette is a shapeless, beautiful entity and all forms of it should be experienced unprepared - for the optimal gut-punch

"There is just never a straight line to be found through a life punctuated by trauma. " -From Ten Steps to Nanette

4.5 stars

Just like Nanette isn't an easy listen in some places, Ten Steps to Nanette isn't an easy read, but it's I think a necessary one. Like her comedy, this book was smart, funny, and extremely exposing; she holds nothing back. I was fascinated with how she tells her story growing up, and some of her encounters since Nanette. A few times it was a little repetitive, like one line about liquid into chalk that kept being brought up; but it may just be my different background that didn't fully understand. This book is a must read for any fan, but also for anyone who wonders what it's like to be a queer, autistic larger woman growing up in Tasmania.

Thank you to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Trigger Warnings: “Assault, molestation, rape, injury, isolation, suicidal ideation, body image or other mental health difficulties”

(It should be mentioned that Gadsby provided these herself in the book’s introduction which I love that she did.)

The book is a lot of information coming at you, but it’s fast-paced and funny. However, there are long chapters, such as Steps 1 through 3 which I think equals the length of a novella. Since I was reading an ebook, it said that each chapter would take over 2.5 hours to read.

Gadsby makes sure you know she didn’t use a ghostwriter for this book and at first, I was thinking, “Okay, but why is that relevant?” Then she goes in and states that the ghostwriter would want to focus on things that she didn’t want to talk about. As the book progressed, I could see how this book would end up differently. Since Gadsby is the sole writer, she’s allowed to set the tone and what she wants and doesn’t want to talk about. Also, I don’t think a ghostwriter would be able to match her voice and/or thought process as well as she did by doing it herself.

The chapter marked “Step 9” was wonderful to see the development of “Nanette” and how much work, attention to detail, and struggle it was to write the show. I’ve only seen “Nanette” once (the Netflix special) and now I want to see it again and watch it knowing about the creative development behind it.

Heed the trigger warnings because they come out of nowhere without much set-up, which makes sense.

I don’t know if I’m doing things in the right order – I read the book before watching Nanette and without knowing much about it aside from the most basic details. But at least I can use this review to assure people that you can enjoy the book all on its own.

I heard about Hannah Gadsby because she, like me, is an autistic person who didn’t know until she was well into adulthood that she is autistic. I heard about her from others in that group, because many of us like to collect each other’s stories. Adult discovery of our autistic identity gives us a new language and framework through which to view ourselves, our pasts, and our relationships, and consequently we spend a great deal of time sorting and recontextualizing our memories away from the previous guiding truth of “there is something wrong with me” and towards “I am different and worthy of acceptance.”

This book is about Gadsby’s own recontextualization – not only of autism but also her queer identity and past trauma – and I appreciated being able to go on that journey with her. Despite many differences between our life experiences, there were so many observations in the book that we shared, and it means a great deal to finally have that sense of underlying similarity with other people.

It’s impossible to fully impart on others the meaning that individual memories have in this experience, and I think some readers might be unsure why certain stories are shared or what message they’re supposed to provide. But I don’t think that’s the point; this isn’t a Hollywood biopic where each event is chosen for its place in a larger narrative about how the end result was the inevitable result of what came before. Instead, this is a recounting of what seemed relevant to Gadsby at this particular point in time, as she wrote Nanette and dealt with the aftermath. Gadsby repeatedly reminds the reader that her success was anything but inevitable and depended on a great deal of luck and coincidence, in addition to her talent. The meaning of any particular event depends heavily on how you perceive yourself and how others perceive you, and this book is about exploring how changes in perception change the impact of the past. The events it describes aren’t meant to fit together in one neat narrative for the reader.

I recommend this book to anyone who has gone through this process of reframing their past through a new lens gained as an adult, whether that lens is the result of overcoming internalized homophobia, confronting past trauma, receiving an autism diagnosis, or something else. Even if your experiences don’t look like Gadsby’s, simply going on that journey with her might help you on your own.

I reviewed the ARC version of this book.

CW: Assault, molestation, rape, injury, isolation, suicidal ideation, body image, mental health difficulties.

I received an advanced reader’s copy in exchange for an honest review

This book started out pretty homespun and then crashed mightily in the final chapter. I’ve seen NANETTE quite a few times and even so, reading some of these words on the page had the capacity to affect me all over again. I would find myself having to put the last part down to take emotional breaks, much like I had during streaming the show. An excellent companion piece to one of the greatest performance works of the 21st-century. Read this book before a pre-schedule therapy session

Thank you to NetGalley and Ballantine books for the advance digital copy for review.

I came all the way back up here to the top because I felt like, even after my inexcusably long review, I hadn't made myself clear enough: Ten Steps to Nanette will most definitely be in my top books of 2022. I know it's only March, but fortunately, I'm the one in charge and can make these kinds of projections.

Nanette, the special, starts off with a story of an encounter at a bus stop, funny, cheekily told, and by the end, winds up with the real story - what really happened at that bus stop, with all kinds of context and offshoots and layers in between, all pieces dropped here and there that are yanked together tightly in the finish. That is a ham-fisted summation of what the show does brilliantly.

The book, Ten Steps to Nanette: A Memoir Situation, is similar. It starts off with the epilogue, talking about Nanette. The critical reception, who it bothered the most (quelle surprise), a bit about what life has been like for Hannah Gadsby since. From there, it goes back in time to chronicle her life, from her childhood in Tasmania through adulthood, before finally ending up back at Nanette - writing it, early performances, and finally recording it, now with so much more context behind it. Along the way, she covers relationships, abuse, trauma, history, mental illness, and more.

I don't know if I need to clarify this for anyone seeking out this book, but I will, just in case: there are plenty of very funny parts. I angry-laughed at a dad joke in a footnote within the first couple of minutes of starting. I'm still mad about it, actually. Humor is appropriately spread throughout. But haven't you heard? Hannah Gadsby ruined comedy. This book is not a laugh riot.

Picking out favorite parts is impossible - I've highlighted the eBook to bursting and don't imagine I'll be able to fully sort my thoughts until I have my hands on a physical copy, but two things I keep turning over in my mind in the meantime:

- There's a quote in the epilogue at the start of the book, in the discussion of the reactions to Nanette: "I have skills, people, I know what I am doing, even if you don't like it." Later, at the actual end of the book, we get a look at how Nanette was put together - Hannah Gadsby jokingly refers to it as magic at one point, and it almost seems like it must be. All the turning gears, the considerations for the audience and herself, how impossible it seemed to make it work and how impossible it seems that it DOES work. It's not explicitly written on the page, but it's certainly a call back to that first chapter: she has skills, people, and she knows what she's doing. Absolutely one of the most fascinating things I've ever read.

- And speaking of magic: the tone of this book stays the same throughout. These are the facts, and this is how I felt. Even if you can't always relate or fully understand (aside from being white, AFAB, and roughly the same age, I don't share much in common with Hannah Gadsby), the picture is so clearly drawn that it's impossible not to empathize. Even the least personally relatable parts of her story feel close. What feels a bit like magic, though, is when the topic shifts into something that is a shared experience - either universally (misogyny, body issues, aimlessness), or by connection to someone, or more personal (different for everyone, I suppose). The tone never changes, but it almost feels like it does. Like for one moment, she turns directly to you to say, "aren't these the facts, and isn't this how it feels?," and then goes right back to telling her own very singular, unique story. I suppose that is because she has skills, and she knows what she's doing.

- I said there were two things, that was a lie. This is a third, because I am still thinking about tone. I can imagine a hypothetical person who would take issue with the tone in this book, particularly with regard to the more confronting topics. For people expecting at least a feeble attempt at "there are two sides to every issue," it doesn't exist here. It's all in the same straightforward tone - not "this is what I think," but "this is how it is." These are the facts, and the facts are fucked. There aren't two sides to every issue, and not everything is up for debate, especially not humanity, empathy, and decency. Presented, discussed, and not an air pocket left on the page for a single gasp of "but what about" or "just to play devil's advocate" or "yes, but." You'll notice I said that I could imagine hypothetical people who would take issue with this. I loved it. It feels like something you can lean hard against. I don't imagine those hypothetical people would pick up this book in the first place.

Is this too long for a review? Absolutely. But first of all, there's no law, and second of all, it's half the size it originally was. Third of all, I haven't even managed to communicate how much I liked the book yet. Saying I liked it feels inadequate. I think it's special, but I don't know what to point at to demonstrate that to you.

I'd encourage all fans of Nanette to pick it up, but that feels too limiting - this isn't a "sudden celebrity success writes a book about that success" story. It's a story from a voice that, under anything but these wildly unique circumstances, we'd never get to hear. Queer, non-standardly female, autistic, from a small town on a small island you likely don't know a thing about. It IS special. Pick it up!

There was a brief moment when I first started reading Hannah Gadsby’s “Ten Steps to Nanette: A Memoir Situation” that I regretted not getting the audiobook. After all, Gadsby is a performer, wouldn’t it be better to listen to her perform her work? But very quickly, I put that thought to rest because soon enough — likely because I’ve watched her stand-up specials on Netflix a few times apiece — I could hear her voice in my head as I read. Her words on the page as in those specials are witty and sharp, with several amusing asides that operate in this format as footnotes.

The memoir is made up of ten sections, or “steps.” The first step, interestingly enough, is called Epilogue and covers the aftermath of Gadsby’s most well known stand-up piece “Nanette.” Though of course it makes more sense to put an epilogue at the end of a book, I suspect it’s structured this way because Gadsby knows you’re likely here because you already saw or at least heard about “Nanette,” so she’s going to get that out of the way first before recounting in mostly chronological order the experiences that informed the writing and performing of that landmark special.

Gadsby starts off “Ten Steps to Nanette” with hilarious anecdotes of celebrity encounters and charming stories about her family, moves on to poignant tales of adolescent awkwardness and loneliness, and then slowly yet steadily turns to other, heavier topics. She discusses her realization and then repression of her sexuality against the homophobic climate of Tasmania in the 1990s. She touches on physical and sexual assaults. She talks at length about injuries and her experiences with anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation. She reflects on struggling through life with undiagnosed ASD and ADHD. And while discussing all of these difficult events and circumstances, she interjects clever observations and quips.

The switch between serious reflection and funny observation can at times be jarring. But, as Gadsby mentions in this book and in her stand-up, there is no straight line through trauma. This is not simply a comedian’s personal history from youth to her seminal work. She states more than once this is not meant to be an inspirational success story. “Ten Steps to Nanette” seeks to process how societal homophobia and toxic masculinity affected and thereby helped shape an individual’s life, attempts to shine another light on the importance of mental health, and tries to deconstruct myths about neurodivergence. It moves between being funny and melancholy, pedantic and amusing, frank and rambling, rageful and wistful. This memoir is a multifaceted, complicated piece because she, like any other human, is a multifaceted, complicated person.

“Ten Steps to Nanette” is not an easy read, but it is an important and enlightening one because of the topics covered and the amount of introspection she dedicates to them. If you enjoyed the stand-up special “Nanette” or at least appreciated what she was trying to do with it, you will like this book. If you didn’t… well, you probably haven’t made it this far in my review anyway.

Thank you to NetGalley and Ballantine Books for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review. My review was posted to Goodreads on March 20, 2022: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/4578245278.

People like Hannah Gadsby don’t often get to tell their own stories. Marginalized on several fronts, staying alive was never a given, much less reaching an audience to tell her stories. Though there are many funny passages in this book, I hesitate to call it a comedic memoir. The compounding trauma of her life is very much front and center, and readers need to be prepared for that. It’s a worthwhile read about a very interesting person, but it is never easy.

I love Hannah Gadsby and it was so lovely to explore more of her life and work through this memoir. Much like her comedy, her writing is quick-witted and profound. Brilliant and beautiful. So many ideas and quotes that I will carry with me. This memoir covers a lot of heavy topics and traumas, and while every reader and reader's experience is different, I personally never struggled to get through some of the darker moments. A simple, yet powerful read.

[Review will be published on instagram.com/suesthelibrarian closer to release date. Exact wording may vary. Cover will be shared on instagram.com/suesthelibrarian and instagram.com/susannahchoate on 1/31/22.]