Early this week, I opened an envelope that had arrived at my door to find inside Lena Dunham’s new book, Not that Kind of Girl. I love getting free books in the mail, I admire Dunham’s television show, "Girls," and I'm a big fan of her movie, Tiny Furniture. I should have been curious and excited to read her book.
Instead, I felt a nearly incapacitating exhaustion. I could barely bring myself to open its cover, so paralyzed was I by the feeling that once I did, I would be responsible for feeling something important, defining, or culture-shaping about this attractively designed, 264-page collection of essays and personal advice from a young writer, actor and television creator.