Woods, a 30-something sex columnist for Esquire
and former correspondent for The Daily Show
, has always yearned to be a celebrity: “I've never known what it's like not to want to be famous.” Her rambling autobiography starts with a California childhood filled with acting classes and ends with a minor role in the 1990s on 7th Heaven
. En route, her stream-of-consciousness memoir is filled with descriptions of adolescent girlfriends and crushes on rock stars. Yet her brief flirtation with fame—as a booker for Johnny Depp's Viper Room—receives a scant six pages and results in a drug-fueled craving for Twinkies. After slogging through three-quarters of the book, Woods finally reveals a mildly interesting experience on The Daily Show
in 1999. But it's scant payoff. The only semipoignant note comes when she stares at photos and is saddened to discover how time and drugs have ravaged her. Unfortunately, a tiresome description of her dreams on Ambien interrupts this potentially well-structured essay. Fans of her witty Esquire
column will be disappointed by this tedious and self-indulgent collection. (July)