I think I read almost all of Beverly Cleary's books as a child, but I never knew she wrote her autobiography (and this is the first book -- she also wrote a follow-up). I really enjoyed this book and found myself making time to sit down and read. Read that sentence as "I really enjoyed this book and put housework to the side for an hour so I could read instead."
Cleary adds detail to her memoir and makes it very easy to imagine her life, although she doesn't overburden the reader with details --- there's something very honest and clear about her writing, including a true warmth in her tone, that made reading this book really great. Growing up during the Great Depression in Oregon, Cleary describes life as only child, her love of her early years on a farm, and even her difficulties in learning to read.
Sometimes, what she writes about is a little heartbreaking. Her parents were not always loving and life was sometimes difficult. However, there's never a feeling of "poor me" in this book. She relates her life plainly, never shrinking from details that may be unhappy.
I had read an essay about this book, which is what made me seek it out (along with her followup memoir), and now I'm finding I want to re-read some of her books, including Ellen Tebbits and Henry Huggins.
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