Meet Wendy Merrill, a quirky, attractive, in-recovery-from…well, you can pretty much name it…who, while seemingly on the quest for her perfect mate, keeps falling into manholes. After losing herself in an endless series of attachments, this serial mater comes to see how her relationships with men are emblematic of all of her relationships — with alcohol, food, drugs, family, friends and, most of all, herself.
Smart, funny and embarrassingly honest, these tales recount the common experience of looking for love in all the wrong places, and the not so common experience of finding it in yourself—and feels like talking with your best friend. Wendy represents the bad girl/good girl paradox deep within every woman, and writes what women often think but don’t have the nerve to say.
My first moment of clarity came during the holiday season, when I was giving Brad a blow job and realized that I didn’t know him well enough to know what to get him for Christmas. I thought this was ironic, but when I told him, he said, “Yes, that is a problem around the holidays, isn’t it?” My girlfriends, on the other hand, understood.
With candor, humor, and style, Falling into Manholes explores the contradictions and imperfections of being a woman, in a book about relationships, addiction, self-esteem (and the lack thereof) and going to any lengths to discover what matters. This menmoir gives the reader what we all need more of: a good laugh, an easy read, and hope.