I have a tendency to read memoirs written by celebrities, or “celebrities”, when they pop up on Overdrive — regardless of whether or not I’ve heard of the person. They usually short, fun reads and contain at least a few good stories. I probably don’t enjoy them as much when I have no outside information about the writer, but they’re usually worth the few hours it takes to read them. A strong endorsement, huh? Actually Lindsey Stirling’s memoirs, The Only Pirate at the Party, were pretty enjoyable overall. […]