Instead of tap dancing around the hard parts, we’re drilling into the bedrock. We hear less from Presley and more from Keough, who comes across as level headed, valiant and kind. . . . Keough approaches the episode with respectful levity, the best tool available to members of a dysfunctional family. . . . Presley still gets a word in here and there, and these passages show how determined she was to stand up to her demons.”—The New York Times

“When her actor daughter, Riley Keough, writes that she wants Lisa Marie to emerge from the pages of the memoir as a ‘three-dimensional character’, she’s not kidding . . . it’s clear that Presley was nothing if not radically honest. It’s also striking how Keough seems to almost plead with the reader to understand and love her mother as much as she does. Ultimately, this is a book built on grief: Lisa Marie Presley’s for her father and son, but also a daughter’s for her mother.”—The Guardian

“The book is of two minds: It’s an unadorned, conversational memoir that’s more matter of fact than gossipy, little interested in preserving what her father’s biographer Peter Guralnick once called ‘the dreary bondage of myth.’ And it’s a frank, almost unbearably heavy meditation on grief. . . . Stunningly candid . . . Both women write gracefully about the unbearable, immovable heaviness of grief. Keough’s portrait of her mother in her final months is especially indelible. ‘I had mistakenly thought she was so strong-minded that nothing could ever truly hobble her,’ she writes. ‘But of course it could. Enough pain can hobble anyone.’”—The Washington Post