Wednesday, August 27, 2025

Book Review: How the Hell Did I Not Know That

By Jami Denison

A year is a meaningful structure in memoir. Writers have told of a year spent asleep, following religious edicts, traveling around the world. Years of doing less—no shopping, no sex. In her first book, humor writer Lucie Frost details everything she learned in her year from “couch to curiosity.” In How The Hell Did I Not Know That?, Frost follows every thought in her brain down rabbit holes to answer questions both profound and mundane. 

Retiring young and abruptly, Frost had big plans for herself after quitting her job as an employment lawyer in San Antonio, Texas. But instead of volunteering and making the world a better place, Frost finds herself parked on the couch and obsessed with watching 90 Day Fiance. This binge starts her down her first rabbit hole, as she seeks to discover exactly what it takes to marry someone from another country and bring them to the United States.

Fighting depression and looking for a sense of purpose, Frost decides to research various topics: word origin, religions, psychology, sports, health, etc. Her interests flow in a stream-of-consciousness manner, often prompted by something said by her husband or one of her children. While most of the book is dominated by her findings, there are occasional references to her family, their rescue dog, and Frost’s personal struggles. While the book proports to answer the question of what do we do with our lives when our jobs or children are no longer driving our decisions, it deflects that quest into research. Anyone looking for the answers to bigger questions of what makes a life meaningful might not find them here. Self-knowledge, connection with others, serving needy populations—this memoir is not that type of book. 

Frost classifies herself as a humor writer, and her breezy tone fits that description, even if her explanations are straightforward. But there were enough asides about her personal struggles—weight issues, relationship problems, EMDR therapy—that I wanted to know her, not the address of the vice president. Frost ends the book with her acknowledgements, and the last line of that note left me slack-jawed. While writers are under no obligation to bare their souls or their dirty laundry, memoirists are expected to share their most personal stories. 

Perhaps Frost’s next book will delve more deeply into her personal life, or she’ll echo writers like David Sedaris or Erma Bombeck. While she’s planning her next project, though, I do have an earnest suggestion for what she can do with all the trivia she’s amassed: Try out for Jeopardy! The educational game show has been a meaningful second act for many. 

Thanks to Kaye Publicity for the book in exchange for an honest review.

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