This book purports to be a memoir, but it reads like explicit accounts of BDSM sex with boring bits of the writer's (main character's?) life in between to prove that she's really normal. OK, she's normal. Boring even. But the thing that I would expect from what is supposedly a real memoir would be a bit more about negotiation, a bit more interesting introspection, a bit more, oh I don't know, personal growth? self-reflection? I suppose what in a fiction book would be just saying the main character is boring, here damns the author herself. Shallow.