While I read this book I kept thinking it would be so cringeworthy to have a memoir written with you as a character in it. You'd be reading it and your toes would curl and your hands would grip the book really, really hard, because it would be very uncomfortable. And at times I felt bad for Sam and Amy. They were in a very vulnerable position throughout this book as young parents in a rocky relationship, and I don't know how anybody would come off very well if a book was written about them in that situation.
Anne Lamott's writing can't be faulted except it is almost too pretty and poetic and flowery. All of her friends and even her son are (portrayed as) very eloquent, which felt unrealistic. It makes everyone feel very much like a stock character full of wisdom rather than an actual person somebody might interact with.
I didn't mind the God stuff very much. She gets across her own beliefs pretty well and doesn't do too much slamming of others. I guess her hippieness contributes to that.
My other problem with the book was it felt very thrown-together. It didn't feel like an actual journal. It felt very much like she and Sam intended to write this book from the very beginning, but they didn't commit very much to structuring it, so it ended up being a tossed-together jumble of "interviews," emails, a travel diary, and a little bit of journaling.