I remember reading The Fear of Flying back in 1973. I was a junior in high school. By then, I had attended 11 years of Catholic school and was adamantly rebelling against it all. Erica’s book was like a support group for the repressed. Who could forget “the zipless fuck”?! Molly’s account of her mother’s inability to cope with no longer being famous is heartbreaking, especially how she was unable to really engage authentically with her only child. Fame can be a very slippery slope.