I was triggered. I was struck to my core — all kinds of overripe feelings and neglected memories shook loose — by Mary Laura Philpott, or more precisely, by her new masterwork, Bomb Shelter.

With Bomb Shelter, billed as a memoir in essays, Philpott brings us a beautifully wrought ode to life.

Philpott’s greatest gift as a writer is her ability to tell a story as if she is simply sharing the events of her day with a friend. A master of the timely digression, she is as skilled at handling painful subjects as she is offering hilarious glimpses inside her life and mind, and she often intersperses the two with great effect.

Philpott’s latest is a memoir of beautifully written, loosely linked essays in which she frankly and often humorously details the pitfalls of her anxiety.

Bomb Shelter is full of laugh-out-loud moments as Philpott weaves her recollections of growing up with present-day observations about her children’s adolescence. However, she is equally gifted in delivering heartbreaking moments.

Philpott’s greatest gift as a writer is her ability to tell a story as if she is simply sharing the events of her day with a friend. A master of the timely digression, she is as skilled at handling painful subjects as she is offering hilarious glimpses inside her life and mind, and she often intersperses the two with great effect.

Amusingly fretful.

These essays detail different parts of her life; many of them return to the day of the seizure, but there are tales of humor and heart even in relation to crisis.

Philpott explores life’s pleasures and uncertainties in this wry if meandering collection of essays.

The author returns with her trademark blend of crippling anxiety and determined optimism.