If you’re already a Brandi Carlile fan (I don’t think there’s any musician I’ve listened to more in the last five years), there’s an excellent chance you’ll find Broken Horses charming, funny, illuminating and poignant. If you’re not a fan, Broken Horses might well make you into one, especially now, because the book feels like the antithesis of social distancing — replete with Carlile and her identical twin collaborators Tim and Phil Hanseroth touring in vans and buses (more recently with their wives and children in tow) and performing songs they’ve written together to celebratory crowds. Carlile’s warmly colloquial tone evokes listening to stories, possibly in a bar, told by a friend who leads a life far more interesting than your own. Each mostly chronological chapter concludes with a plethora of photos, handwritten captions and song lyrics by Carlile and others.

... carries with it the same gritty honesty and self-reflection that fans find in the singer/songwriter's music.

... an exegesis of empathy: how it took root within [Carlile], the ways it's dictated her relationships, its role as the engine driving her songwriting. The same things that make her music so remarkable can be found in her prose: If you're a fan of Carlile, you already love this book.

With Sir Elton and Bernie Taupin likely having the biggest historic impact on her songwriting, it might not be a leap to imagine that the cheeky humor and conversational style of Me had at least a slight influence on the wry laugh lines that pop up with just a little less regularity in her tome, too.

Carlile’s writing reflects the same candor that listeners get when they hear her music. She uses a casual tone and often addresses readers directly, which makes the narrative feel like a conversation with a friend.

Thirty-nine may seem a little young to write a memoir, but in Carlile’s opinion no one is too young, too old or too uninteresting to write their own story.

... captivating.

Carlile has quite a story to tell.