I had mixed emotions after reading this book. I felt it was extremely self-serving and biased, both on the part of the writer. I feel that Michael Landon, had he wanted a book written about himself, should have been respected enough to make that decision for himself. This book wallows way too much in the emotions of the writer, often seeming whiny and desperate. It also seems to be a biography of the writer herself, not only about her stepfather. "I promised my dad" -Promised your dad to write a book about elements that were best left private and sacred, or at the very least, should have had his permission to disclose? Promised him to write a book about yourself and your own misgivings? Wow. Way harsh. There were also many subtle and overt negative inferences to Michael Landon's wife Cindy, as well as her relations.
This book seems to be a poor attempt to salve regret. Michael Landon deserved much, much better. I think Michael Landon's memory would have been better served through a more professional, gracious and respectful medium than the spirit in which this book was created. This book does not seem a fitting tribute to such a fine individual, actor, director, writer, husband, father, friend and grandfather. After what we remember about this man? This book is just.... ugh.
(thanks to the reviewer who mentioned me (Kandice- my middle name) in her own review; agree unanimously with your own as well)