...[an] engaging, conversational, passionate biography ... Fans of traditional biographies might balk at O’Meara’s candid style and observations, but there’s never a dull moment in this beautiful, heartfelt tribute to a pioneering special-effects designer and animator and passionate call for change in the industry that forgot her.
[An] engaging and compelling, if uneven, book ... Like Patrick and many other women, O’Meara has her own experiences of being harassed, abused and treated contemptuously by men in the film industry. Still, her book could use less of the author’s own rage and occasional fangirl gushing, however well deserved, and more about its subject ... Patrick died in 1998, at age 82, largely forgotten except for a coterie of devoted fans. O’Meara has seen to it that she won’t be forgotten again. Her book is a fierce and often very funny guide to the distaff side of geekdom.
... chatty, impassioned ... There's so much great material here — including Patrick's childhood at Hearst Castle and her early career as one of Disney's first female animators — that [Milicent Patrick's] own life story could be a film. O'Meara is a dogged researcher and a fierce partisan (she even sports a tattoo of Patrick and the Creature on her left forearm), but I must warn readers that this book should be rated 'O' for 'Ohmigod, where was an editor?' O'Meara's prose is bogged down in lame jokes and Wikipedia-level historical context. Still, I think it's worth putting up with these transgressions for Patrick's story, which, as O'Meara points out, has resonances for today, when women in Hollywood still find themselves in the company of monsters.