"The Pony Problem" is just one example of how Crosley's dark humor creates an engaging and unique look at life. In "Bring-Your-Machete-To-Work Day," Crosley's inner child and "awkward" transition into teenager left her abusing her favorite computer game Oregon Trail by naming all of her characters after people she knew, and then watching them suffer: "Eventually a message would pop up in the middle of the screen, framed in a neat box: MRS. ROSS HAS DIED OF DYSENTERY. This filled me with glee."

In "You On A Stick," Crosley also re-visits her childhood through her "best" friend's wedding, and her sardonic inner monologue reveals the friendship as a complete fraud, but one that works well for the wedding cameras. Of course, Crosley lets us know the truth, that being maid of honor is a chore that's not worth the brouhaha: "'Horror is a six-letter word. So is 'fuck me.'"

Throughout the collection, language is used to great effect, and Crosley's clever word play portrays otherwise mundane events in an original way. In "Lay Like Broccoli," Crosley defends her vegetarian diet by "[keeping] a set of (vegetable) stock answers at my disposal for all queries about my diet," and in "Smell This," Crosley discovers an unpleasant object on her bathroom floor after a party, and tries to deduce who left the surprise: "Jesus, she's got shit on her floor."

I Was Told There'd Be Cake is an excellent start for a writer who has spent most of her career surrounded by books (she also works as a publicist for Vintage/Anchor books), and it certainly suggests that Crosley has more to come. The collection is both a wonderful read and an excellent critique of the suburban upbringing. Crosley's Web site also provides an interesting extension to the book, and adds a level of multimedia output that sets her writing ahead of many of her predecessors. Overall, I Was Told There'd Be Cake won't take long to read and will have you laughing the whole time.