Why bother crafting fiction when you can plunder your own life? Born in New Zealand, then at 12 transplanted to Australia, Bella Vendramini might have started her memoir with a variety of quirky escapades but after a slow start of depression and getting-out-of-the-country bits, Bella’s tale ratchets up. Her cousin Zoe, stunt-double for Xena, Warrior Princess, comes to life, and is the impetus for scoring castings, going places, meeting important people – like Quentin Tarantino; ‘QT’ to those in the know. Indeed, his endorsement graces the front cover: ‘Bella is the belle of the ball’, where the author, stepping across a rain-splashed gutter, casts her eyes skyward in a scraper canyon, dressed to the nines in bright red heels and a pistachio satin gown. Hers is an alluring pose and it’s easy to be drawn into her acting adventures, alcohol-addled scrapes and relationship conundrums.

Frank and uncluttered (but for the name-dropping), and full of endearing down-under brassy-brash swearing, Bella transitions from LA to the Big Apple, and starts classes at the renowned Method-acting school, the Lee Strasberg Institute. There’s a lot to learn, both under tuition, and in the domestic realm. Erudite, rich and handsome James offers his heart and wallet to help fund the course – but what price for Bella? The gamut of what you might hope to eavesdrop in or perve on can be found within the book’s pages. Vicarious pleasure is to be had, so go on, be tempted to take a bite. Hachette Livre $32.99