Kamala Harris’s latest memoir, 107 Days, has landed on bookshelves with all the anticipation—and scrutiny—that accompanies a political figure of her stature. Published on September 23, 2025, the book offers a day-by-day account of her whirlwind 2024 presidential campaign, beginning with the moment President Joe Biden withdrew from the race and ending on Election Day. In the weeks since its release, Harris has embarked on a media blitz to promote the memoir, offering Americans a rare, if sometimes awkward, glimpse behind the curtain of her campaign and personal life.
According to San Francisco Chronicle, Harris’s memoir serves a dual purpose: it’s both a campaign postmortem and a personal journal, blending boilerplate political messaging with candid admissions and vivid, sometimes quirky, personal details. The book is structured as a series of short chapters, each corresponding to a single day of her campaign, giving readers a sense of urgency and the relentless pace of modern politics.
One of the book’s most revealing anecdotes occurs during Harris’s preparation for the September 2024 debate against Donald Trump. As reported by Washington Free Beacon, Harris took five days off the campaign trail to “hunker down” in a luxury hotel, practicing on an exact replica of the ABC News debate set. She describes herself in the memoir as “not a trained seal” who merely memorizes lines, but as someone who must “understand the logic and building blocks of every argument so I can present it clearly and defend it persuasively.” In her own words: “I am not a trained seal; I'm not going to memorize lines and spout them. I have to understand the logic and building blocks of every argument so I can present it clearly and defend it persuasively.”
Yet, the results of this intense preparation were mixed at best. Harris’s first major televised interview, which took place on CNN nearly six weeks after Biden’s withdrawal, was widely criticized. During the interview, she made a false claim about never having supported a fracking ban and gave a muddled response about the Green New Deal, saying, “I have always believed, and I have worked on it, that the climate crisis is real, that it is an urgent matter to which we should apply metrics that include holding ourselves to deadlines around time.” Such statements, critics argue, did little to clarify her positions or reassure voters of her command of the issues.
The memoir doesn’t shy away from Harris’s struggles with public speaking and the media. She recounts a formative moment from her early days as a prosecutor, when she became confused about directions while presenting a case and was chastised by the judge. “I have been conditioned by my career to weigh my every word,” Harris writes, acknowledging the pressure—and perhaps the hesitancy—that has characterized many of her public appearances. The Washington Free Beacon notes that Harris’s own admission of being “conditioned” is not far from being “trained,” a point that is not lost on her critics.
Harris’s campaign, as detailed in 107 Days, was marked by both personal and professional challenges. The book reveals moments of vulnerability, such as her resentment toward her husband, Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff, for not planning anything special for her birthday during the campaign—even as he was already campaigning for her. The chapter is meant to illustrate the toll that exhaustion took on their marriage, but as the San Francisco Chronicle observes, it also paints Harris as someone still learning to balance personal expectations with political realities.
There are lighter moments, too. Harris describes her fondness for the “comfy Uggs” she kept on Air Force Two and how, after a particularly stressful night of interviewing potential vice-presidential picks, she found solace in making a pot roast. The book is peppered with these relatable, if sometimes trivial, details—like her team handing her Doritos during debate prep, which made her feel “like being handed a doggy treat.”
Strategic decisions are also laid bare. Harris chose Minnesota Governor Tim Walz as her running mate over Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, believing Shapiro might be frustrated by the limitations of the vice-presidential role. “A vice president is not a copresident,” she bluntly told Shapiro, according to the memoir. This decision, and her reasoning behind it, offers a window into her leadership style and her understanding of political hierarchy.
The campaign’s challenges extended beyond the internal. Harris writes about the difficulties of responding to Trump’s attacks, including campaign ads that declared, “Kamala is for they/them. President Trump is for you.” In hindsight, she muses that her response should have been, “The pronoun that matters is ‘we.’” She also reflects on the delicate balance she tried to maintain with Biden, resisting calls to criticize him more harshly despite his low approval ratings. Harris explains that she felt an obligation to remain loyal, as they still had to work together in high-stakes situations.
Despite her efforts to project thoughtfulness and authenticity, Harris’s media appearances often fell flat. According to Washington Free Beacon, former Biden aides “watched in horror” as Harris struggled with pre-rehearsed answers, sometimes flubbing lines she had practiced in advance. Her penchant for relying on memorized talking points was evident in a series of interviews she gave in September 2025 to promote her book. In one, she declared, “We cannot let an election or an individual ever rob us of the light that we carry inside of us. We cannot let anyone dim our light. And let us continue like we did those 107 days—and we will always do—[to] see the light in each other and let that guide us through the kinds of moments of darkness that we're experiencing right now.” Similar variations of this message appeared in interviews on The View and Good Morning America, prompting some to question whether her rhetoric was more style than substance.
The memoir also offers a glimpse into Harris’s complicated relationship with the Biden administration. She recounts receiving a scolding call from Biden just before her debate with Trump and repeatedly expresses frustration with the limited opportunities she was given as vice president. Yet, she maintains a nuanced view of Biden’s fitness to govern, even as she laments the challenges she faced within his orbit.
As San Francisco Chronicle points out, 107 Days is as much about mourning a lost campaign as it is about envisioning a different political future. The memoir invites readers to reflect on the broader challenges facing the Democratic Party, particularly the difficulty of communicating nuance and self-critique in an era dominated by Trump’s “us vs. them” rhetoric. Harris’s willingness to share both her strengths and her shortcomings may not have provided a blueprint for victory, but it does offer a rare look at the human side of political ambition.
Harris is set to continue her public reflection with a book event at the Masonic in San Francisco on October 5, 2025, where supporters and critics alike will have the chance to engage with her story firsthand. Whether 107 Days succeeds as a roadmap for future leaders remains to be seen, but it unquestionably adds another chapter to the ongoing conversation about authenticity, leadership, and the ever-evolving landscape of American politics.
