Ten bucks says “The Dorm Room Diet” will turn up in your mom’s next care package. (Moms, don’t get us wrong, we love the care packages, but there is no dearth of books here.)

Author Daphne Oz, a junior at Princeton University, serves up a neat summary of every piece of health advice you’ve ever received since age two. Specifically aimed at college students who are grappling with typical college lifestyle adjustments, Oz offers advice not only for diet and exercise, but enlightening suggestions as to how to increase your happiness. “Go with what your inner Coco Chanel tells you,” she says.

While “The Dorm Room Diet” does offer a good dose of college-focused health suggestions—such as dorm exercises specific to our cozy quarters—there is nothing earth shattering about Oz’s advice. Take, for example, Oz’s approach to combatting those heavy eyelids that hit during mid-afternoon: “If you find yourself falling asleep in class, ask to go to the bathroom and then do a few jumping jacks and stretches in the hallway to get the blood flowing throughout your body.” And if, after reading the chapter “Step Three, Get Started: Healthy Eating 101,” you feel that you have forgotten some of Oz’s useful suggestions, fear not for they will be repeated again and again, and eventually it will stick in your head that fruits and vegetables are good for your body.

The book begins with Oz’s own weight loss success story, and then examines reasons for the notorious “freshman 15.” Oz is quick to assure readers, however, that she herself actually lost 10 pounds during her freshman year.

Almost as a disclaimer, Oz throws in a scary story of a young woman’s battle with an eating disorder. While quite serious and genuine, the story loses its effect when Oz stresses counting calories on later pages.

As a fan of the “Why French Women Don’t Get Fat” phenomenon, I embrace the moderation factor of healthy eating. So does Oz, as she truly emphasizes keeping a balanced diet and avoiding total deprivation of treats. Wisely, she notes that this austerity will only result in stronger cravings, leading to depressing binges. Her explanation of the pitfalls of low or no carbohydrate dieting is specifically timely; her clear analysis of trendy diets and focus on balance are the book’s strongest assets. Recognizing that many college students are on limited monetary budgets helps Oz relate to readers, but she lacks inventive suggestions. “Eating at the cafeteria can save you money, big time,” she writes—but that’s because we already paid for it.

At least the book is not hard to follow; I wish my sourcebook read this easily. Save your highlighters for the literature tome, as Oz highlights her own ideas for you in concise, bullet-pointed orange boxes.

Unfortunately, the book’s scope is too narrow. According to Oz, one could “mention the words ‘freshman fifteen’ to any red-blooded female and watch a shudder run up her spine.” But are women really the only ones gaining weight in college? I think not, and Oz does little to address the needs of male students. College life presents novel freedoms that are so exciting, dietary balance is often left out of the equation for men and women alike.

Not only is this presumed reaction to the term “freshman 15” an egregious generalization, I’d like to think Harvard freshmen are confident enough to maneuver through the silver troughs of Annenberg with a sound conscience.

Oz’s content caters specifically to a college-age audience, but the conversational tone and juvenile literary devices would be appealing to your younger siblings as well. For example, I am still wondering why it was necessary to personify the body’s immune system as “Bob”: “If Bob is weak, you are ill more often, more seriously, and for more time,” Oz explains.

Save it for the illustrated copy, please.

The Dorm Room Diet
By Daphne Oz
Newmarket
Out Now