Synopsis: I used to write the truth, then smooth it out, tone it down, and try to make it plausible. Then my ex made a convincing case against chronicling my life as a train wreck. She claimed my time would be better spent trying to write about who I want to become. "Write myself a destiny." She said it because she wanted me to become happy . . . Fuck happiness. Happiness writes white. It does not show up on the page. First I think I have to excise my past. No amount of liquor or drugs seems to get rid of the ghosts that haunt me. The ghosts have become buddies with the monkey on my back. I think the monkey might have substance abuse issues himself. Even if I did manage to chase away my demons there might nothing left over . . . If a better me is the goal, maybe I should consider exercise and eating right, or even eating solid food in general before tackling a novel. On second thought . . . where to begin?
Thoughts: DISCLOSURE: I received a copy of this book from the publisher in return for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions which follow are entirely my own.
While I liked the IDEA of this book, based on the synopsis, I have to say that the REALITY of it was very disappointing. I'm thinking it would have been better kept as the author's personal journal rather than subjecting the rest of the world to this drivel.
The language was raw and vulgar, but I tried not to let that influence my opinion on the actual writing. However, it was so disjointed and "stream of consciousness" in some places that it just never felt professional to me.
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