I've seen the author on social media making out like he's the next Bukowski, but what's odd about his writing is that it has none of Bukowski's traits. as there isn't anything intrinsically bad about this book, it's just not all that it cracks itself up to be. Bukowski tended to veer towards a style of wr Was wondering whether to this this a 2 or a 2.5 (if that were possible) but feel bad giving more low key and independent writers low ratings when it's entirely based on a subjective response. Was wondering whether to this this a 2 or a 2.5 (if that were possible) but feel bad giving more low key and independent writers low ratings when it's entirely based on a subjective response. But I can assure you as a BDSM enthusiast…I never wonder how did I get here ). To do something for yourself and only yourself. The floaty, free feeling isn’t easily obtained and for people with addictive personalities/behaviors it can certainly be that aha! moment. How easy it is to escape all the pressures of life and every expectation/demand…let it all clip away. In a way, it’s a form of revolt, of dissent. There is a naïve power in taking control of your own mortality, commandeering the wheel and deciding your own death in the face of its inevitability. “What was the matter was I had just been discharged from the hospital after sustaining a prolonged and inefficient four-day manic episode after upping the dose on my Lamictal. I want the record to show that this was as per instructions by, and under the supervision of, a licensed mental health professional. His many soliloquies on display-the dancing with one’s own demons for us to peruse for a while. I do my taxes.” Crooked Smile reads like a hilariously cheeky journal. In his highly personal and confessional style, Jack Moody’s brutally honest and scathingly witty autobiographical debut novel follows the hero’s journey of a man hurtling into the depths of addiction, mental illness, and self-destruction, while wrestling with his survival instinct and self-awareness that his journey will-inevitably soon, with his shield or on it-come to an end.moreĬrooked Smile reads like a hilariously cheeky journal.
Two events force Henry to look inward and face the disturbing truths left to fester for so many years, drenched in booze, but always staring up at him from the bottom of a whiskey bottle: during his darkest hour he receives an offer that threatens to change the trajectory of his life forever-and a mental diagnosis that, in Henry's mind, makes him more monster than man. Over a chaotic two-year blur, he stumbles through inebriated nihilism strengthened with each self-destructive act, reveling in an unending parade of violence, blackouts, half-hearted AA meetings, psych ward stints, dangerous sexual encounters, suicidal behavior, and shattered relationships. His liver is failing, and with each drink his chances of living past age thirty crumble around him. Over a chaotic two-year blur, he stumbles through inebriated nihilism strengthened with each self-destructive act, reveling in an unending parade of violence, blackouts, half-hearted AA meetings, psych ward stints, dangerous sexual encounters Henry Gallagher is going to die.
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