Why the new book image on the homepage?
My book is going south. It just got published in Australia/New Zealand, and on March 6th it will be released in the US. The cover you see now is the US version. The Australian version, which features my addicted brain as a moth-infested lightbulb, can be seen on the “Buy” page. Who is that fellow, and what’s his problem?!
Interviews and reviews are gearing up again. I’m starting to get calls from reporters, columnists, reviewers, and producers for radio and TV shows, and I’m going on a US book tour in two weeks. All very exciting…and weird. I’ll keep you posted as to the reception.
Meanwhile, if you’ve got anything to say about the book (and it doesn’t have to all be positive), please consider writing a “customer review” for Amazon.com (not Amazon.ca). That will help spread the buzz southward.
I am drafting my glowing review and will let you know when it’s posted to Amazon.com, GoodReads, books.Google, Ohio Libraries Suggestions and my own personal XIX site and blog. Doing my part to get the good work out Captain!
Thanks very much, China. You seem to achieve what you set out to do, so I’m looking forward to the barrage.
Congratulations Marc on the US/South release! I’m sure a huge wave of consciousness-rising will sweep across these countries. I’m excited to see the amount of people who will be taking part in our discussions! It will be good to get an even broader scope of addiction than the scope provided by the current readers of the blog.
Thanks, Daniel. And I totally agree. The blog has really become my favourite pastime lately — the dialogue gets richer by the week.
At first I thought the blog was supposed to advertise the book. Now I see it the other way around!
Hi Marc,
I prefer the Australian cover – but I’m biased because I read that version. I have now finished the book and really enjoyed it. It gave me some amazing insights, not only into myself and humanity in general, but also into the world of drug addiction. As a scientist and a health professional, I really appreciated the scientific approach to the memoir. I also commend you on your amazing recovery.
On that note, I have one small criticism of the book (and this is common to a lot of memoirs). You spend a lot of time describing, in painful detail, your demise. And then your recovery takes, like, a chapter. It seems as though it was as simple as “I decided to stop and I did”. Maybe it really does happen like that – for reasons no neuroscientist, psychologist, recovered addict can explain. I would like to hear more about the process of recovery for people. Once as a younger, and sillier, person, I read a memoir that was similar. The message that I took out of it was that the answer can be found at rock bottom. I then made a conscientious effort to find rock bottom – assuming that the secret to recovery would then present itself to me. As you can imagine, this didn’t happen.
Is it really as simple as the way you (and people who have recovered from other problems) make it seem?
P.s. This isn’t really a criticism – more of an effort to understand. Perhaps it is simply a case of people want to read about the car crash, not about how the emergency services co-ordinate their recovery operation…if you know what I mean.
Lauren
Hi Lauren,
First, thanks for your kind words. Second, please consider commenting on Amazon.com, if you can from Australia, and feel free to include your criticism.
Your point seems legitimate. I just saw a review of the book in the Wall Street Journal (!!) as of this morning (see Press page). The reviewer made exactly the same point. So there’s got to be something to it.
Frankly, I struggled with this issue quite a bit in finishing the book. The description of my recovery does seem brief, and yet there didn’t seem to be any point (either literary or informational) in drawing it out further.
I see that period of my life — only a few months in duration — as a pivot point. In a previous post, I described a pivot point (tipping point) that comes when you lose self-control and dive for the drugs. This takes place in a matter of minutes. But tipping points happen at the scale of development (months and years) too, and this was such a point in my life. I didn’t really know that I was “recovered” or “recovering” for several months, because I could only know that through the passage of time from last use. But mostly the real action took place for me on that one single day. And I did try to give a blow-by-blow account of that day: of how my internal dialogue changed — and it really did change quite dramatically.
Although I agree with you that it may be silly to TRY for rock bottom, I do think that people often start to bounce up when they finally get there. That was the case for me. So I tried to bring the book to a climax by describing how very bad things finally became. And then, there really did seem only one direction left to go, and that was UP.
Yet I know that’s not always the case. Many people don’t bounce back up — or they stay at “rock bottom” for years first.
I still don’t know exactly how it works or even exactly how it worked for me. As I said last post, people seem to recover in a huge variety of ways. That’s the best I can do for now.
Marc & Lauren: Funny, but I thought the book describes periods of time when you were sober, trying to stay clean, but eventually sucumbing again. I was viewing those periods as that drawn out stretch of self discovery, where one begins to come to terms with their situation, but can’t quite figure out how to stay clean.
Recovery is kind of like building a bridge across a chasm, one tries and fails, tries and fails, but each try extends the bridge a little closer to the other side. Some people fall off the bridge into the chasm, others get close enough to the other side to believe they can make that leap…..
So, I didn’t see your recovery as a simple thing, I saw it coming throughout the book, with one chapter describing that final leap….. That’s kind of the way it worked for me too. Just like real life, I guess.
Peter
Oh yes, I posted a review on amazon.com too. Congratulations, you’re world wide now.
That is a very interesting perspective. I haven’t thought about it exactly that way, and it’s complicated. Each success of a few weeks or months does build confidence, and expresses a deep-felt resolve, but each failure piles up more shame and hopelessness, which can sabotage progress. So the bridge does get built, bit by bit, but the rough edges, the naked steel girders at the drop-off point, don’t necessarily welcome you back for ongoing construction. So some people drop into the chasm, as you say.
I have to think about it more, but I love the analogy, and it rings true. The construction of the book felt exactly like that for me.
And thanks for all the support. (bridges do like support)
I love the bridge analogy too!
And it does fit with the “suddenly recovered” phenomenon. The process of building the bridge sometimes doesn’t feel like recovery because there is still no way to reach the other side of the chasm, and the threat of falling is ever-present. Then one day, you put in the last girder and step onto the other side.
Yes, exactly! Many people (e.g., interviewers) have asked me how I quit so “suddenly” –and sometimes they are quite suspicious. In a way, it was sudden. I was more surprised than anyone, perhaps, that I COULD DO IT. Indeed, the last girder fit into place…and it HELD. And within a couple of weeks I began to feel tremendous relief.
Yet it was both sudden and painstakingly gradual…. In fact “gradual” is not the right word. More like “unending”. I tried so hard for so long in so many different ways. Perhaps my failures brought on increasing resolve, perhaps unconsciously. But the resolve must have accumulated somewhere, in some underground reservoir, because it remained inaccessible to me for long stretches too. And/or….I learned things along the way. Things like the 11th commandment: Avoid Temptation. This may have been like building a skill — even though the skill was not complete…until it was. Like swimming or something, you’re not there until you’re all the way there. Being half a swimmer doesn’t work.
This constructive aspect is what seems to resonate best with the bridge metaphor.
eagerly awaiting my hard copy to arrive at my front door step down here in Aus – looking forward to the read!
good luck Marc, esp as the publicity really kicks into gear
cheers,
scott
Thanks, Scott. I just saw a picture of my book on the display shelf of the Sidney Airport, sent by a friend visiting there. I’m glad it’s taking off so nicely in Australia!
Sorry! I mean “Sydney” airport.
Hi Marc,
Have almost finished your book (Australian version) – read it in one go almost – fantastic, double edged insight from addict/specialist perspective – some of your descriptions of how certain drugs affect dopamine/serotonin etc, seem to resonate with me in terms of mental health issues (manic/depression) and how a ‘high’ and sexual/people seeking/exhuberance/confidence/etc can filter/’come on’ quite quickly, as does its opposite – depression, black thoughts, paranoia etc – your work gave me some insight into what is going on inside my brain without drugs playing any role – have you thought of working with someone who can explain, as you did from the addict’s perspective, what is going on in their world, as their brain chemicals seeth, froth, connect and create waves of desire, energy and their opposites? Rachael –
Hi Rachael. Thanks for your comment. I’m delighted that the book grabbed you that way. I think of mental health issues — other than addiction — all the time. I still swing with depression sometimes. It’s just a part of life for me. Although I don’t get the highs associated with mania… Is that a rip-off? Anyway, depression fascinates me, partly because there seem to be many roads leading to it — self-directed anger, loss of goals, rejection by others, etc — yet once you get there it’s a very singular place. A very uniform state, despite the variety of entry points. Anyway, just to say that yes, I’m interested in applying a neuroscience perspective to depression among other things. There is work being done in this area, and I try to keep up with it.
Take care. Maybe I’ll run into you on my Australian book tour, next month.