100 books like Terry

Sent to me by a dear friend just when I needed it, this delightfully cheeky book about writing gave me the push to be courageous and truthful both in life and in my written endeavors.

Full of candid advice, hilarious anecdotes, and helpful information, this book is half manual and half a memoir of Lammott’s escapades in authorship. It speaks directly to the part of us that holds our deepest stories and silently longs to make them into something useful, beautiful, and meaningful–whether or not we plan to share them with the world. 

I loved reading this book before it became tainted by fact checkers. That being said, it remains a fascinating, raw, and gripping read. His use of language as falls deeper and deeper into becoming hooked is similar to being a storm chaser. He can’t help himself chasing the highs, knowing full well the low may be the last one. “I want a drink. I want fifty drinks. I want a bottle of the purest, strongest, most destructive, most poisonous alcohol on Earth. I want fifty bottles of it. I want crack, dirty and yellow and filled with formaldehyde. I want a pile of powder meth, five hundred hits of acid, a garbage bag filled with mushrooms, a tube of glue bigger than a truck, a pool of gas large enough to drown in. I want something anything whatever however as much as I can.”

If there ever were… show more.

“If only.” Sheff‘s book about his meth-addicted son dives deep into the “if only” agonies of parents who question their every action, wondering what they could have done differently, or said (or not said) in a different way to help their children avoid the horrors of drug addiction. I asked the same questions in my book, The Only Life I Could Save, and I came to the same terrifying conclusion: We cannot make the choice of life or death for our children.

My favorite lines: “I am in a silent war against an enemy as pernicious and omnipresent as Evil . . . only Satan himself could have designed a disease that has self-deception as a symptom, so that its victims deny they are afflicted, and will not seek treatment, and will vilify those on the outside who see what’s happening.”

This is another book I read before I ever dreamed it might apply to me.

Caroline describes her experience with anorexia, alcoholism, and intimacy issues while working as a journalist in a way that I found incredibly compelling. And when I realized I had the same problems, I found her writing incredibly comforting as well.

I’m so sad that she ended up passing away from lung cancer way too young, but I’m so happy she left us this memoir.

As quirky and atmospheric as the family it portrays, Booth is a brilliant ensemble piece about the family of Lincoln’s assassin, John Wilkes Booth.

Beautifully and bravely written in omniscient point of view, it weaves the lives of this eccentric family together into a comprehendible whole. If you ever longed for ‘the rest of the story’, this is it. I have my fingers crossed for a sequel – or at least another amazing book from one of my favorite writers.

As the daughter of an alcoholic, I took enough college psychology classes to know I was part of an unchosen cycle, at risk to continue the family chaos.

Despite my resistance, my personal, unanticipated, troubled behavior did emerge, baffling me, and this book was exactly what I needed to sort things out, especially when I became a parent and feared contaminating my children.

Reading about negative, senseless, and too-familiar family habits of concealment, disparagement, anger, pain, and especially the role-playing coping mechanisms that commonly develop in a dysfunctional family, gave me hope.

Family hero, scapegoat, quiet one, mascot, all of these I recognized clearly. By learning, understanding, and erasing the blame, I could redefine normal and finally “crawl out of the trap.”

Therapist Beverly Berg offers tools for the partners of recovering addicts, who often struggle with reestablishing trust, closeness, and compatibility.

Employing strategies of mindfulness, attachment theory, and neurobiology, Berg helps readers rebuild emotional stability with partners, improve communication, lay boundaries, and take tangible steps toward reigniting intimacy. 

Much of the book's material is drawn from Berg's successful Conscious Couples Recovery Workshop, which is as close to a roadmap as I feel exists for partners trying to move forward post-addiction. Berg has over three decades in her field, and the exercises she adapts to this narrative effectively address common issues faced by couples in recovery.

Whereas my book lays out the gory personal details and gut punches, Berg brings a well-explained, semi-prescriptive approach to an oft-ignored topic.

Adele Parks was already accomplished at writing entertaining women’s lit well before she turned to psychological thrillers so the style is engaging and accessible. It feels like you’re reading the confessions of an old friend. This book has a great plot too, it has more twists than you can shake a stick at. I consider myself good at figuring out what’s coming, but not with this one. The pace is fast, the storytelling keeps you hooked, and you won’t see the bends in the road until it’s too late.

I chose this quietly devastating first novel by Susan Minot because it is a delicate family story, thought to be based on her own childhood of growing up as one of seven children. When it came out, many of her siblings became upset with her portrayal of events; a few even wrote their own novels with their version of what they perceived as “the truth”. My own sister stopped speaking to me when I sent her my first memoir to read. She eventually came around, and told me she was glad I’d told our story. I believe that the truth is not a solid, but a liquid. Truth is personal—it’s what we see, assume or believe filtered through our own lens and experience. 

This book is more autobiographical, based on his struggle with alcoholism. Berryman had already written a book of poems, The Dream Songs (my favorite book of poems), which practically reads like a novel. It’s full of wit and playfulness and jerry-rigged syntax. Recovery is also witty but not quite as playful. It’s darker, of course. Perhaps one’s perception of it is colored by the knowledge that Berryman had committed suicide in 1972, a year before its release. So, it’s a melancholy book, yet its difficulties are human and common and, here, well-wrought by a poet’s grace.