The most recommended books about alcoholism

In this collection of short and very short stories, the characters are anything but heroic.

They have unwanted pregnancies, alcohol and drug problems, dysfunctional romances, horrible jobs, no jobs, glorious aspirations, and inglorious resolutions. Hemmingson writes short, plain sentences reminiscent of Carver and Hemingway – but with little macho bluster and much sensitivity. The revelation of this collection is its humor.

Despite the travails detailed in each narrative, the stories are funny, sometimes hilarious, reminding the reader that life in all its imperfections is mysteriously beautiful.

 This was the first book I ever read that had me rooting for the Orc. With their lack of discipline, drug, and alcohol use, and loyalty to their comrades it’s easy to imagine them standing at the bar having a pint. Along with the action, there are some deeper issues delved into, including religious fanaticism and racism. For me personally, this really spoke of how exciting it can be to throw character roles in reverse. 

You can’t stay married if you’re dead. Don’t die. Read this book. 

There’s a reason TIME Magazine included the central text of the world’s most prolific recovery organization on its list of Best 100 Nonfiction Books of All Time: the book that gave AA its name likely has saved more lives than any other singular narrative in the past century.

AA not really for you? Reading Alcoholics Anonymous does not mean joining Alcoholics Anonymous. The themes co-authors Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith discuss – and the Twelve Steps of Recovery in particular – have near-universal relevance to anyone attempting to break the grip of alcohol or drugs.

More than eight decades after its publication, the book offers timeless truths that captivate addicts via ironclad identification. 

The characters in this novel-in-stories are so vivid, you almost flinch at the intimacy and truth of which they speak. There is the sense of a curtain being drawn back to reveal this poignant account of a 70-year marriage that begins during World War Two. Here we have Harry, with the heart of a poet, who is a contrast to Evelyn, tough, and at times acerbic. Though it is Harry that most readers will probably warm to, Evelyn, with her difficult background—an alcoholic father and enabling mother—has had challenges that make her hold herself to a higher standard and therefore makes for a complex character. Inevitably her headstrong nature may be judged more harshly than if these were traits assigned to a man. The writing is lyrical with a precision that marks Kathy Page’s work. Whatever you think about the characters, you will doubtless be affected by their lives as… show more.

He describes the death of his partner from alcoholism and the events leading up to it in an unflinchingly honest and moving way. It's raw and personal but that's what grief is. It's beautiful and respectful and shows how grief is both a shared experience and so completely individual at the same time. 

I’d read about the demise of Bill Clegg, the handsome, superstar New York agent who struggled with alcoholism and crack addiction, and I held my breath while I devoured his memoir about his harrowing quest to complete 90 sober days.

The specifics of his raw and beautifully written story convey the universal truth that recovery from any challenge is not a straight line. Relapses happen, sometimes to the people who are throwing out the lifelines.

Among other things, this is a narrative about the healing and redemptive properties of connection, community, and storytelling. So much wisdom and humility in this brave and vital book.  

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.”

This book is about a mom of three (and a former party girl) who started an anonymous blog about giving up alcohol. It documents her first year with hope and humor. It's great for anyone who is looking for a relatable read. It also comes highly recommended by a number of websites, reviews and readers, with a large fan base.

Karr's memoir diverges from my other recommendations insofar as it’s a memoir and features just one woman’s voice.

I found this book while living in Madrid over a decade ago and remember sneaking out into the living room late at night to read it. Karr is a master storyteller and a master memoirist – highly relatable even if you’ve never struggled with alcoholism. 

Any book by the magnificent Carrie Fisher could be on my list. I love them all. This novel covers the difficult territories of drug abuse, failed marriages, and manic depression yet Fisher’s trademark biting wit and razor-sharp observational skills give us lines like this: Doris Mann was a famous fifties movie icon whose three failed marriages had left her publicly humiliated, bankrupted, and bankrupted again. "Anyway, think of it this way; we've had every kind of man in this family. We've had horse thieves and alcoholics and one-man bands and singers—but this is our first homosexual!" She punctuated her congratulatory speech with raised eyebrows and trademark grin and outflung arms.

After 30 years of counseling and 1000s of people in bondage to various sexual behaviors, I take a minority view, and do not believe that addiction, and sexual addiction in particular, is a disease; it is a bondage to sin. This book, I believe helps supports that view. I find in counseling, that when you deal with the sin problem as sin, not just a behavior problem, which is a symptom of sin, lives are radically changed. I could give hundreds of examples, but one that stands out was a sexual predator who seduced 100s of women, but after a radical heart change, his marriage survived and he went on to minister and help others, rather than to continue to use others.

This book came out in 1996, six years after I got sober. It was the first memoir I read about alcohol abuse and the title and subtitle were the things that immediately grabbed my attention. For 25 years, I was in love with the way drinking made me feel (or better yet, not feel), so I knew I would like this book. And even though, at the time, Knapp’s credentials were way out of my league, I related to so much of her story. Like going to a meeting, it made me feel less alone. 

One alcoholic helping another is the way the 12 Step program works.

This book explores Steps 6 and 7 from the personal experiences of others in recovery. It helped me examine my defects, you know, the rocks I held that were sinking me. But I am not alone in my quest to drop these rocks.

This book includes personal stories that let me know how others have overcome the same roadblocks as myself. They talk to me, addressing my need to spiritually surrender my shortcomings. Various insights help contribute to my sobriety which, after all, is what I strive for in a clean and sober life.

Oh my gosh, there’s a brilliant chapter in this memoir about a friend divorce that I’ve reread about a dozen times.

With ruthless honesty, Jarrell describes the deep intimacy of her relationship with her best friend from college and her role in sabotaging it. She compares her flaws to those of her father who "swam darkly in his own alcoholic brew.” And yet, despite the rawness of Jarrell’s story, this book beams out hope and light.

While the author ended up marrying an alcoholic, she did “get away” or escape her family legacy. She even credits addiction, or maybe learning to manage it, with putting her and her husband “on a path to saving themselves.”  

The thing I love about this book is that the reader is hooked from the start by a thrilling mystery as Kate starts investigating the secrets hidden within a seemingly perfect family; but at the same time, you’re also drawn into Kate’s struggles with her past. As you discover the unspeakable tragedy that Kate is attempting to shut out through alcoholism and by spending her weekends taking voyeuristic visits through open homes for sale – which she has no intention of buying; you slowly realise that you’re experiencing an unreliable view of the world, which means you start to doubt everything you read, in the same way that Kate is doubting everything she sees.

Bad boy, Tim, has struggled with drinking and now is a member of AA and is trying to start his life over. He and my character, Christopher, could attend AA meetings together and I am always happy to find a young adult character who is a reformed bad boy and trying to stay sober with AA and this story does not disappoint. 

Ruth Jones is a new author for me but she packs a punch with this family saga and story of four generations and their relationships.

I particularly identified with the matriarch and grandma (not that I am one!) in this, Grace, who is the all- seeing and all-knowing thread that knits the other family members together.

Told in mainly present day, the novel also time-slips back to the 60s to give another angle on the family dynamic – and dysfunction. One of the most outré of all the characters is Alys, a recovering alcoholic but some of the situations Jones has put her in will have you laughing.

I also love the minor character Soozi. Just read it to see what I mean.

Inspired by the works of Thomas Wolfe, Conroy’s autobiographical novel begins after his high school years, with flashbacks to earlier days as it leads toward the end of each of his parent’s lives.

Once a brutal alcoholic, his ex-military father remains verbally abusive but allows a viable relationship with Conroy, the eldest son, while the mother fantasizes relentlessly. As adults, Conroy and his six siblings try to make sense of the negative repercussions they endure from their chaotic, unstable childhood.

I appreciated Conroy’s sincerity, especially when he witnesses another one of his novels being made into a movie and realizes he is watching art in its creation. “It was so powerful in its purity and its sheer honesty that it shook me, terrified me. But it changed me. That is what art always does.”

This book is also a semi-autobiographical and painful exploration of a writer’s addiction to alcohol.  It is the story of a talented writer, Don Birnam. Birnam lives in a rundown neighborhood in Manhattan and is praised for his realism in his writing but he drinks to numb himself to his struggle with his homosexual feelings. The novel follows him on a five-day binge as he uses all kinds of ingenuity to get a bottle of rye to sustain him. He contemplates murdering his selfless, dedicated girlfriend’s maid to get a key to a liquor cabinet. He bangs his head in frustration and winds up in an ‘alcoholic ward.’ Enjoying quoting Shakespeare and confident as a writer, his worst enemy is not a blank page but the need to drink. It was adapted into a brilliant film.

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.