fiction ruined my family by jeanne darst

it is true
it has been awhile
since a book has made me feel uncomfortable

not because of the content
not because of the words

darst's presentation and choice of words is striking.
i never questioned her talent.
it is pure. raw. oozing out of each page.

it is her life, her gusto, her view of the world
that shook me.

not that i am complaining.
after all, a good book should move you.
should force you into introspection.
into the parts of your psyche that you may or may not be ready to visit.

darst lives this semi-charmed life
the life of an artist
in which, she is always unsure of the future
broke
and seemingly lost in a capitalistic world that cannot understand her reasoning.

she believes she inherited this life from her father, also an artist of sorts.
a writer.
who has been writing his first project for years.
darst's enfance, adolescence and adulthood are soaked in this project.
it affects her and her siblings, three sisters, in ways that no one could predict.

and, like her mother, darst was an alcoholic.

alas, we have ourselves a tale of family, inheritance, pain, addiction and following your passion.
even when others cannot. a tale lined with wit and humour. a tale that will grab you instantly.

darsts recollection of her life, her mother's death, her father's guilt and the brilliance of the "project" that seems to encompass every list bit of their relationship is moving.

read it.
i promise that you will not be able to put it down.

so, please, step into darst's semi-charmed life.