I don’t go to church very often. But here I am, in this big Cathedral, praying for my safety.
I was the only survivor.
These writers, musicians, and artists know how to draw a crowd – even in death.
It always begins with a little tremor. For a split second the ground seems to fall out from underneath me like a trap door.
My son is now 11. Each of his years has brought with it certain delights and challenges.
“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by.”
“Do you know what a little America is?” Kyle uttered the first words either of us had spoken since we had left San Francisco five hours ago.
What I want you to know and what I want you to see is what happens on the other side of that precipice, beyond the clouds, beyond setbacks and holdups, beyond the obstacles and pain.
In this compelling and heartfelt memoir, writer Molly McAleer chronicles the discovery of her father’s addiction and subsequent death, how true love saved her life and how she kind of sort of got tricked into going to rehab. She knows you’ll probably never believe her side of the story, so she also interviews friends, ex-friends, and her acupuncturist about her history of substance abuse, flailing through her twenties and what kind of person she really is.
It’s a story about us.