First, I'd like to say how very much I enjoy reading your particular corner of blogdom. You get karma points for the service you're providing, I'm sure.
Enough toadying, here's my question:
Are agents even considering addiction memoirs right now, given the big fat Frey debacle? Are they (and you) just passing them and the potential shit-storms that come with them over? Or does an honest, well-written account of junkie-hood still stand a chance, if its facts can be verified (or absolutely NOT, as the case may be)?
Thanks in advance.
Well, I'm just the worst person to ask cause I hate addiction memoirs. Really loathe them. This is of course not a comment on your work specifically cause I haven't read it, but in general, I turn these down with just the most cursory read through of the first page.
The impetus to write addiction memoir is laudable: "I went through hell, here's what I learned, maybe it can help you too."
Trouble is, once you've read Jerry Stahl, Stephen Elliot (oops, that's not a memoir, that's a NOVEL) and Augusten Burroughs (and this one is too, ok ok), not to mention William Burroughs, is there really anything new to say? We know you lived, we know you're sadder and wiser, ya ya ya.
There's a new book coming from Little, Brown in the fall called "The Real Animal House", by Chris Miller and it's a memoir by a guy who was in the movie. Now THAT is something I'd read cause I loved the movie, haven't read much about the making of it, and it's bound to be funny. Junkies barfing in the the toilet or turning tricks for cash, just can't compare to "can we dance with your dates" and Dean Wormer, no matter how well written.