Memoir Short Takes: The Art of Recovery  

Most of this month's memoirists had to give something up—alcohol, anger, food, or dreams of the way life should be. Their stories range over topics like fear of life-threatening disease to how to refine oneself without alcohol. The mere absence of something created the opportunity for great storytelling as well as thought-provoking writing. Give it up for this month's writers!

Frankel, Valerie. It's Not Hard To Hate You. St Martin's. Sept. 2011. c.256p. ISBN 9780312609788. $24.95. MEMOIR
Magazine journalist and chick-lit author Frankel (Thin Is the New Happy) gathers all of the things that have irked her over the years and presents them in this impressive litany of efforts she has taken to manage her submerged but ever-present anger in "healthier" ways. Mother problems, weight issues, widowhood, bitchy neighbors, health scares-she's had them all and hated it all. Now, she's letting the world know.
What I'm Telling My Friends Frankel could sustain an epic level of annoyance over even trivial things. While the vitriol may be therapeutic for her, only the sturdiest readers in search of recovery advice will find this a serious road map for their own trip back to a life less fraught.

Gillies, Isabel. A Years and Six Seconds: A Love Story. Voice. Aug. 2011. c.256p. ISBN 9781401341626. $21.99. MEMOIR
Popular memoirist Gillies follows up her record of the implosion of her marriage, Happens Every Day, with an account of the first year after it all went to hell. The tension of moving into her parents' New York apartment with her two young sons and the challenge of re-creating a life full of love are the main themes. Gillies, a self-proclaimed "drama mama," recounts her tale of second chances with the same enthusiasm employed in Happens.
What I'm Telling My Friends Gillies's discussion of the steps she took to remedy the overly emotional aspects of her personality will engage readers beyond those in search of simple happy endings. It is heartening that she never gave up.

Limburg, Joanne. The Woman Who Thought Too Much: A Memoir. Atlantic Bks. 2011. c.326p. ISBN 9781848871748. pap. $17.95. MEMOIR
British poet Limburg was fearless until obsessive-compulsive disorder took over. Her many compulsions were accompanied by anxiety, fear, and depression, plus a resistance to years of therapy and medication. Her struggles to understand and manage her demons form the backbone of this weighty memoir, which borrows extensively from psychiatric literature. The rest of the work is a beautifully drawn self-portrait of a woman in a fight with her own chemistry. It will offer several points of encouragement to recovery-minded readers.
What I'm Telling My Friends Limburg writes from a place of pain and hard-sought knowledge. The many excerpts and restatements of the professional literature weigh down the narrative, but Limburg fought hard to figure out what her deal was, so it works. Read the whole book.

Reiner, Jon. The Man Who Couldn't Eat. Gallery: S. & S. Sept. 2011. c.320p. ISBN 9781439192467. $25. MEMOIR
The months during which "foodie" Reiner was not allowed to eat anything by mouth, in a last-ditch effort to preserve his guts from the gruesome ravages of Crohn's disease, seem to last for years in this memoir of illness and food obsession. Memories of childhood meals, family holidays, and dreams of French cafes haunt him as his condition haunts the rest of his family. Reiner recounts his halting steps back to a peaceful coexistence with his disease in very human terms, not all entirely flattering to him.
What I'm Telling My Friends Reiner's condition starved everyone in his family: some actually, some figuratively. This is a blood-and-guts memoir, plain and simple, for those who find solace in the "misery memoir."

Scoblic, Sacha Z. Unwasted: My Lush Sobriety. Citadel: Kensington. Jul. 2011. c.240p. ISBN 9780806534299. pap. $14.95. MEMOIR
Fear that a boring life would begin when her hard-drinking life ended nagged at journalist Scoblic. Luckily for her, this wasn't the case, and she kept her edge-as well as her dignity-when she got sober. The only missteps here might be the comedic chapter endings-fictionalized accounts of various scenarios in which it would be OK for her to drink again, e.g., to save Earth from alien invasion.
What I'm Telling My Friends Scoblic wrestles with many aspects of recovery, especially the concept of a "higher power." Her humanist resolution of that quandary is affecting and provides a little reminder that we should all have each other's backs.