What To Be When I Grow Up

So at these slightly intoxicating Crossroads of my life, that I have somewhat very unprolifically arrived at by splitting with the Boy I loved, decided Australia isn't for me right now and unceremoniously losing a Job I didn't love so much I am fantacising about being a Writer. Amongst Chef, Photographer, Designer, all the really achievable stuff.

Don't get too worried about me, that Paragraph made things sound Bad which they are not, they are fun and good but working out you really have no finite idea of what you want to do with your life is a confronting thing. Especially when you thought you had it all planned out, not scary planned out with Goals, but some kind of idea. I have been in an Office since I left School and have done 2 Years of an MBA only to discover I don't really like Offices that much and I would rather die than get a job in Finance or Resources. I know what I want but I also have no idea.

So the Writer thing has been a constant in my life, writing was my strength at School, at Uni, I loved doing it and got good grades. It's not like I want to write a Novel, I don't think I could commit my life to something so uncertain, but I would love to be a Journalist. Actually Love might be an Overstatement, I would Love to be writing for Vogue or Gourmet Traveller with a Massive Expense Account, Free Clothes, Trips to the New York and Paris shows, a Ten Figure Salary and a beautiful apartment overlooking the Seine from Saint Germaine.

Unfortunately for me the ins and outs of real Journalism are not so glamorous, I used to write for a few local Publications, some of which I parted from Amicably, some of which I parted from in a shroud of controversy and Record Labels trying to Sue for Defamation, but I did thoroughly enjoy it. I got to interview MIA, Akil and Charli 2na, Vinnie Paz, Slug from Atmosphere and Talib Kweli to name a few. It was a nice way to meet the people whose Music you admired, which was also a very sharply double edged Sword when you found out they were Douche Bags.

So whilst I enjoy it the Pay is pretty terrible, the Industry full of wankers, Deadlines kill me and I hate them and again, the Pay really can be quite Terrible. But writing is fun, which brings me to the part where I thank Hayley for letting me write stuff on the Internet. Thank You.

So now that I have a Soapbox and a suitable introduction as to why I am Unemployed and writing Book reviews for a Blog at 12.09am lets talk about Augusten Boroughs.

Augusten Boroughs made the New York Times Bestseller list with his debut Sellevision, which I have not yet read as it is Fiction and I generally don't get that into Fiction as my brain knows its not real and tends to think it is stupid for this reason. Overthinking can be a real Handicap sometimes.



However my love of Biographies led me to Running With Scissors quite some time ago, which in a similar vain to James Freys' A Million Little Pieces is a Memoir of his completely insane life. His Alcoholic father left his failed Poet Mother, who was rather medicated and eccentric to begin with, who inturn sent Augusten to live with her Psychiatrist who she was sleeping with or who was drugging her depending on how you read it, in what could be described as a Squat. His mother eventually fled the Psychiatrist after Augusten had basically been raised by their fucked up family, where he was Sexually abused by his newly acquired Older Brother, to become a Lesbian with a partner that was not so nice to her Son.

Its certainly not a Novel for the faint of stomach, or heart for that matter as it really does convey how disgraceful the Human Race is when you strip away iPod commercials and Toothpaste. It is the Burbs at their absolute American worst but his writing is Compelling. Whilst it may rely a little to heavily on Shock and Damage, he is undoubtedly a fantastic writer and an incredibly Vapid human being, which when coupled makes for compulsive reading.



Running with Scissors leaves at his escape as an 18 Year Old for NYC, Dry picks up some years later and details his problems with Alcoholism during his 20's, his experiences in 28 Days at a Gay Rehab centre, the Death of his Best Friend/Ex Lover and basically trying to stay Sober in New York when you work in Advertising.

I wasn't sure Dry would live up to Scissors but it was just as fantastic. Well written with a strong story it it raw, honest insanity in its most attractive form.



However I have just finished (literally a few hours ago) Magical Thinking, entitled such under the concept that Magical Thinking explains people who believe they have Control over the Universe and that they are much more related to the incidents that occur to them than they actually are. I liked this Premise, I am a sucker for some Damage and Insanity so I picked it up and unlike the others its taken me a while to read. Mainly because I really didn't like it and only continued out of Morbid Curiosity. It is a 'collection' of stories as opposed to a Memoir but its like reading a Summary version of Scissors and Dry where he repeats many incidents that occurred in those books, in summary form and then glazes over random stories that have happened to him in his life that details how Vapid he actually is. It was cute when there was a story, a start a middle and an end, but aimlessly wandering through his Thirties, when there really weren't the Milestones of his Teens and Twenties, I found somewhat Lazy. Particularly when the being mean to Young Children and Taking Steroids to get Pecs stories made way for Rants about Love and his Partner, whilst I appreciate the sentiment Reading about how the thing that keeps us in Relationships is the Fear of losing the other person and how he would rather die first and arrange a substitute for his Loved one just confused me, when we had spent a Novel detailing random stories and flaws.

So I'm not going to go as far as to say Don't read it, read it if you are interested in his work, you can have my copy. But it was a let down and I have since found out he has released another two, which I hope are Fictional because as far as I am concerned he is out of Self Deprecating remarks and Horror Stories about his Childhood. He is becoming another Boring fuck up that gets paid too much to write Books, self indulgent a la Bret Easton Ellis writing all 7 Million Pages of Glamorama. But Easton Ellis is another can of worms to be opened on another day, I hope you enjoyed what is sure to become a regular Book Review injection on Mayoress.