The Snow Leopard, published in 1978, is considered a modern classic. It recounts his 1972 journey deep into the heart of the Himalayas in search of the elusive Asian snow leopard—and also in search of himself. A brilliant mixture of nature writing, cultural journalism and spiritual seeking, this is a book to read and reread. With so many memoirs centered on hard times and family dysfunction, it’s a sheer delight to encounter Patricia Volk’s quirky, loving, exuberant restaurant family. Volk’s great-grandfather introduced pastrami to America in 1888; her dad remained in the restaurant business in New York until 1988.

Even the second time around I found it so viscerally powerful that at times I was overwhelmed. It was every bit as gruelling and heartbreaking as the truth required it to be. And I can’t think of a better compliment to a writer of addiction memoir – or, indeed, any writer – than that. Sabeeha Rehman and her husband came to New York from Pakistan more than 40 years ago, following their arranged marriage (which became a beautiful love story). The culture shock was intense, but Rehman, a devout Muslim, found ways to maintain her faith while befriending a wide array of neighbors and loving the country she now calls home.

Memoirs About Alcoholism

Reading her book is like sharing a cup of coffee with your wise best friend. She’s brilliant in writing and shares many actionable tips and strategies. For the next 13 years, Spears was “told what to eat, what medication best alcoholic memoirs to take, when she could see her children”, even when she could and couldn’t use the lavatory. Meanwhile, her father “paid himself a $6m salary” from the proceeds of her endless concerts and recordings.

But, growing up with an alcoholic mother, my most common mode of escape as a child was in fiction. Before I was old enough to simply walk out of the house and literally escape, I hid inside my room and read entire afternoons away, happily lost. Authored by addiction professionals, Beyond Addiction illustrates how people can use positive reinforcement, behavior strategies, and kindness to help their loved ones achieve sobriety. Pairing insights on treatment options and how to navigate the rehab system, content is designed to not only help someone change but also prompt them to want to change.

Quit Like a Woman: The Radical Choice to Not Drink in a Culture Obsessed with Alcohol by Holly Whitaker

Didion adapted the book to a Broadway play, and it toured the world in various forms for nearly a decade. Margo Jefferson grew up among the Black elite, where everyone distanced themselves from white people but also from Black people not in their community. Negroland is her take on race, sex, and American culture in a world full of contradictions.

• What was meant to be a positive and happy change led to depression, which she self-medicated with drinking, eventually consuming over a bottle of wine a day.
• Amid a public outcry, McDougall suggests, Williams resorted to taking amphetamine pills and Valium, “prescribed by Wilson’s doctor”, which contributed to the “hysterical outbursts” for which she became known.
• A biography of Johnson has long been overdue – and this one is “meticulous”.
• In and out of rehab, he falls into relapse, engaging in toxic relationships and other self-destructive behaviors that threaten to undo the hard-won progress he’s made.
• Although I think they can all be considered addiction memoirs, and share a familial resemblance with other examples of that form, none of them feel remotely imprisoned by its conventions.
• Prozac Nation is one of the most influential memoirs about mental illness, often credited as one of the first modern memoirs in the wide-ranging genre we know today.

The various accidental similarities between these books began, before long, to harden into a blueprint, which countless books have faithfully reproduced. Most are forgettable and forgotten, but some accomplished authors—like Caroline Knapp and Sarah Hepola—have created very good books by bringing real skill to the standard formula. Although previous literary history had portrayed a number of addicts, only a very small number could be found outside fiction—although some well known examples were only fictional in a nominal sense. The eponymous hero of novel John Barleycorn (1913) is really its author, Jack London. Don Birnam in The Lost Weekend (1944) is really its creator, Charles R. Jackson. One hint that the author and protagonist of A Fan’s Notes (1968) are really the same person is that they are both called Frederick Exley.