I picked this up from my library's Lucky Day shelf and thought "Oh, I dig Burroughs. Can't wait to read his latest snarkful memoir!" This is NOT a snarkful memoir. This is what it says on the front cover, a self-help book. My heart sank as I realized this, but I figured I'd wade in anyway in the interests of a snarkful review. Ha. The only self-described self-help books I've ever liked have been by [a:Byron Katie|6374|Byron Katie|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1209392514p2/6374.jpg]. The rest are useless, warm and fuzzy and in my opinion at least, totally worthless. This book by Burroughs is not useless. Oh, I'm sure at least part of the reason I dug it so much is because much of it sounded like what I say to people who ask me for advice- but it's more than that. It's bleak, it's realistic, it's cauterizing, and it's clean. And helpful. Did I mention helpful? Yeah.If you like your truth served up stark and caustic, this is the book for you. If you want to hear about how worthwhile you are, how you can do anything if you just dream big enough, how love conquers all, you should stay the hell away.Wavering between 4 & 5 stars. Probably going to buy this and hand it out liberally to teenagers I love. ETA: This is the gom jabbar of self-help books.