While
David Carr is best known as a media reporter for the New York Times he
may soon be better known as the author of one of the most compelling
memoirs about a life of drug use.
There has been a spate of popular memoirs, most famously by Augusten Burroughs and James Frey, about drug use but this book is much better than those for three basic reasons:
First, he approaches his own life story as he would a regular news story, complete with interviews with family and friends to find out what really happened versus what he remembers.
Second, he avoids playing the blame game where the author blames others for their drug use. He takes the blame and responsibility for his own actions and inactions, describing himself doing some truly disturbing, irresponsible things.
Third, he not only admits his own memory is faulty and that the real truth, if such a thing exists, may never be known but he published on a Web site details of his arrests and legal problems. Whether this was done to avoid those questioning his story or to help others is less interesting than the extent he has gone to move this story from the traditional memoir which is often only as solid and believeable as the narrator to more like a traditional non-fiction book complete with sourcing.
The New York Times magazine published an excerpt from the book here.
I want to quote one paragraph I was particularly taken with:
David:I wrote it because I thought I'd be good at it. I've done a lot of cops and robbers reporting earlier in my career, have a sense of the Life and the vernacular that goes with it. beyond that, I tried drinking after 14 years sober and i was interesting in the exploring the kind of forgetting that put me in the place. I thought that by going back and reporting the story, I could bring some verisimilitude and a bit of journalistic drama to a genre that has been ubiquitous, but sometimes not all the satisfying.
Have you by chance read Jonathan Segura's novel, Occupational Hazards? I ask because I'm reading both of your books at the same time and the book by Segura - deputy fiction reviews editor for Publisher's Weekly - almost seems like a fictional version of yours (total coincidence), to wit a newspaper reporter working while doing enough drugs on the side to stun a horse.
I have not read Jonathan's book, although I am familiar with his excellent critical writing. The book that had the most influence on me while I was writing was "Another @!$%# Night in Suck City." Nick Flynn's memoir of keeping his world from colliding with his fathers has an absence of bathos and a romance with words that inspired me constantly.
Did your approach to this book change in response to the James Frey controversy (and smaller ones asking questions about books by Augusten Burroughs?
I sit in the culture department of the New York Times, right next to the folks who cover books and osmotically, it was tough not to absorb some of the tacit lessons that were taking place a few feet away. That said, both Mr. Frey and Mr. Burroughs have things to say that people want to read and a way of writing that connects with audiences. But I'm probably not the guy who is going to have a long conversation with himself and come up with something remarkable. My day job as a reporter and columnist for the New York Times requires me to report deeply on the things that I write about and that reflex did not go away just because I was writing a book.
Do you think any memoir can actually be completely true?
No.
Or is truth as elusive a goal for a memoirist as complete objectivity for a reporter?
Yes. All stories change in the telling, pivot around the interests of the narrator and fail to fully account for all the motivations and complexity that human interactions are comprised of.
Are you concerned about any repercussions from telling this story, i.e. any damage to your credibility?
Not really. Most of the events described took place two decades ago and I have a track record as a reporter and a journalist that has done a good job about getting it right. This is mostly a story about a young reporter who tipped over into addiction and came back to raise a family, run newspapers and do many, many stories. It is not in anyway a story about journalistic mis or malfeasance.
I wrote an interview about two years ago with the author of a book called News Junkie. In the book and interview the authors mentioned he thought he'd get more sympathy from he, like you, had a drug problem. I left that out of the interview because your info wasn't yet public. But do you know what I'm talking about and can you address it? The interview in question was here
Yeah, I know what and who you are talking about, but how is my history as an addict supposed to change my opinion of what is authentic journalism and what is made up? The prism of addiction might explain what happened, but it hardly excuses it. I was the editor of the Washington City Paper in Washington DC and we covered Marion Barry. Was I supposed to give him a bye because we once both had problems with cocaine? I don't think so.
How have people you worked with reacted to this book? I'm assuming you confessed some things that wasn't common knowledge in the New York Times news room? Did you let newspaper executives or prior bosses read it and vet it before you published it?
I gave it my boss, Sam Sifton, who gave it to his bosses - Bill Keller, John Geddes and Jill Abramson. They read it, they did not vet it, and seemed to think that in its execution that it reflected the values of the institution. They have had nice things to say personally since and I think it is safe to assume from the significant play it got in the magazine in the form of an excerpt that people at my shop thought it was a worthy exercise. I'm sure I will get the hairy eyeball from somebody in the elevator, but my friends are still my friends and I like to think that I am well-regarded as someone who can do the job we all have in common.
Why did you guys decide to set up the web site complete with legal documents? Was that in case some questioned parts of your story?
No. I do a lot of reporting on all kinds of platforms and the site is a reflection of those interests. The website, www.nightofthegun.com is not a comprehensive data base, but a separate digital media product that does storytelling in the form of videos, documents, timelines and pictures. The availability of cheap, ubiquitous technology means that many non-fiction writers, not just me, are going to be coming to their publishers with a lot of data and Simon and Schuster was open-minded enough to fund a site that gave my book a kind of verisimilitude and transparency that makes gives it added heft.
In The New York Times own review of your book Bruce Handy said the book suffered from a bit of flatness: Do you want to respond to that criticism?
I was thrilled by the time and attention the book review gave it. Mr. Handy entered the book, gave a serious look around and came up with a mixed review. (He compared me favorably to Balsac, who I believe was a talented right winger for the Montreal Canadians.) The flatness he refers to derives from the chronicity of addiction - the same activity repeated for days on end. It was something that I wrote about in the book - "a frantic kind of boring" is what I called it.
But as a critical and reader take, it was not a common response. People told me they either had to put it down after a few pages or that they could not put it down even when they tried, but I have not heard much about flatness. As a first time book writer who received a lot of attention from the book review, including being named one of its editor's picks and getting a wonderful review from Pete Hamill in the daily culture report, I don't have a lot to complain about.
Yes, I had fantasies, common ones I think for newbies like me, about getting raved on Sunday for my transgressive this and that, but after piles of acclaim from the New Yorker, EW, Atlantic, Harpers, the New York Observer, the WSJ and a heap of daily papers, I'm willing to call it more than even. And Mr. Handy did say I was a good reporter, both in my job and in my book, which is very important to me.
There has been a spate of popular memoirs, most famously by Augusten Burroughs and James Frey, about drug use but this book is much better than those for three basic reasons:
First, he approaches his own life story as he would a regular news story, complete with interviews with family and friends to find out what really happened versus what he remembers.
Second, he avoids playing the blame game where the author blames others for their drug use. He takes the blame and responsibility for his own actions and inactions, describing himself doing some truly disturbing, irresponsible things.
Third, he not only admits his own memory is faulty and that the real truth, if such a thing exists, may never be known but he published on a Web site details of his arrests and legal problems. Whether this was done to avoid those questioning his story or to help others is less interesting than the extent he has gone to move this story from the traditional memoir which is often only as solid and believeable as the narrator to more like a traditional non-fiction book complete with sourcing.
The New York Times magazine published an excerpt from the book here.
I want to quote one paragraph I was particularly taken with:
Mornings for an addict involve waking up in a room where everything implicates him. There is the tipped-over bottle, the smashed phone, the bright midday light coming through the rip in the shade that says another day has started without you. Drunks and addicts tend to build nests out of the detritus of their misbegotten lives.Scott:Why did you decide to tell this story?
It is that ecosystem, all there for the inventorying within 20 seconds of waking, which tends to make addiction a serial matter. Apart from the progression of the disease, if you wake up in that kind of hell, you might start looking for something to take the edge off... to help you reframe your little disaster area. Hmmm, just a second here. A little hair of the dog. Yep. Now, that's better. Everything is new again."
David:I wrote it because I thought I'd be good at it. I've done a lot of cops and robbers reporting earlier in my career, have a sense of the Life and the vernacular that goes with it. beyond that, I tried drinking after 14 years sober and i was interesting in the exploring the kind of forgetting that put me in the place. I thought that by going back and reporting the story, I could bring some verisimilitude and a bit of journalistic drama to a genre that has been ubiquitous, but sometimes not all the satisfying.
Have you by chance read Jonathan Segura's novel, Occupational Hazards? I ask because I'm reading both of your books at the same time and the book by Segura - deputy fiction reviews editor for Publisher's Weekly - almost seems like a fictional version of yours (total coincidence), to wit a newspaper reporter working while doing enough drugs on the side to stun a horse.
I have not read Jonathan's book, although I am familiar with his excellent critical writing. The book that had the most influence on me while I was writing was "Another @!$%# Night in Suck City." Nick Flynn's memoir of keeping his world from colliding with his fathers has an absence of bathos and a romance with words that inspired me constantly.
Did your approach to this book change in response to the James Frey controversy (and smaller ones asking questions about books by Augusten Burroughs?
I sit in the culture department of the New York Times, right next to the folks who cover books and osmotically, it was tough not to absorb some of the tacit lessons that were taking place a few feet away. That said, both Mr. Frey and Mr. Burroughs have things to say that people want to read and a way of writing that connects with audiences. But I'm probably not the guy who is going to have a long conversation with himself and come up with something remarkable. My day job as a reporter and columnist for the New York Times requires me to report deeply on the things that I write about and that reflex did not go away just because I was writing a book.
Do you think any memoir can actually be completely true?
No.
Or is truth as elusive a goal for a memoirist as complete objectivity for a reporter?
Yes. All stories change in the telling, pivot around the interests of the narrator and fail to fully account for all the motivations and complexity that human interactions are comprised of.
Are you concerned about any repercussions from telling this story, i.e. any damage to your credibility?
Not really. Most of the events described took place two decades ago and I have a track record as a reporter and a journalist that has done a good job about getting it right. This is mostly a story about a young reporter who tipped over into addiction and came back to raise a family, run newspapers and do many, many stories. It is not in anyway a story about journalistic mis or malfeasance.
I wrote an interview about two years ago with the author of a book called News Junkie. In the book and interview the authors mentioned he thought he'd get more sympathy from he, like you, had a drug problem. I left that out of the interview because your info wasn't yet public. But do you know what I'm talking about and can you address it? The interview in question was here
Yeah, I know what and who you are talking about, but how is my history as an addict supposed to change my opinion of what is authentic journalism and what is made up? The prism of addiction might explain what happened, but it hardly excuses it. I was the editor of the Washington City Paper in Washington DC and we covered Marion Barry. Was I supposed to give him a bye because we once both had problems with cocaine? I don't think so.
How have people you worked with reacted to this book? I'm assuming you confessed some things that wasn't common knowledge in the New York Times news room? Did you let newspaper executives or prior bosses read it and vet it before you published it?
I gave it my boss, Sam Sifton, who gave it to his bosses - Bill Keller, John Geddes and Jill Abramson. They read it, they did not vet it, and seemed to think that in its execution that it reflected the values of the institution. They have had nice things to say personally since and I think it is safe to assume from the significant play it got in the magazine in the form of an excerpt that people at my shop thought it was a worthy exercise. I'm sure I will get the hairy eyeball from somebody in the elevator, but my friends are still my friends and I like to think that I am well-regarded as someone who can do the job we all have in common.
Why did you guys decide to set up the web site complete with legal documents? Was that in case some questioned parts of your story?
No. I do a lot of reporting on all kinds of platforms and the site is a reflection of those interests. The website, www.nightofthegun.com is not a comprehensive data base, but a separate digital media product that does storytelling in the form of videos, documents, timelines and pictures. The availability of cheap, ubiquitous technology means that many non-fiction writers, not just me, are going to be coming to their publishers with a lot of data and Simon and Schuster was open-minded enough to fund a site that gave my book a kind of verisimilitude and transparency that makes gives it added heft.
In The New York Times own review of your book Bruce Handy said the book suffered from a bit of flatness: Do you want to respond to that criticism?
I was thrilled by the time and attention the book review gave it. Mr. Handy entered the book, gave a serious look around and came up with a mixed review. (He compared me favorably to Balsac, who I believe was a talented right winger for the Montreal Canadians.) The flatness he refers to derives from the chronicity of addiction - the same activity repeated for days on end. It was something that I wrote about in the book - "a frantic kind of boring" is what I called it.
But as a critical and reader take, it was not a common response. People told me they either had to put it down after a few pages or that they could not put it down even when they tried, but I have not heard much about flatness. As a first time book writer who received a lot of attention from the book review, including being named one of its editor's picks and getting a wonderful review from Pete Hamill in the daily culture report, I don't have a lot to complain about.
Yes, I had fantasies, common ones I think for newbies like me, about getting raved on Sunday for my transgressive this and that, but after piles of acclaim from the New Yorker, EW, Atlantic, Harpers, the New York Observer, the WSJ and a heap of daily papers, I'm willing to call it more than even. And Mr. Handy did say I was a good reporter, both in my job and in my book, which is very important to me.
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