A Wolf at the Table

I used to love Augusten Burroughs. I'm not sure who has changed, me or him, but I disliked this book. First: so many scenes were familiar. Like, I wasn't sure if I'd read it before or not—turns out there's just a lot of rehashing from Dry and Running With Scissors.

Everything seemed trite and overwrought. I wasn't as compelled, and it felt like this book lost his typical humor as well.

Beyond that, as a nonfiction writer, I was really struck by my lack of trust in him as a narrator. Lots of hypotheticals and imaginings that made the narrative less potent as I questioned what was reality.