A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of my Father by Augusten Burroughs

() I'm usually an enthusiastic Burroughs reader, but this book was a thorough disappointment.

I trudged a little over halfway through the book until I finally let myself stop. Avoiding a book simply for the content is not okay. Yet I still pushed forward since this is by Augusten Burroughs. But as I said, I came to the conclusion that this was just not worth my time.

It's a basically a big whine about his father, and more sob stories of his adolescence. Yeah, there's a lot of comedy mixed in. Too bad it's not enough to save this load of profit-inspired garbage.

Sorry Burroughs. I'm not quite the fan I used to be.