After reading Running With Scissors, I found I needed to read every subsequent memoir written by Burroughs. Too many questions left unanswered, or perhaps I found the characters populating his life story compelling. It's a good idea he divvied up his chaotic life into five memoirs--I've been told I should divide mine into five or ten (not that I can compare). This one bridges his past with his life as a copywriter in New York City and reads like a series of essays. His mother continues her psychotic slide and he tries dubious means of coping with life. Burroughs writes with his usual pathos and humor, but the pacing of each chapter begins to feel the same--always the ta-da line at the end, the epiphany, the joke. But, being a Burroughs' admirer, I read every essay down to the last punchline and enjoyed the experience.