Friday's Mark with Marni Mann

I'm so happy to welcome today's Friday's Mark blogger: Marni Mann, the talented author of Memoirs Aren't Fairytales, a book that shines a light on a worldwide epidemic as a means of offering hope to those impacted by it. In today's post, she offers up a blend of her own insight and excerpts from her novel.

I'm sure you'll find her novel as gripping as Marni is charming, so at the end of the post, I've included all the information you'll need to find out more about Marni and to find her debut novel, Memoirs Aren't Fairytales.

~Heather

Heroin leaves a mark on its victims. Whether it's track marks that scar a junkie's arms, the windowless hole they fall into, or nightmares from when they were using. While in the midst of their addiction, an addict isn't living. Breathing, eating, sleeping, yes. But when something claims your mind, when you can't function without that drug inside you, spend every hour of the day searching, ingesting, or being high, that isn't living. That's a disease.

I had convinced myself I could stop using, like dope was something simple like chocolate. But heroin was my air. It had a hold of me like we were chained together. And those shackles weren't just around my wrists, they were tied around my brain too. Once that powder was injected, I forgot about the puking, diarrhea, sweats, chills, and all the fun I used to have before dope, like none of it had ever happened. At the end of the high, all I could think about was getting my next fix.

The rush and the nod weren't the only things I was addicted to. It was scoring the dope and riding home on the train, knowing those bags were in my purse. It was dumping the powder onto the spoon and watching it turn to liquid. It was taking the orange cap off the rig and filling it. It was seeing the flash—my blood creeping into the chamber—and emptying the chamber into my vein. I'd fallen in love with the steady rhythm of working, buying, and shooting.

The realities and risks are as dark as their drug of choice. There are no limits. There's nothing that will stop them. Words won't be heard. Tears won't be noticed. Money is just a means, a pathway, and it will be found no matter what the addict has to sacrifice, steal, lie, or cheat. Those are the mental consequences. Then there are the physical.

If it weren't for my blue eyes, the scar under my chin, and my nose, I wouldn't have recognized myself. My skin had turned gray, and there were brown smudges under my eyes from yesterday's markers. Boils, scabs, whiteheads, and blackheads covered my face. My teeth were yellow, and my gums were caked with plaque. Sections of my hair were dreaded. My lips were dry and cracked. I was twenty-four today. Damn, I looked worse than the morning after I was raped.

My purpose of writing Memoirs Aren't Fairytales was to expose the depth of addiction, what addicts are willing to sacrifice, and the amount of people affected by their disease. For those in recovery, ignore the voice of your addiction and continue fighting your disease. For the families of the addicted, let me assure you you're not alone, I understand your pain, and I can feel your heartache. For those of you who are interested in this lifestyle, run. Run away as fast as you can from those desires, because this book will show you the consequences and they're extreme.

Addiction was once considered taboo. It was whispered about behind closed doors, implied in group settings, downplayed even, because no one wanted to admit they or their loved ones had a problem. It's not just a problem. It's a worldwide epidemic that has a name, face, and voice. Don't be afraid to say it out loud. Don't be weary to admit your husband, mother, or best friend is an addict. There's help available for families, treatment centers for the addicted, meetings and pre and post-clinic care. I hope this novel raises awareness of a disease that's killing our nation. I hope families and friends of the addicted learn the difference between love and enabling, and stop the latter. Most of all, I hope my readers learn that addiction isn't a choice. It's a disease.

About Marni:

A New Englander at heart, Marni Mann, now a Floridian is inspired by the sandy beaches and hot pink sunsets of Sarasota. A writer of literary fiction, she taps a mainstream appeal and shakes worldwide taboos, taking her readers on a dark, harrowing, and gritty journey.