A groundbreaking, incandescent debut novel about coming to grips with the past and ourselves, for fans of Sally Rooney, Hanya Yanagihara and Garth Greenwell
“He fixes everything that’s wrong with you in three days.”
This is what hooks Sam when he first overhears it at a fancy dinner party in the Hollywood hills: the story of a globe-trotting shaman who claims to perform “open-soul surgery” on emotionally damaged people. For neurotic, depressed Sam, new to Los Angeles after his life in New York imploded, the possibility of total transformation is utterly tantalizing. He’s desperate for something to believe in, and the shaman—who promises ancient rituals, plant medicine and encounters with the divine—seems convincing, enough for Sam to sign up for a weekend under his care.
But are the great spirits the shaman says he’s summoning real at all? Or are the ghosts in Sam’s memory more powerful than any magic?
At turns tender and acid, funny and wise, Broken People is a journey into the nature of truth and fiction—a story of discovering hope amid cynicism, intimacy within chaos and peace in our own skin.
What does it take to “fix” our problems? Is such a fix even possible? These questions are at the core of Broken People, Sam Lansky's debut novel.
Sam is a writer in Los Angeles. He wrote a memoir about his struggles with addiction in his teens and how difficult it is to stay sober. It sold modestly but it didn’t make him a household name.
Now 28, he can’t remember the last time he was happy. His ideas for a second book don’t work, he’s worried he might lose his magazine job, he can’t find a relationship, and he’s so unhappy with his body he’s convinced the entire gay community will reject him because he’s fat. His unhappiness is practically debilitating.
"Maybe some people are just born self-hating and self-destructive and we die that way. And so we go to therapy and twelve-step groups and we take antidepressants and anxiety meds and we journal and go to yoga and exercise and take baths and drink pressed juices and repeat affirmations to ourselves in the mirror and listen to Brené Brown podcasts. But we're just swimming against the tide, because the darkness always comes back. All we ever do is learn to manage the symptoms."
At a dinner party one night, he hears about a shaman who supposedly can fix people’s problems over the course of a weekend. It certainly seems too good to be true, but signs keep pointing him toward taking a chance.
He and an acquaintance spend the weekend with the shaman, and Sam hopes this will be the answer to his problems. But is the key to happiness reopening old wounds, prodding insecurities, and confronting hidden trauma, or is the shaman really summoning his power?
This was a thought-provoking, emotional book that raised some interesting questions. I honestly was expecting there to be much more trauma revealed than there was, and I don’t know that I bought the whole concept of “fixing.”
It’s a well-written book but I never quite connected with it as much as I would’ve liked. Still, it’s another intriguing book for Pride Reads!!
This is Sam Lanksy’s debut novel after his memoir came out a few years ago. And I can honestly say that it is an arresting and raw voice. The story follows a man on a desperate journey to find self-acceptance—and the honest, gutting way Sam writes about it is truly exceptional.
Broken People is saturated in psychological disorders—several psychological disorders. The title should be called Broken Person as trouble abounds throughout the complicated, main character’s life; not the others. The premise had promise and was thought provoking yet the author failed to execute a narrative that was interesting and worth remembering. This book is all about thoughts and feelings. I’m ok with that; hence the 3 stars, but feel it’s catered toward a smaller audience.
Standout Quotes: “What a thing, he thought—to be well liked by everyone but yourself.”
“You know, you think your pain is so monumental, but it’s actually pretty mundane. This is just normal stuff, not some great human theater. It’s what people go through. It’s just a part of life.”
This book is just “middle of the road” for me. Broken People deals with some heavy topics, such as shame, depression, sexuality and HIV, and acceptance. The story is centered around an author, Sam, who attends a wealthy older man, Buck’s dinner party and gets introduced to a “shaman” who has spiritual healing powers. Buck and Sam venture off to meet this shaman, but what Sam doesn’t expect is the amount of pain he eventually opens up and tries to settle once and for all.
Overall, I felt that the pacing of the book was relatively slow and for the most part, not really the type of book that I’d usually enjoy. However, when Sam gets through some deep-seeded issues with the shaman, the book gets really, really intense. I can see comparisons to A Little Life, but in my opinion, that I only fair to compare on a superficial capacity. Broken People only touches the surface of Sam’s issues, leaving readers (or maybe just me) confused on how a shaman could possibly heal them so effortlessly. I do believe readers will either “take it or leave it”, with this book. I’m curious to see where you stand!
In many ways, this book felt a lot like sitting in on someone's therapy sessions and given how many biographical details the main character shares with the author, I couldn't help but wonder if it was written for therapeutic purposes. I know that's going to be a turn-off for many readers, but I found myself really drawn into the journey.
“The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.” —Buffy Summers, “The Gift” S5 Ep 22
I may need a shaman myself to help me heal and recover from this meditative metafiction. It was a trip—unlocking my own consciousness. It made me realize the power of memories and the power and hold they have over me. Thank you, Sam, for taking me on this journey that didn’t really go anywhere—but went everywhere and nowhere all at once.
This was an intense look into the mind of someone dealing with a lot of guilt and shame. The premise of the book is that the MC hears about a shaman who can fix what ails you in three days. Sounds easy, but it actually turns out to be a difficult, painful process. The author digs deep here, but much like the character in this book, it can be too much at times.
Second Read: This book is just as beautiful as I remember it. The introspection and healing journey the narrator takes you on is nothing short of breathtaking. This will continue to be one of my favorite novels and something that I will always draw wisdom from. Living in NYC now, it is exciting to see all the places Sam describes, and it serves as a reminder that the most important thing in this world is to love yourself, not in a perfectionist kind of way but as a human being deserving of love simply for being alive.
First Read: It is not often that a book moves me to tears or that I stay up until 1AM to finish it, but here we are. This was a beautiful and raw depiction of what it is like to live with depression, anxiety, and OCD. More importantly, though, it shows the nonlinearity of recovery from mental illness and the subsequent frustration. Parts of this book were hilarious, and other parts were deeply nostalgic. I enjoyed how introspective this novel was and the extreme vulnerability required of Sam to change his thinking pattern. This is also filled with subtle critiques of classism, the effects of homophobia, and the hyper-sexualization of gay men which are all very important topics given the current climate. I highly recommend the book as one of the most beautiful, queer novels focused on mental health.
I really loved Lansky's memoir The Gilded Razor, which is why it hurts so much to write this review… Broken People is clearly an autobiographical novel that picks up where The Gilded Razor leaves off, with a gimmicky new age plot that never materializes into anything more than a device to delve into Sam's backstory. I would have enjoyed the book had he forgone the plot and simply wrote another memoir detailing the messy intricacies of these past relationships, rather than painting them with a broad brush. What was so great about The Gilded Razor was the specificity of it. How he captured the idiosyncrasies that make us who we are for better or worse. In fictionalizing his life, Lansky seems to have ironed out all of the edges that made him, and his writing, so sharp, funny and real.
I also think this book is the victim of unfortunate timing. In our current political climate, it's really hard to care about a character with so much privilege and success taking it for granted and complaining about how much he hates his life. I usually like unlikable characters. Sam might be at home in a Brett Easton Ellis novel and this totally could have worked as a satire. The problem is Lansky is dead serious and expects you to sympathize with him and learn from this spiritual journey, which devolves into self-help jargon by the end. No doubt, there will be readers who relate to this, but most of us don't have the luxury of having an existential crisis about not having the perfect body. I do think he tried to find universality in this subject like he did with addiction in The Gilded Razor, but in doing so he treats them as though they are on the same scale. Reading about a teenager out of his depth dealing with issues that are much bigger than himself, doesn't carry the same weight as a grown man acting like a teenager, blowing up small issues way out of proportion.
I... I don’t know. A lot of this book is set in highly privileged, rich, white, gay spaces, in New York and Los Angeles. I was expecting more commentary on the many problematic aspects of those spaces, or maybe a satirical take, à la Less.
The very premise of the book is a white “shaman” claiming that he can fix the main character’s issues in three days. That narrative was central to the book. Yet, the appropriation of Indigenous practices for white profit was barely mentioned (only once, as far as I can tell, in a quick dialogue).
This book reads like it’s mostly autobiographical, and I really don’t want to invalidate the experiences of the author here. It’s only that, by the end of the book, I felt like a lot of privileges remained unchecked. Not to say that he didn’t do this work in real life – but I wish he had expanded on it in the book.
Sam Lansky has written an incredibly aware and vulnerable account of finding one's self at an existential crossroads, having fled multiple past lives and still yearning for something else. Set against the malaise of young people who turn to social media for self-pleasing and self-destructive feedback loops, and of established professionals in Los Angeles and New York who indulge in expensive and equally self-destructive habits to feel better, Lansky explores a tantalizing what-if scenario in the form of a shaman who is said to cure all ailments in the space of a single weekend. What follows is an expansive journey into the pain of memory and the immutability of the past that reaches for a basal desire in us all: a future where nothing hurts.
So often you read books and they’re perfectly good and enjoyable and nice but they don’t particularly stay with you. More of a sense of “Oh, that was a nice read.” But Broken People was something I genuinely felt. It left me pensive and thoughtful each evening after I finished my reading. It was the story of a man visiting a shaman for a three day healing weekend - intending to fix whatever it was about himself that felt broken. And then taking a soul searching dive into his past relationships, the men he loved, his fears of inadequacy, his hatred of his own, imperfect body, and the desire for human connection. It was full of grief, it was sad, it was spiritual, it was, ultimately, uplifting.
Sam has a really unique way of articulating what i think a lot of us feel... making it his own, while still keeping it relatable. I find myself, so many times through the book, nodding along because i know exactly what he means. This book definitely spoke to the LA spiritual side of me, and i felt that it was a great follow up to his first book.
Broken People by Sam Lansky (#52 in 2020)PUB DATE: 6/9/2020
Sam first hears about a shaman who can fix anything that's wrong with a person over the course of three days. Being a young man who's recently moved to California from New York in search of a fresh start, Sam considers how this shaman could help to cure his anxiety and depression. When Sam is pushed to confront the ghosts that lurk in his memory, he realizes that the shaman is digging deeper than he originally anticipated.
My friends, this is exactly the healing sort of read I was looking for. Sam Lansky's writing is even-paced, and his dialogue is realistic. He creates characters with complex emotions and common stressors. Broken People brings up some serious topics aside from depression and anxiety as Sam struggles with accepting his sexuality and deals with memories from the past that force Sam to confront his pain.
At first, there is a significant amount of skepticism regarding how the shaman will be able to "heal" the aspects of Sam that he wants to change. As the story progresses, the reader gets a firsthand glimpse into the memories that plague the recesses of Sam's mind - think Ghost-of-Christmas-Past-style - and it hits you right in the subconscious.
I find that a lot of what Sam goes through is open to the reader's interpretation. This is important to know because I think some readers worry that they're "not getting it" when the author really intends for the reader to form his or her own conclusions. I, personally, felt like a lot of what Sam experiences in terms of the energy healing is similar to that of reiki, but there's also this aspect of regression therapy that comes into play.
I, personally, have never tried regression therapy because the idea frightens me a bit too much. I did, however, start reiki when my (super) longtime bestie became a reiki master. I cannot even begin to tell you how special and rejuvenating this energy healing truly is. You can physically feel the heat radiate from your reiki master's hands and your body's energy gets redirected to where it needs to be.
Sam is struggling. Young and gay he has moved from New York to LA after a failed relationship to start afresh and strive to make his mark. After publishing a soft selling memoir of his addiction, he’s working on a follow up and hitting blocks both emotionally and creatively. One night at a dinner party he learns of a shamen who is known for healing people of various afflictions. On a lark he decides to go visit him, and spend a weekend fighting against skepticim to heal himself. So I didn’t read Lansky’s previous book which was, like Sam, a memoir of his addiction. With that knowledge, this whole story has a meta quality to it that feels like it’s a factionalized version of what happened after his first book. Lansky is a good writer and hits home the insecurities and shortcomings I think many gay men feel in this age of influencers and insta abs, and currency based on pec size and treasure trails. His dialogue crackles and he’s created funny relatable characters. The problem for me is the character who becomes increasingly unlikeable and frankly annoying is the center of the story. The first half I was fully invested in Sam’s plight and insecurities, many surrounding his attractiveness physically in the gay world which I think many gay men face. However I soon found myself wanting to throttle him, which if this is the intent, it works brilliantly. I just don’t know that it is. Ultimately it alienated me a bit and like his former lovers found myself echoing them, as one told him, “you can be like, very intense”. I’ll be interested to see what Lansky writes next cause I really do think he’s a good writer. This was just a bit of a mixed bag for me. Have you read this yet? Be curious anyone else’s thoughts? It comes out 6/9/20
This was really well written and intense, so much so that for the first time in memory, I found myself a bit exhausted and exasperated living in the author's head.
The premise is that a 30-something gay, having left NYC for LA and not in possession of wealth or the perfect body, seeks out an otherworldly solution for his brokenness. He is in recovery from addiction and coming off a few very painful breakups, so when he hears about a shaman who can cure everything, he leaps at the opportunity.
As I said, Lansky is such a skilled writer and an observant narrator, but sometimes--especially when cataloguing the materialistic things, e.g., the Creed cologne bottles or the fur trim of a designer coat--it felt hard to take seriously, especially when these details vied for space on the same page with (or stood in as metaphors for) breakthroughs and more transcendent realizations. There's a certain type of gay whose currency seems to consist entirely in being fluent in identifying, ranking, and hoarding such details, and while I get the impression that the author wanted us to associate those with his former self--the pre-enlightenment iteration--it didn't really come off that way in the end.
Regardless, I hope the author (presumably the narrator) is happy, and seems genuinely headed in that direction.
I received a digital review copy from the publisher through NetGalley. It is scheduled to be published June 9 2020. I'm sure this book will find its audience, I'm just not in it. I can't even tell if I liked the writing style of this book because the characters and story didn't resonate with me at all--selfish, childish, so self absorbed they were boring at best, pitiful at worst. And then they all live happily ever after.
This was excellent. Bit of a slow start and then it had me for the remainder. Sam is an excellent writer and I am curious how much of this is true and how much is embellished, seeing as it’s billed as a “novel” but is clearly about him to a large extent. There are some strong themes I identified with that were hard to read but necessary. I also respect the level of vulnerability. It’s nice to know you are not alone in your thinking or your journey to wellness.
Gutting. Not much on plot, but a savage, uncompromising, yet ultimately generous dive into the broken mind heart and body of a gay man. Sam got sober, but the story doesn't end with his sobriety. Sam finds love, but it doesn't end with his romance either. More so than anything I've read, this is about someone falling in love with himself. I'll be coming back to this again.
Not sure what to make of this book. The catch: A shaman tells you he can fix everything that wrong with you in three days. I wish I could find that shaman. :)
This is a tough book to review because on one hand it was hugely relatable *to me*, but on another, its fairly thin plot will probably frustrate readers who don't share an infinity with the character's plight. I share many of the hangups and flaws of its main character--Sam, who shares his name with the author--but he isn't always likeable, and I definitely bristled by the character's unacknowledged privileges. I'm going to give this a soft recommendation, and think those who struggle with body issues in particular will find a lot to relate to.
The premise holds real promise--a queer man in his twenties hears of a shaman who can fix everything wrong with a person in 3 days. Of course self-loathing Sam, who feels uncomfortable in his own skin most of the time, is intrigued. I wish the book would have dabbled with something a little more *Black Mirror*esque or some of the more wild constructions of Peter Kispert stories than its fairly straightforward spiritual ceremony with flashbacks. (And it frustrated me that the ceremony was never really explained.)
What works really well is Lansky's ability to capture Sam's emotional shame spiralling. I don't often bookmark pages anymore, but there are actually *several* passages I've marked in this book. I thought those passages when Sam--the character AND the author, since there are several parallels between them that makes me wonder if this is really an exercise in creative memoir writing--talks about trying to narrate his life as the unfolding of a novel were brilliant.
And finally, I think it was a bit unfair (for anyone honestly) to compare this book to Hanya Yanagihara or Garth Greenwell. Besides writing about queer men, I didn't see how Lansky's style or plot were anything like what I see there.
I learned a lot about writing and being a healthy queer man. Good read overall.
A work of autofiction about a young man's journey through pain and recovery, a novel so vulnerable, hopeful, and inspirational that I was on the verge of hurling at least once per page. I used to think there was a thin line between self-discovery and self-absorption, but after reading "Broken People," I question whether the line exists. Sam Lansky, a journalist who in his late 20's published a memoir about his teenage drug use, has written a novel about "Sam," a journalist who in his late 20's published a memoir about his teenage drug use. He still suffers from anxiety, though, so he embarks on a three-day journey with a self-appointed guru who drugs him into clarity. I suspect Mr. Lansky did something similar in his personal life. Maybe Mr. Lansky thought this membrane-thin disguise would allow him to be a little more objective about himself. I'm scared to think it didn't, and even more scared to think it did. Still, he's a talented writer, and when I got bored with him as a human being, I could at least take some pleasure in his sentences. I congratulate Mr. Lansky for getting sober, and hope he stays that way. I commend him for working to overcome his more self-destructive tendencies in life and in relationships, and wish him continued success. And I hope he recovers enough from his traumatic childhood and young adulthood to become interested in something aside from himself, Christina Aguilera songs, and shopping.
This book blew me away. The writing is at once beautiful and visceral and so relatable, at least for a millennial gay male as myself. With themes of toxic relationships, body dysmorphia, and general anxiety/depression about the world we live in these days, the author explores how our self-negativity doesn’t only keep ourselves down, but also affects those who choose to love us. It also includes a deep analysis/appreciation for a certain set of Taylor Swift lyrics which immediately lets me know I made the right decision in purchasing this book. Overall, I am much more aware of negative self-talk in my own life as a result of reading this book. We may all be broken people, but we are also all deserving of a happy life on this broken earth. We deserve love.
1.5 ⭐️ Sam’s anxiety gave me anxiety. I pitied him the entire book because he couldn’t get out of his own way. I was interested in the Shaman aspect until the “during” duration of the book. It dragged on and on, not revealing much at all and was super repetitive. I didn’t get to know the characters nearly as well as I wanted to. I felt like I didn’t even know the main character that well. He was privileged and self absorbed. The beginning hooked me and quickly lost me.
Sometimes a book hits in just the right way at just the right time and, when you finish, you feel raw in the best way. This did this. I think I read 90% of the book in one sitting - I couldn't put it down. I related so much to Sam's stories and memories and the way that they hit all at once. I just....wow