James Frey's not-necessarily-factual memoir, A Million Little Pieces, is a gritty, gripping tale of his drug rehab. He provides a window into a life that is as foreign to most of us as Mars, and his recovery is nothing short of miraculous, but he does not do it alone. As in Eat, Pray, Love, sometimes the people he meets are more fascinating than the protagonist. Of course, he had some help in almost destroying himself, too, but his is not the voice of a victim at all, and his culpability helps make this book special. He assumes full responsibility for the disaster that is his life and refuses to blame his family or his genetics, although both obviously play some role in his addiction. He also refuses to give himself up to a higher power, as required by AA. It's an amazing journey, and his words echo his experiences with their mind-numbing repetition. Particularly enlightening is his constant need for more, more, more, and in the absence of drugs or alcohol, this applies to food, which his body isn't able to digest at first. Don't let the writing style dissuade you from reading an engrossing story that grabs you and doesn't let go.
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