How did he treat him?

Yeah, you know, my grandfather grew up in Philadelphia.

You know, on the streets, his dad was... didn't do well in life, didn't give him a lot of instructions.

They were poor.

They had to skip rent all the time.

His family broke up when he was a teenager.

His sisters had to quit high school to go to work.

What kept you going? And maybe it was therapy, but what kept you going? What kept you connected, if I can use that word?

Because only when you put something real and honest into the world Do you get something real back? And so I just want to ask you first to start off, like, now that you've given this real thing to the world, what have you gotten back? How has it been so far? It's been...

Illuminating, I would say, you know, I think, you know, my analyst talks about his one of his kind of catchphrases is reality is medicinal, you know, and I think particularly in my alcoholism and my ride through Hollywood, you know, early on when I was just kind of thrown into that that circus environment.

I was young, I was in my 30s, and I don't know that I had any idea who I really was.

I knew what my ego wanted in life.

I knew that it was nice to get praise, accolades, money, attention, the things that everybody is told that you're supposed to want.

but I didn't know who I was and what my soul wanted and what wanted to come through me.

I think intuitively some of my early work, you know, it is my soul speaking, but it wasn't until I got sober and did the analysis and really started doing the hard work of looking in a real mirror not some kind of fantasy of who I thought I should be or how I wanted to craft myself so that other people would see me in a certain way, that I really started to do the work that not only I felt called to do, but the work that I felt was essential for me to do.

And that is something I know that you've struggled with as well, isn't it? That I'm wondering, you know, is there, was there some kind of magic Dionysian fire that you were able to touch through the substances that now being sober, you're not?

[laughs]

...

he, he's an archetype now.

He's a North Star for good, bad, or indifferent.

And so my analyst really had me focused on looking at the good things in my father, the things that I should appreciate, which was deeply distasteful to me in the beginning.

And there's this conversation, um, that I have with my analyst that's in the book where I say, "He didn't do anything for me.

He was horrible." And he says things like, "Oh, he didn't go out to work and, you know, pay for food and clothing?" And, you know, I initially say, "Everyone's father does that.

Yeah.

Talk a little bit about that and why this jumped up in the line when originally it was going to be perhaps 10 years further away.

Yeah.

I always wanted to write a book about my father.

I've tried to do that over the past 20 years and it's been very difficult and it never felt right and never worked out.

I wrote this other novel that I submitted to my editor, Jofi at Avid Reader.

And he said, you know, I really don't think this is your next book.

He said, I think you should write about your sobriety, your relationship with your father and your Jungian analysis, which was terrifying.

So it's almost like we're watching you write the book that we're actually reading.

But yeah, can you take us back a bit on how those early conversations went?

Yeah, with Alicia, it was pretty simple.

She always says I'm her favorite writer, and she said, just tell the truth.

She was just all in.

Now, of course, she's also my first reader, and she edits my work, too.

But she really didn't have... much to say.

When you're creating dialogue, there are times when you're trying to remember and guess.

it's