A "self-deprecating, self-aggrandizing sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll story of love, life, and passion" piqued my interest as much as a Baptist tent revival in August. Nevertheless, I forced myself to read Greg Everett's Screaming at a Wall.

Divorce, extensive drug use (in mind-numbing detail) are described in the arrogant voice of a 13-year-old boy. As Everett "grow up," the subject matter is only amplified. The few reflective moments early on reveal little depth and I fully expected a "don't let this happen to you" homily delivered from jail or some similar outcome.

This, however, is not what the book is about.

True, Everett begins his story with the voice of a 13-year-old punk. But, as he ages, this voice changes. Though his late teens he becomes sarcastic and insolent. Everett rails against his friends, society, and himself. A wonderful storyteller, he pulls his readers though his lifetime sometimes coearcing, somethimes dragging and beating. Everett sits his readers down and lays it all out. Neither glorifying nor villifying his past, he tells his readers where he is at, what he has accomplished, and his vision for this generation.