![]() ![]() Hoffmeister gives us the man behind the hoodie - and it’s a doozy of a portrait. ![]() All together, it makes for a chilling and captivating read. The author’s Eugene background is evident in his pacing and delivery (yes, there is indeed a Eugene style of speaking). ![]() He writes with no self-pity, no psychobabble about the roots of his mental state during whatever period of turmoil he’s currently digging himself out of. Hoffmeister doesn’t write like a classic “reformed addict,” but rather like those young kids with the wandering eyes you see wearing hoodies and baseball caps at the bus station. The details come hard, grabbing hold of your brain and refusing to let go. The tactfully worded insecurity he feels about his 5’2” frame at the age of 14. The intelligent, deliberate description of the taste of a gun barrel. The casual mention within the first three paragraphs of the voice the author hears in his head. What first grabs you about Peter Brown Hoffmeister’s memoir The End of Boys are the details. Bad life, drugs, quick happy, bad crash, recovery, happy again forever. The End of Boys takes no prisoners with its gritty, entrancing realismĪddiction memoirs can be painfully boring. ![]()
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