Clay is back in Los Angeles for Christmas from his East Coast university. It’s the 1980s, he’s a part of the lost generation and feels like he's walking barefoot on Mulholland Drive even though he’s wearing designer shoes. Upon his return he’s forced to confront his dysfunctional, vain, glamorous and horrifying past where cocaine is breakfast, luxury cars are toys and everyone looks like an extra in a music video on MTV. 

His immaculately tan group of friends include his beautiful girlfriend, Blair, whom he tries to renew his feelings for despite his jaded apathy and same-sex hookups; anorexic Muriel, who treats Cedars Sinai like the Beverly Hills Hilton; his truant best friend, Julian, who has fallen into a seedy underworld of heroin and prostitution; and Rip, who has everything, except anything to lose. 

In a world where the maids are stoned, pre-teens are coke-heads, lives are wasted at poolsides, Spago is McDonald’s, and a 12-year-old girl is tied to a bed and used as a sex doll, Clay searches for the remnants of himself that can’t be found at the bottom of a bottle of Pérignon before he disappears here once and for all. 

Augusten Burroughs reached literary superstardom with the release of his first memoir, Running with Scissors, which was adapted for the screen starring Alec Baldwin and Annette Bening. 

The story of Burroughs' youth is so fascinating and troubling it would be easy to assume that the humorous insanity of his life peaked when he was 13 years old -- the first time he had a penis in his mouth. But the ridiculous characters captured in Running, from the crooked doctor and his “masterbatorium,” to his wife and her penchant for dog food, are just some of the magnificently eccentric people Burroughs has had the creative fortune and personal misfortune of knowing. 

In his second memoir, Dry, about battling his alcohol addiction, the author writes another page turner filled with characters and situations that are so idiosyncratic, if it were anyone else’s life, it might not be believed. But somehow, since it’s Burroughs, all the craziness comes across as not only believable, but fitting.

At 24, Burroughs was an advertising executive in Manhattan (think Mad Men with 10 times the booze -- and that’s saying something). Despite having no high school education, his artistic talent helped him rise quickly to the top of his field. But when you reach the top, there’s nowhere to go but rock bottom.

So began his adventure in a gay rehab, followed by his return to New York City, where he continued his recovery with laughter on the road to sobriety.

Dry is not another “I was an addict fuck-up” memoir. Sure, it’s about being an addict fuck-up, but there is nothing trite in the pages, which are revealing, funny and swift. 

I didn't used to like Boy George. Mostly because every time I wear a bowler hat, someone tells me I look like him. I used to take it as an insult because of, you know, the drug bloat, combined with the whole imprisoning a prostitute thing . . . It's interesting that many straight men, whenever they see a pretty boy, often make the association with Boy George. The comparison can be a little annoying, but it's also kind of amazing that decades after Boy George first became a star with Culture Club, his likeness is still so identifiable. He evokes a certain image, and that image is a part of both pop and gay culture's fabric. 

I became a Boy George fan after reading his memoir, Take It Like a Man. The book is full of startling and revelatory moments. It's well-written, entertaining and gritty. It's kiss-and-tell catharsis with a divinely confessional tone. There's no denying that Boy George has lived a fascinating life, from a Blitz Kid squatting in London with the likes of Marilyn and Steve Strange to global superstardom, and his spiral of disgrace, self-loathing and addiction.

Take It Like a Man takes you through the music, straight men and heroin -- to candidly expose the heart of a pop icon.

Querelle is a murderous sailor. He is pridefully beautiful and quarrelsome. He might emerge from an alleyway, cum stains worn as proud as medals on his sailor pants, from the men who jacked off as they sucked his big cock. He is beyond the usual as he has been shaped (or left shapeless) by his criminal acts. Criminality is always a temptation when a sailor sets foot on land, because the sea is free and land is governed by laws that restrain. Querelle is a marvel among criminals; he is both boldly masculine and not afraid to allow his feminine side to come through. Though capable of compassion, he has carried out acts that most people would deem vile, though Querelle can’t say as much. 

The story frames itself as the ship, Le Vengeur, helmed by a lonely obsessive lieutenant, is harboured in the port of Brest. On land, Querelle is the eye in a whirlwind of lust and intrigue. There is the sad aging Madame and her giving husband who tend an ill-famed brothel. There is the honourable cop who takes pride in his duties but doesn't mind a blowjob every now and then. We also have the various wide-eyed youth, who feel important due to their seedy associations.

This novel by the astonishingly keen Jean Genet is exquisite. You would be hard pressed to find characters whose psyches are so carefully and ingeniously crafted.