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Leslie Pietrzyk has written a stunning book of fiction that, based in part on her own loss of a young husband, spirals toward emotive, shattering truth. I've written of it here, in New York Journal of Books.

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In the midst of crazy, swoony days, I sat down with Jill Bialosky's new novel The Prize, a book I kept racing to return to, because you just know, from about page one, that you won't rest until you know what happened.

Art. Greed. Honor. Desire.

It's all here.

My thoughts, in the New York Journal of Books.

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Yesterday, on Huffington Post, I wrote about the importance of structure in memoir. How, indeed, considered structure makes memoir memoir. If we don't care about how the true story gets told, if we don't think broadly, innovatively, wisely about structure, we're only writing autobiography. Telling our story because it's interesting to us, because we feel like talking.

Patti Smith understands structure.

Indeed: How much did I love Patti Smith's utterly humble and humbling new memoir, M Train?

TOOMUCHTOSAYTOOMUCHTOWRITETOOMUCHTOOMUCHTHATMUCH.

This is a star who moves quietly through this world, sitting at coffee shops, remembering and thinking. Never drops a name. Never boasts a moment. She is, and she takes us with her.

My thoughts on M Train, in New York Journal of Books, here.

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A very happy publication day to Julianna Baggott and her immensely wonderful Harriet Wolf's Seventh Book of Wonders. Baggott spent years getting this book right, she has explained in interviews. Her dad helped with research, her acknowledgments say. And anyone who has witnessed Baggott in social media knows her heart is always in the right place. Her mind, too.

My review in full is here.

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I had the pleasure of reviewing Barefoot to Avalon, David Payne's memoir about the loss of a beautiful brother who faced the demons of Bipolar I, for the New York Journal of Books. Payne's brother was the blessed one, the favored one, a young man much loved. When he dies helping the author move his belongings to a new southern home, Payne is left with the past—sifting clues, pushing beyond old hurts, admonishing himself for not paying closer attention.

It's a knotty, layered, intricate read. It is compelling and urgent. A reminder of the terrible power of mental unwellness and lost chances.

My complete review is here.

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Readers of this blog know just how much I love Per Petterson. Indeed, having read all of his books I can say with some assurance that I Refuse, his newest, is his most technically astonishing and emotionally devastating.

My thoughts can be found here, in the New York Journal of Books.

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The fantastic New York Journal of Books has a wonderful review up of The Killer Within: In the Company of Monsters, particularly bittersweet given the recent passing of author Philip Carlo.

"Rest in peace, Mr. Carlo, knowing that your last effort was your best," writes John M. Wills. Scroll down to read the full review, or go here to read it on www.nyjournalofbooks.com.

The Killer Within: In The Company of Monsters
by Philip Carlo
Reviewed by John M. Wills | Released: January 6, 2011
Publisher: Overlook Press (256 pages)

Philip Carlo is no stranger to violence and death. He grew up in Brooklyn where he had a first-hand look at bullies, assorted tough guys, and Mafia members. He witnessed beatings and extortions, and like many inner-city kids, he became involved with drugs and gangs.

That gang affiliation nearly cost him his life. He was shot in the head during a gang fight when he was only 15 years old. Whether surviving that incident gave him a penchant for writing about death and those who cause it, we will never know. What we do know is that Mr. Carlo “walks the walk, not just talks the talk,” which enables him to write true stories that many may find too frightening to read.

The Killer Within is a memoir, and after reading the book and preparing to write this review, I did what I always do: I researched the author and his other works. I Googled Philip Carlo and went to his website, where I was saddened to learn of his recent death. He passed on November 8, 2010, at the age of 61, succumbing to ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. This insidious affliction, for which there is no treatment or cure, was Mr. Carlo’s “killer within.” In an ironic twist of fate, it was not the demonic murderers he freely associated with that took his life, but rather a silent, life draining disease that slowly incapacitates each muscle in the body, until finally taking away the victim’s ability to breathe. It’s a slow death, one that tortures its prey on a daily basis, stealing bits of life in tiny increments, until all systems become entangled in its vicious grip. The real terror of Lou Gehrig’s is that the victim’s mind is not affected, thus the person becomes an observer watching his own demise.

Despite this hardship, Mr. Carlo endured and did not allow ALS to impede his career. His wonderful loving wife, Laura, tended to his needs, while his faithful assistant, Kelsey, wrote the words that he spoke. Unable to grasp a pen, he depended on her to facilitate his passion to write. The trio’s ability to work as a team allowed Mr. Carlo to continue on his writing journey. His quest for finding the truth never weakened—even as his body did. He remained upbeat and enjoyed life, particularly his love of ethnic food. He loved travelling to South Beach to write during the harsh New York winters. His story includes his many friends from all over the world, people he met while researching his novels: Stolen Flower, Predators & Prayers, The Ice Man: Confessions of a Mafia Contract Killer, The Nighstalker: The Life and Crimes of Richard Ramirez, Gaspipe: Confessions of a Mafia Boss,

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