"Possible Side Effects" by Augusten Burroughs

I wouldn't consider Augusten Burroughs one of my favorite writers, but he is one of the contemporary writers whose works I follow. And by follow I don't mean that I read all of his works as soon as they come out; what I mean is that I am in touch with what he has published, and do choose to read his work when I have the time, or when I feel like reading something that isn't too serious. I have read two of his autobiographies, "Running with Scissors" and "Dry." The former I found intriguing in a disturbing and compelling way; the latter I thought was enjoyable though a bit too contrived and overwritten at times. I also read his collection of stories/essays entitled "Magical Thinking," which was thoroughly entertaining, though some of his jokes were simply in bad taste. (Saying that he was responsible for the return of Elizabeth Smart to her family, jeering about her being raped, for example.)

I spent the last couple of months reading "Possible Side Effects," another collection of essays, and found it to be worse than any of the books mentioned above. I thought the stories were neither interesting nor funny. The jokes were so dumb you would laugh more watching sitcoms on CW. I remember very few occasions when I actually laughed or chuckled while reading this book. Mostly I just found his narrative infuriatingly obnoxious.

Burroughs is often compared to David Sedaris; their styles are somewhat similar, although I would say Burroughs's is much darker. I prefer Sedaris, because I find him overall more intelligent; his comedy derives from his witty view on uncommon and oftentimes unfortunate situations. I also find that Sedaris has a more intellectual approach to writing; Burroughs writing often sounds like a dictated manuscript of a stand-up comedy show.

But to judge Burroughs by comparing him to Sedaris would be unfair. Any criticisms I have for "Possible Side Effects" come from my experience reading the book alone. I kept waiting for a good story, or a good joke, but what I found were mostly pointless, badly written stories that neither entertain nor offer anything for me to think about. When I read "Running with Scissors," I thought Burroughs had an original voice, and I admired his courage to tread on such dark and risky territories. I don't find that in this book; even his unique voice lost its authenticity and sounds more like an imitation of a bitchy, stereotypical gay guy. I still believe that Burroughs has something to contribute to the literary world, but I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone who had never been exposed to him before--they may never want to read any more of him.