This Is How: Surviving What You Think You Can't

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From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Running With Scissors comes a groundbreaking book by Augusten Burroughs that explores how to survive what you think you can't.

If you're fat and fail every diet, if you're thin but can't get thin enough, if you lose your job, if your child dies, if you are diagnosed with cancer, if you always end up with exactly the wrong kind of person, if you always end up alone, if you can't get over the past, if your parents are insane and ...

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This Is How: Proven Aid in Overcoming Shyness, Molestation, Fatness, Spinsterhood, Grief, Disease, Lushery, Decrepitude & More. For Young and Old Alike.

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From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Running With Scissors comes a groundbreaking book by Augusten Burroughs that explores how to survive what you think you can't.

If you're fat and fail every diet, if you're thin but can't get thin enough, if you lose your job, if your child dies, if you are diagnosed with cancer, if you always end up with exactly the wrong kind of person, if you always end up alone, if you can't get over the past, if your parents are insane and ruining your life, if you really and truly wish you were dead, if you feel like it's your destiny to be a star, if you believe life has a grudge against you, if you don't want to have sex with your spouse and don't know why, if you feel so ashamed, if you're lost in life, if you have ever wondered, How am I supposed to survive this?

This is How.

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"The last self-help book you'll ever read."—Janice Harper, The Huffington Post

“Hilarious and searingly straight forward…Burroughs turns the self-help genre upside-down.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)

"Fans of the author’s massively popular confessional memoirs will likely agree with that statement, and all of the wisdom he dispenses in his new book — delivered with the dark, acidic humor we’ve come to expect — is certainly well-earned."—The Boston Globe

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781250032102
  • Publisher: Picador
  • Publication date: 4/23/2013
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 240
  • Sales rank: 108,942
  • Product dimensions: 6.00 (w) x 8.19 (h) x 0.62 (d)

Meet the Author

Augusten Burroughs

AUGUSTEN BURROUGHS is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of A Wolf At The Table, Possible Side Effects, You Better Not Cry, Magical Thinking, Dry, Running with Scissors, and Sellevision. He lives in Manhattan.


Although Augusten Burroughs achieved moderate success with his debut novel, Sellevision, it was his 2002 memoir, Running with Scissors, that catapulted him into the literary stratosphere. Indeed, few writers have spun a bizarre childhood and eccentric personal life into literary gold with as much wit and panache as Burroughs, whose harrowing accounts of dysfunction and addiction are offset by an acerbic humor readers and critics find irresistible.

Born Christopher Robison (he changed his name when he turned 18), Burroughs is the son of an alcoholic father who abandoned his family and a manic-depressive mother who fancied herself a poet in the style of Anne Sexton. At age 12, he was farmed out to his mother's psychiatrist, a deeply disturbed -- and disturbing -- man whose medical license was ultimately revoked for gross misconduct. In Running with Scissors, Burroughs recounts his life with the pseudonymous Finch family as an experience tantamount to being raised by wolves. The characters he describes are unforgettable: children of assorted ages running wild through a filthy, dilapidated Victorian house, totally unfettered by rules or inhibitions; a variety of deranged patients who take up residence with the Finches seemingly at will; and a 33-year-old pedophile who lives in the backyard shed and initiates an intense, openly homosexual relationship with the 13-year-old Burroughs right under the doctor's nose.

That he is able to wring humor and insight out of this shocking scenario is testimony to Burroughs's writing skill. Upon its publication in 2002, Scissors was hailed as "mordantly funny" (Los Angeles Times), "hilarious" (San Francisco Chronicle), and "sociologically suggestive and psychologically astute" (The New York Times). The book became a #1 bestseller and was turned into a 2006 movie starring Annette Bening, Alec Baldwin, and Joseph Fienes.

[Although the doctor who "raised" Burroughs was never named in the memoir, six members of the real-life family sued the author and his publisher for defamation, claiming that whole portions of the book were fabricated. Burroughs insisted that the book was entirely accurate but agreed in the 2007 settlement to change the wording of the author's note and acknowledgement in future editions of the book. He was never required to change a single word of the memoir itself.]

Since Running with Scissors, Burroughs has mined snippets of his life for more bestsellers, including further installments of his memoir (Dry, A Wolf at the Table) and several well-received collections of razor-sharp essays. His writing continues to appear in newspapers and magazines around the world, and he is a regular contributor to National Public Radio's Morning Edition.

Good To Know

Some fun and fascinating outtakes from our interview with Burroughs:

"When I was very young, maybe six or seven, I used to make little books out of construction paper and wallpaper. Then I'd sew the spine of the book with a needle and thread. Only after I had the actual book did I sit down with a pencil and write the text. I actually still have one of these little books and it's titled, obliquely, Little Book."

"Well, all of a sudden I am obsessed with PMC. For those of you who think I am speaking about plastic plumbing fixtures, I am not. PMC stands for Precious Metal Clay. And it works just like clay clay. You can shape it into anything you want. But after you fire it, you have something made of solid 22k gold or silver. So you want to be very careful. Anyway, I plan to make dog tags. So there's something."

"I'm a huge fan of English shortbread cookies, of anything English really. I very nearly worship David Strathairn. And I'm afraid that if I ever return to Sydney, Australia, I may not return."

"I will never refuse potato chips or buttered popcorn cooked in one of those thingamajigs you crank on top of the stove."

"And my politics could be considered extreme, as I truly believe that people who molest or otherwise abuse children should be buried in pits. And I do believe our country has been served by white male presidents quite enough for the next few hundred years. I really could go on and on here, so I'd best stop."

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    1. Also Known As:
      Augusten X. Burroughs
    2. Hometown:
      New York, New York and western Massachusetts
    1. Date of Birth:
      October 23, 1965
    2. Place of Birth:
      Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
    1. Education:
      No formal education beyond elementary school
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

How to Ride an Elevator

Several years ago when the relationship I assumed was both nearly perfect and my last turned out to be neither and ended car- off - cliff style, I experienced an unexpected and profound personal awakening.

 This awakening arrived convincingly disguised as the most miserable and debilitating period of my life— a life that would now be trimmed short from the disease of ruination.

 So complete was this state of psychological collapse, it even followed me into elevators.

 As I stood in a hotel elevator one afternoon on my way back to my room, it stopped on that floor with all the conference rooms, where they keep the people with name tags.

 One such person stepped into the lift, pushed the button for her floor, then took a step back and angled her body so that she was not quite facing me, but neither was she looking straight ahead at the seam where the doors meet, as common American Elevator Etiquette dictates.

 Even out of the corner of my now suspicious eye I was able to register the “I’m a people person” body language such a stance suggested.

 No sooner had I formed the silent thought, “God, a people person. She better not speak to—” I heard this: “It’s not that bad.”

 I’d been scrupulously careful to keep my thought about her to myself; she had not done the same.

 What’s more, she’d spoken these words much louder and with more conviction than you would think necessary for a space roughly the size of four caskets standing on end.

 “I’m sorry?” I said.

 She was looking at me with an expression of incredulity mixed with boldness. The highlights in her spiky hair had a greenish cast in the unflattering elevator lighting and her lipstick provided her with an upper lip that I saw she did not actually possess.

 “I said, it’s not that bad,” and she gave me that frank, eyebrows up, let’s-be- real- here, look. “What ever it is that happened, it can’t possibly be as bad as it looks on your face. How ’bout trying on a smile for size. And if you’re all out, I’ve got one you can borrow.”

 My first thought was, “It’s leaking out of me? People can see it?”

 My second thought was, “Die, bitch.”

 But I am much too polite to say something like that so I said, “I’ll try.”

 Encouraged, she continued. “It’ll lift your spirits. The first thing I do every morning is smile at myself in the mirror and say, ‘You are a powerful, positive person and nothing can get

you down today.’ ”

 Thank God the elevator doors were already open and she was on her way out as she finished yammering at me, but just to be on the safe side I reached forward and began stabbing the

Door Close button.

 Now, I have an uncommonly high threshold for most any category of stimulation you can think of, but especially when it comes to being shocked, horrified, or enraged.

 I was all of these things now. After a mere elevator ride that could not possibly have lasted longer than thirty- five seconds.

Maybe forty seconds, if we passed through some sort of time- expanding warp.

 Once in my room I had to think, what the hell just happened there? Why do I hate Lipstickmouth so much?

 I am not a spiritual person, as I was in childhood. But occasionally, one event in my life will so quickly be followed by a second event that so perfectly replies to the first, it gives me pause and makes me wonder if I still have my St. Christopher medal somewhere.

 Glancing down at my laptop, I noticed the following bold headline in my news feed:

 SELF-HELP ‘MAKES YOU FEEL WORSE.’ Bridget Jones is not alone in turning to self- help mantras to boost her spirits, but a study warns they may have the opposite effect.

 I immediately clicked on the link and was taken to the BBC’s website, where I read the article.

  Canadian researchers found those with low self- esteem actually

  felt worse after repeating positive statements about


  They said phrases such as “I am a lovable person” only

  helped people with high self- esteem.

  The study appeared in the journal Psychological Science. . . .

  They found that, paradoxically, those with low self- esteem

  were in a better mood when they were allowed to have

  negative thoughts than when they were asked to focus exclusively

  on affirmative thoughts. . . . Repeating positive

  self- statements may benefit certain people, such as individuals

  with high self- esteem, but backfire for the very people

  who need them the most.


 No wonder I had found that woman so offensive. Sometimes things feel that bad.

 Sometimes you just feel like shit.

 Telling yourself you feel terrific and wearing a brave smile and refusing to give in to “negative thinking” is not only inaccurate— dishonest—but it can make you feel worse.

 Which makes perfect sense. If you want to feel better, you need to pause and ask yourself, better than what?

 Better than how you feel at this moment, perhaps.

 But in order to feel better than you feel at this moment, you need to identify how you feel, exactly.

 It’s like this: if California represents your desire to “feel better,” you won’t be able to get there— no matter how many maps you have— unless you know where you are starting from.

 Finally, trained researchers in white lab coats with clipboards and cages filled with monkeys had demonstrated in a proper clinical setting what I myself had learned several years earlier in a rehab setting: affirmations are bullshit.

 Affirmations are dishonest. They are a form of self- betrayal based on bogus, side- of- the- cereal- box psychology.

 The truth is, it is not going to help to stand in front of the mirror, look into your own eyes, and lie to yourself. Especially when you are the one person you are supposed to believe you

can count on.

 Affirmations are the psychological equivalent of sprinkling baby powder on top of the turd your puppy has left on the carpet.

This does not result in a cleaner carpet. It coats the underlying issue with futility.

 If affirmations were effective, a rape victim should be able to walk in her front door following the attack, go into the bathroom, and, with her silk blouse hanging in shredded strips

from her collarbones, scratch marks bleeding on her breasts—one nipple missing— and her bangs pasted to her filthy forehead with dirt and dried semen, say to her reflection, “I am too strong and in dependent to be hurt by negativity. I feel unafraid and powerful. I am grateful for the opportunity I have

had to night to experience something new, learn a little more about myself, and triumph in the face of adversity,” and then feel perfectly okay, maybe even a little bit rushy on those feelgood endorphins runners are always going on and on about.

 When in fact, what does help the person who has been raped is to chew it up and then spit it the hell out. And by chew it up I mean talk about it, write about it, paint it, make a movie about it, and then be done with it and move on. Because here’s the truth about rape: you do not have to be victimized by it

forever. You can take this awful, bottomless horror the rapist has inflicted on you, and you can seize it and recycle it into something wonderful and helpful and useful. You can, in this way, transform what was “done” to you into something that was “given” to you in the form of brutally raw material. You

can, in other words, accept this hideous thing and embrace it and take complete control of the experience and reshape it as you please. This is not to deny the experience and how devastating

it is; it is to accept the experience on the deepest level as your own possession now. An experience that is now part of you. Instead of allowing it to be a tap that drains you, you can force it into duty in service to your creative or intellectual goals.

 Many people do not want to admit to themselves or others when they are feeling distressed, anxious, insecure, lonely, or any of the other emotions people feel that exist uncomfortably outside the superupbeat umbrella. So it’s chin up and sprinkle, sprinkle, sprinkle.

 Should I have smiled when that woman stepped on to the elevator?

 “Good afternoon. You must be here for a conference. I hope you’re enjoying it.”

 “Good afternoon to you, too. And I am enjoying the conference very much. Always nice to be out of the office for a change of scenery.”

 “I hear you. Well, this is my floor. You have a terrific day.”

 “I will. You do the same.”

 Is that the scene as it ought to have played? Would an exchange of greasy, zero- calorie pleasantries improve the world?

 Is the act of making an effort to remain positive and speak in familiar, nonthreatening clichés better, healthier for us, emotionally?

 I don’t think so.

 Why couldn’t that woman just speak the plain truth and say something like, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I do know that I’ve looked into the mirror and seen your expression on my face.

And I don’t really have a point, I just wanted to say that.”

 Now, there’s nothing nasty in what she said; she wasn’t crazy or rude.

 It’s just that, there was nothing useful in what she said, either.

No nutrition at all. Truthfulness itself is almost medicinal, even when it’s served without advice or insight. Just hearing true words spoken out loud provides relief.

 It’s not that I wanted her to say something helpful; I hadn’t needed her to say a word. What was offensive and kind of vile was that she obviously saw on my face a mood dark and powerful

enough to warrant an intrusion.

 She then proceeded to both express her disapproval of my mood and suggest I wear a mask that projected the opposite of how I felt.

 It was just disappointing that dishonesty was her automatic response to my obvious unhappiness.

 In our superpositive society, we have an unspoken zerotolerance policy for negativity.

 Beneath the catchall of negativity is basically everything that isn’t superpositive.

 Seriously, who among us is having a Great! day every day?

Who feels Terrific, thanks! all the time?

 Nobody, but everybody. Because this is how we say hello

to one another.

 “Hey, Karen. How are you?”

 “Hi, Jim. I’m great, thanks!”

 It doesn’t matter if what we say isn’t really the truth because they’re not really asking how things are in our life and we’re not really telling them.

 Just like when somebody sneezes, we don’t say “Bless you” because we’re worried a demon may seize this open- mouthed, closed- eyed moment and take possession of the person; we say

“Bless you” because that’s the thing to say.

 If you said to a person, “Hi, how are you?” and they told you they were very anxious because they suspected their teenage daughter might be sexually active and this was just not okay, you would probably feel extremely awkward, try to look concerned and empathetic, but also get away as soon as possible by explaining you were late for a meeting.

 If you’re at all like me, you would suspect the person had some sort of mental illness and from that moment on, you would do your best to avoid them.

 Because they answered truthfully the question that you, yourself, asked them.

 Please believe me when I tell you that I am not suggesting you suddenly start yammering on about all your problems next time somebody asks, “How’s it going?”

 I’m saying, wait. Look at this thing we all do without even thinking about it.

 I’m also saying, look at this little lie we tell. Do you think there might be others we aren’t even aware of?

 I’ll go ahead and tell you right now, yes, there are others. Some not so much lies as misunderstandings. Or inaccuracies.

 In fact, you can be a very honest person and yet not be living

a truthful life.

 And not even realize it.

 This matters because stripping away all the inaccuracies, misunderstandings, and untruths that surround you is exactly how you can overcome anything at all.

 Truth is accuracy.

 Without accuracy, you can’t expect to manifest large, specific changes in your life.

 It’s not enough to believe something is true.

 Knowing in your heart of hearts that the world is fl at has absolutely no relationship to the actual shape of the planet, which will continue to spin on its spherical ass despite your belief in its


 Because we only rarely have the opportunity to know the full truth about something, we have to try for as much accuracy as possible. Accuracy can be thought of as an incremental percentage of the truth.

 Once again, by “truth” I don’t mean “your truth” or “my truth” or some stretchy, pliable, and fully customizable definition of Truth that suits our ever- changing needs.

 I mean only the in- your- face, ignore- at- your- peril, star- sapphire- bright, no- wonder- therapy- failed, singular, shackle- cracking, like- it- or- not, rock- bottom, buck- stopping, mind-reeling, complete- transformation factual truth that resides at the center of every one of your issues and dreams

and roadblocks and tragedies and miracles.

 This is not the truth you tell yourself in order to not rock the boat, or to smooth things over or keep everyone comfortable.

 The truth is humbling, terrifying, and often exhilarating. It blows the doors off the hinges and fills the world with fresh air.

 This is why your search for the solution to the problems, issues, and obstacles you’re dealing with in your own life must begin with your mouth.

 Specifically, the lies that come out of it.

Copyright © 2012 by Augusten Burroughs


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Sort by: Showing all of 2 Customer Reviews
  • Posted May 28, 2013

    I Also Recommend:

    Augusten Burroughs has a trademark style of writing, which is fu

    Augusten Burroughs has a trademark style of writing, which is funny and irreverent and on full display in this latest book.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted June 21, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

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