There's a Road to Everywhere Except Where You Came From is the memoir of a young Midwestern man struggling to carve out a life as a writer, and to find meaning, or at least a job, in his new and alien landscape of New York City. In a voice at once coolly detached and utterly confident, we follow Bryan Charles's journey navigating love, work, and family, from the streets of Manhattan to the upper floors of corporate America. This is a gripping meditation on the self, ricocheting between the multitudes and solitude, and between the industrial-turned-residential spaces of Brooklyn and the towers of the World Trade Center, where his life takes an unexpected turn. Charles's story is a spare, honest, and often hilarious narrative of expectation and loss, and of the ordinary becoming the extraordinary.
Bryan Charles' novel, Grab Onto Me Tightly As If I Knew the Way, is one of my favorite books. We published it, so I can literally go in and look at the sales and know that half of them probably came from me personally pushing it on people. I also had a huge crush on Bryan (even though I only met him in person once.) So I was very much looking forward to reading his memoir. But though I enjoyed his writing and enjoyed spending time with him in the book, it wasn't the slam dunk knock out of the park that his novel was for me. I think it's because I in many ways lived the girl version of this book. And I just don't think that being young and living in new york and working a shitty job and living in a shitty apartment and treating people badly and being treated badly necessarily warrants a memoir. It would be like me publishing 3-4 years of my livejournal entries (except that would be thousands of pages, probably, but you get the idea.) So while I liked reading it, just like I would like reading a friend's livejournal for three hours, I'm not going to become an evangelist for it. But I'll always be an evangelist for the novel. ALWAYS.
I will confess that I read this book because it had an endorsement from Michael Chabon on the cover. I did not read it because I knew it was a memoir about somebody (SPOILER ALERT) who survived the 9/11/11 attack on the Twin Towers. To the publisher's credit, this fact is not mentioned on the dust jacket, although I quickly guessed it after reading the author's note stating the span of time the book covered and the fact that the story begins with the author's move to New York City and quickly leads to him getting a job in Trade Center Two. I begin with this information by positing that while the book is an enjoyable read, it falls short (in my opinion) of Chabon's praise, and I suspect the book would not have been published were it not for the author's connection to an iconic moment in our nation's history.
What did I like about this memoir? The author's style is appealing--he praises Joan Didion and Tobias Wolff at separate moments in the book, and he offers the same direct language with deep reveals under deceptively straightforward description of events and actions. I liked the pace, which was quick; I finished the book in two sittings. I liked the honesty in which the author revealed his at times dysfunctional approaches to women and friends and his PTSD actions post-attack.
What I didn't like, I confess, was the story itself. The first 187 pages read like the creative thesis of a 20-something MFA student, which Charles was at the time. Most of the pages involve his frustration at not being published in literary journals, which is not happening in large part because he is not actually writing. He also is disillusioned by working in a high-paying job for "the man," which grows tiresome when you think about how many people of his generation would have loved to have had that "problem." Ultimately the challenge is that, before the 9/11 incident, nothing much happens in his life to warrant such a deep examination. I'm not suggesting someone who has only lived a short life should be precluded from writing a memoir; I am suggesting instead that Charles didn't give me enough uniqueness to truly intrigue me. I'll confess I kept reading because it was easy to (with his pace) and because I wanted to get to the World Trade Center already.
The dust jacket says Charles has written two other books, a novel and a biographical work. I applaud him achieving the publishing success he so longs for in the memoir. I also don't feel too bad about not overly praising this book, because he at times (with welcome honesty) trashes great writers in his book. Perhaps the most meta moment for me is when he meets an author whose book he savaged in an online review without having read, and then changes the review to a glowing one after meeting him (still without reading the book). Perhaps if I cross paths with Charles I will be tempted to give this book another star or two!
This book was just okay for me. There was a moment here and there where I thought "Okay, NOW maybe it's going to improve/get exciting/reveal a purpose" etc but then I'd quickly realize I was wrong. There were a lot of people mentioned within the pages but it never went deep enough to really get to know any of them -- including the author. Largely, rather than Morgan Stanley or an earlier company he worked for, he could have been any random guy working as a janitor, a factory worker or farmer, a teacher, or cook at some "greasy spoon" talking about his vague hopes for the future on occasion, the crushes and occasional sexcapades, the codependent unable to hold herself accountable mother but mostly, he talked about the day to day grind of his job and life. I don't like not finishing a book so I finished this one. It ended VERY abruptly and that only added to my disappointment in the book.
This book proves that practically anyone can be interesting enough to write a memoir. I picked it up because I heard it was a personal story revolving around a survivor of the 9/11 World Trade Center attacks. But 9/11 doesn't factor into the story until page 178. Before that are a ton of mundane recollections about the life of the author, and it's very unremarkable. The writer has a nice way with words, and the book was diverting enough. But it does feel like he sold the book because of the 9/11 connection, and the other information is a coming of age story that will be mostly forgettable to readers.
This memoir is written by a young man in his twenties, searching for success as a writer. It is an honest, detailed account of his struggles in NYC and his personal life. While not unlike other coming-of-age stories, his has the unusual twist of the WTC disaster, which would make any person second guess the meaning of life. Although I was conflicted with his view and treatment of women, I could relate with the "twenty-something" dream in a big city.
A simple, honest memoir about an ambitious twentysomething guy with literary aspirations from the Midwest who moves to New York City, finds a job in marketing while trying to get published, and survives the World Trade Center attacks. Fresh, frequently humorous, and refreshingly unembellished.
I did not read the synopsis on the back of the book, just plunged right in, because it looked like a compelling memoir. The writer's unexpected encounter with history (that's a clunky way to describe it but I'm trying to avoid spoiling it) is hinted at, and you figure out it may be coming, but it still unfolds powerfully.
I went to school with Bryan, although younger than him so he probably has no idea I exist. I was very interested to read his encounter of 9/11 since I knew he’d been there at the time ( from news reports soon after). I was not impressed with his style of writing, though many hometown details caught my attention I ended up skimming until I hit 9/11, read the part and then skimmed to the end.
Spectacularly elegant by virtue of its simple honesty, Bryan Charles carefully cultivates his own singular voice in order to tell the story of his arrival in NYC and his struggle to carve out a new kind of life there. He recounts his early, listless days and returns frequently to his dream of writing for the sake of writing. He describes his various romantic conquests in that rare sort of third-person-first-person detachment which makes everything feel numb and stands in such sharp contrast to the moments that actually hurt. And it's all chugging along, life as he knows it, monotonously and predictably until the fall of 2001, when his high-powered job at Morgan Stanley in the south tower of the world trade center suddenly doesn't look so good.
The title tells the story, because in the end Charles does indeed come to realize that we are mercilessly forced to remember and accept the road along which we've passed, but that will never prohibit us from choosing a new, better path forward. This is a great New York story, it's honest and brave and inspiring.
"My Mom has left my old tapes in the car. I'd put one in and was singing along. 'Whenever whenever whenever I feel fine I'm gonna walk away from all this or that.' The trees were skeletal, the skies were swollen, the color of steel. The roads and parking lots salted white."
Fast, simple, and brutally, deliciously honest. The Bryan Charles at the beginning of this memoir is nervous, artistically ambitious and doesn't always make great decisions when it comes to women. Then he's in the World Trade Center when the planes hit. It doesn't change everything so much as it brightens things. His anxiety heightens, but so does his need to do something meaningful with more hours of his day. And just as in the early chapters Charles talks about his bowel movements as if to make sure we know he is a whole and mundanely debased person, after September 11, he admits to walking through his hometown mall in hopes of being recognized as That Guy Who Survived. This is the nature of survival: slow, unpretty, important, nothing like a firefighter racing into a burning building and everything like living in a burning building.
This coming-of-age memoir captures the questions, attitudes and nature of relationships of a twentysomething American uncomfortably chasing dreams. There's an anxious lilt to Charles' voice, a sense of confused urgency which creates a tone that feels real without becoming whiny or self-absorbed. I still favor Charles' other works, but appreciate the honesty and lack of sugar-coating in this memoir.
The last half of the book focuses largely on working in the World Trade Center and what it was like to experience 9/11. Call me cynical, but I wondered if the book would have been published without devoting so much space to 9/11, or if the publisher had advised the manuscript veer heavily in that direction. It feels like the memoir is really two separate works.
The best memoirs are those in which the author doesn't sugarcoat the truth. Bryan Charles is not always a likable protagonist, but this memoir of moving from small-city Michigan to New York City in the late 90s, then surviving the World Trade Center attack, feels like real life. It's full of details that wouldn't mean anything to anyone outside New York -- does it matter that the laundrmat is on Nassau Avenue? That he's taking the 4 train, specifically, downtown? But I am in New York, and I found this to be an absorbing and enjoyable read.
Excellent book especially for any artist or for those thinking of moving to New York. It also has a real, dry and genuine insight into the events of September 11th, 2001. Bryan Charles is a fantastic author.