In this memoir, Jason Schmidt tells the story of growing up with an abusive father, who contracted HIV and ultimately died of AIDS when Jason was a teenager.

Jason Schmidt wasn't surprised when he came home one day during his junior year of high school and found his father, Mark, crawling around in a giant pool of blood. Things like that had been happening a lot since Mark had been diagnosed with HIV, three years earlier. Jason's life with Mark was full of secrets—about drugs, crime, and sex. If the straights—people with normal lives—ever found out any of those secrets, the police would come. Jason's home would be torn apart. So the rule, since Jason had been in preschool, was never to tell the straights anything. A List of Things That Didn't Kill Me is a funny, disturbing memoir full of brutal insights and unexpected wit that explores the question: How do you find your moral center in a world that doesn't seem to have one?

Now in paperback, this first oral history of the most nihilistic of all pop movements brings the sound of the punk generation chillingly to life with 50 new pages of depraved testimony. "Please Kill Me" reads like a fast-paced novel, but the tragedies it contains are all too human and all too real. photos.

A deeply personal collection of poetry and art by the award-winning actor, comedian, and composer. With a poetic voice that is by turns lyrical and plainspoken, Charlyne Yi writes about the uncertainty of relationships, the absurdity of societal expectations, family trauma, and identity. In this intimate collection, you’ll find poems and accompanying line illustrations that are playful and profound, sometimes darkly funny, and often acutely moving. “Direct, personal and attention holding. It’s Yi as you may not have seen or heard her before . . . In short bursts that barely fill a page, often accompanied by line illustrations to underscore them, the poetic voice in Yi’s first book of poetry can be alternately angry, playful, blunt, and lyrical.” —The MetroWest Daily News “It’s clear that the reader is about to embark on a literary journey marked by an acceptance—and worship—of all things tender, open, sensitive, authentic, and human. It also offers ideas on kindness, race, culture . . . a testimony to being alive—it’s powerful in its quietness, its exactness. It’s soft, real, and to the point.” —Little Infinite

ALICE FEENEYS NEW YORK TIMES AND INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER “Boldly plotted, tightly knotted—a provocative true-or-false thriller that deepens and darkens to its ink-black finale. Marvelous.” —AJ Finn, author of The Woman in the Window My name is Amber Reynolds. There are three things you should know about me: 1. I’m in a coma. 2. My husband doesn’t love me anymore. 3. Sometimes I lie. Amber wakes up in a hospital. She can’t move. She can’t speak. She can’t open her eyes. She can hear everyone around her, but they have no idea. Amber doesn’t remember what happened, but she has a suspicion her husband had something to do with it. Alternating between her paralyzed present, the week before her accident, and a series of childhood diaries from twenty years ago, this brilliant psychological thriller asks: Is something really a lie if you believe it's the truth?

“A blazing memoir in essays” (Entertainment Weekly) that explores the ever-shifting definitions of what it means to be black (and a man) in America. An NPR Best Book of the Year A Washington Independent Review of Books Favorite of the Year A Finalist for the NAACP Image Award A Finalist for the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award for Nonfiction A Finalist for the Thurber Prize for American Humor Longlisted for the PEN/Diamonstein-Spielvogel Award for the Art of the Essay For Damon Young, existing while black is an extreme sport. The act of possessing black skin while searching for space to breathe in America is enough to induce a ceaseless state of angst, where questions such as “How should I react here, as a Professional Black Person?” and “Will this white person’s potato salad kill me?” are forever relevant. Both a celebration of the idiosyncrasies and distinctions of blackness and a critique of white supremacy and how we define masculinity, What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker is a hilarious and honest debut that chronicles Young’s efforts to survive while battling and making sense of the various neuroses his country has given him. “Young delivers a passionate, wryly bittersweet tribute to Black life in majority-white Pittsburgh . . . A must read.” —Booklist (starred review) “Young’s charm and wit make these essays a pleasure to read; his candid approach makes them memorable.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

A compassionate, shame-free guide for your darkest days “A one-of-a-kind book . . . to read for yourself or give to a struggling friend or loved one without the fear that depression and suicidal thoughts will be minimized, medicalized or over-spiritualized.”—Kay Warren, cofounder of Saddleback Church What happens when loving Jesus doesn’t cure you of depression, anxiety, or suicidal thoughts? You might be crushed by shame over your mental illness, only to be told by well-meaning Christians to “choose joy” and “pray more.” So you beg God to take away the pain, but nothing eases the ache inside. As darkness lingers and color drains from your world, you’re left wondering if God has abandoned you. You just want a way out. But there’s hope. In I Love Jesus, But I Want to Die, Sarah J. Robinson offers a healthy, practical, and shame-free guide for Christians struggling with mental illness. With unflinching honesty, Sarah shares her story of battling depression and fighting to stay alive despite toxic theology that made her afraid to seek help outside the church. Pairing her own story with scriptural insights, mental health research, and simple practices, Sarah helps you reconnect with the God who is present in our deepest anguish and discover that you are worth everything it takes to get better. Beautifully written and full of hard-won wisdom, I Love Jesus, But I Want to Die offers a path toward a rich, hope-filled life in Christ, even when healing doesn’t look like what you expect.