To Hell I Ride: When a Life Examined Became Worth Living

To Hell I Ride is a raw and unflinching memoir of a contemporary American man struggling to snatch redemption from the jaws of alcohol-fueled defeat. The account weaves through coming of age in the eighties, set against childhood backdrops ranging from Nebraska to California, continuing through his unmoored teenage years in Texas. Then pushing through boozy, post-college stints in Manhattan and LA before settling in a well-guarded bubble in San Antonio to start a family, where he's as comfortable as a fish flopping on a dock.It's an unadulterated, Generation X requiem on pursuing the American dream while fighting internal demons and King Alcohol at every stage. But, thank God, it's not another sappy "quit lit" piece, oozing with congratulatory gibberish and questionable, self-proclaimed life advice.Instead, it's a gripping story of self-immolation and intermittent actualizations, told by a trusting voice, empowered by a full tank of admirable self-awareness. From the glory days of Little League to the gut checks of career dreams falling short and the unexpected challenges of being an ideal husband, the book examines the searing pain and elusive bliss that most of us are all too familiar with, both men and women alike.The vivid prose paints a character experiencing both the joy and hell of coming of age, launching a career, and starting a family under the dark cloud of multigenerational alcoholism.Time-stamped with impressionable pop culture references, the book will surprise those who grew up in the eighties and blew out a few sets of tires trekking over the bumpy road to maturity in the 2000s by being endearing, if not alarmingly, reminiscent. Also, these familiar cultural markers inconspicuously connect us to the author's story and state of mind, adding to the heartbreak felt watching him losing every battle against the bottle.In struggling to cheat the vortex of high expectations and square-toed society (while blinded by Malbec wine and illusions of grandeur), Carter conjures the fleshy coarseness of Charles Bukowski reporting on life seen through a prism as flippant as it is naive. Carter is a dark humorist. And his shrewd attention to life's unseen details brings to mind books like The Cather in the Rye, works by David Foster Wallace, and incredibly (considering the topic) movies like National Lampoon's Vacation and The Cable Guy.To Hell I Ride is a page-turner that sucks you into the writer's world with the head-turning pull of a train wreck or the most binge-able reality show ever made. What I found so different from other books about alcoholism and depression was how the writer extracted risible comedy from the most bottomless pits of despair without undercutting the actual value of penetrating emotion, allowing his dramatic story to unfold naturally with endearing irreverence.Highly recommended reading for anyone who's struggled with this thing called life and appreciates the kind of literary companionship that often feels like an understanding friend, reminding us that we're not alone. And, most importantly, that it's okay to look back at the game tape of our lives and laugh at the absurdity of it all before moving on, better for it.Darkly humorous, engaging, and accessible, the author holds no punches as he tells his story of life's ambition scarred by affliction but revived by newfound hope.

‘We read to know we are not alone” said C S Lewis. Many readers of this work will eventually attest to that statement.To call this work autobiographical would diminish it like calling the best caviar food. The brisk narrative takes us through the writer's life in a linear direction, stopping only in the darkest alleys and byways, in a determined search for the answer to alcohol's great riddle. These diversions have an air of melancholy, revelations, joy, levity, characterized by universal relevance, delivering insight to the reader, of course, but, I believe, to anyone reading it, drinker or not.The writing embodies the most beautiful use of the language. It is as though the writer created several works of art inside the pages. The author's brush uses words to create a montage of paintings that leave an indelible mark on the reader or, I'd imagine soon, viewers. Artistic utilization of past and contemporary events, creative works and personalities (both famous and infamous) is used to create clear understanding and comforting familiarity with the narrator and punctuate the affecting message, making this complex feast easy to digest.In short, the work is poetry in prose.

The author trying to turn every sentence into a "one-liner" made this book exhausting to get through. First of all the majority of the one-liners weren't even funny and second, it made it impossible (for me) to figure out what the heck the author was trying to say.A total waste of $9.

To Hell I Ride is not a how-to book about quitting drinking. It’s takes you down the road of the author’s life, making you wince and laugh out loud along the way. On a long trip, the author re-examines what brought him to the brink of jumping off a bridge. His retelling is riddled with hilariously original analogies. “…somewhere out there in this vast, topsy-turvy world lived a long-suffering priest who still cringes to the point of renouncing his faith, thinking about the time he read the last rights to a serial killer on death row as Donald Duck—- his earnest but unsuccessful attempt to lift the inmate’s bummed out mood as the disbelieving guards strapped him to the chair.”The author’s dark humor masks the pain of his parent’s divorce and subsequent move from his beloved California, as well as his slide into serious alcohol abuse.The value of reading To Hell I Ride lies not steps to a better life but in holding up a mirror for those struggling with addiction.

I purchased this book because I went to middle school with the author. We were not friends, just acquaintances in the classroom. When I heard he wrote a book and heard what it was about, I was hopeful that this book would be an inspiration to read and possibly one to even recommend to friends who struggle in their relationship with alcohol.It was hard to read for several reasons.First, I don’t feel like the author ever grows up. I don’t feel like he ever becomes a better person. There is nothing about his process that makes this a book worth writing. Maybe he has developed more but has left those parts out. We will never know. This is just a sense that I get from his tone in his writing. He was always sarcastic and had a bite to him. I was hoping to see some softness come through due to healing.Second, the story lacks flow. It’s all over the place. He jumps from one time in his life to another and back to a different one. It’s hard to keep up. The organization in this book is missing.Third, he’s a narcissist. That’s all I hear as I read his words. I don’t hear an effort to be a better person. I feel like he still not even a nice person. The only way I can figure out how this book got published is that he has surrounded himself with “yes“ people. These are the people that tell him every idea he has is a good one. He’s not ready to receive constructive criticism and make changes. I can’t figure it out.I guess I could’ve left it at this: Reading this book was a waste of my time and my money.