Last night my friend Robert Hoge launched his memoir, Ugly.
I read part of this book a few years back at a writers’ retreat and I was struck then – as I am again now – by how this book, which has the potential to be yet another “traumoir”, is nothing of the sort.
It is utterly unflinching, moving, beautifully written, and utterly without self-pity. It is brave and frank and open, not unlike the man himself.
His website is here and Ugly, published by Hachette Australia, can be found in all good bookstores.