I lost my brother to suicide when he was 26 and I was 30. He was my best friend. I couldn’t understand why even now, 30 years later I never seemed to be able to come to terms with it.
Three years ago I finally found myself with enough to write a novel addressing what is happening to boys and men in the west. I think suicide is a contagion, and the reason my baseline of happiness never really recovered was because deep down I knew things were just getting worse and worse for boys and men.
Writing the novel was cathartic - not a lot of- but somewhat. My wild raging rant is published now and I’ve sold a few copies and got some nice feedback. In the West today 4 out of 5 suicides are boys and men, so I guess I was right.
All those brothers, and dads, and sons. I love you Jim, and I miss you every day.
