And the Hits Keep Coming

Is there a 12-step group for people hooked on addiction literature? There should be, given the million little drug stories out there. The latest is about a literary agent turned crack fiend, but is his tale that different from, well, the rest? Match the excerpt to the book (answers below):

1. And then it seemed like everything in me all of a sudden just came out, and I vomited. I vomited on Tito, and he didn’t even feel it. He didn’t even know it. The cats were still getting high. I was so scared. I thought we’d just killed ourselves. I wanted to pray. I wanted to tell these guys to pray.

2. I know we did lots of “more.” That’s what we called coke. We called it more because it was the operative metaphor for the drug. Even if it was the first call of the night, we would say, “You got any more?” because there would always be more—more need, more coke, more calls.

3. He feels the high at first as a flutter, then a roar. A surge of new energy pounds through every inch of him, and there is a moment of perfect oblivion where he is aware of nothing and everything. A kind of peace breaks out behind his eyes.

4. There were a zillion other things to do, but I couldn’t remember what they were. I knew only that I wanted a few more minutes to live in this charmed, enchanted, wired state. I wanted just a little more time to feel free and easy and unhampered before returning to my depression. I wanted more coke. MORE! COKE! NOW!

5. One of the therapists came in to admit me and asked how long I’d been a drug addict. I said that I didn’t think I was as drug addict because I didn’t take any one drug. “Then you’re a drugs addict,” she said. She asked if I had deliberately tried to kill myself. I was insulted by the question.

Answers: (1) Manchild in the Promised Land, (2) The Night of the Gun, (3) Portrait of an Addict as a Young Man, (4) Prozac Nation, (5) Postcards From the Edge.