After years of hard-won sobriety, while rebuilding a life with his wife and young daughter, thirty-five-year-old Joshua Mohr suffers a stroke that uncovers a heart condition requiring surgery. Which requires fentanyl, one of his myriad drugs of choice. This forced âfreelapseâ should fix his heart, but what will it do to his sobriety? And what if it doesnât work?
What The Reviewers Say
Anita Felicelli,
The San Francisco Chronicle
... heartbreaking.
Jeremy Gordon,
The New York Times Book Review
Mohr’s fiction has garnered comparisons to Charles Bukowski, and there’s a similar romantic urgency in his autobiographical storytelling, in the way his impulses lead him toward excess. 'You can be Henry Miller, and I’m Anaïs Nin,' his first wife says, a quote he repeats twice in the book. The repetition is a telling belief in the power of writing — or, more specifically, in the power of Mohr’s identity as a writer — to dredge clarity from self-reflection, no matter one’s transgressions. For much of Model Citizen, Mohr is a charismatic narrator, a role he relishes in life, too.