Possible Side EffectsI worry that I’m not being fair to Augusten Burroughs. The special place in my heart for gay men with dysfunctional families, obsessive-compulsive tendencies and strong ties to New York City who write semi-autobiographical memoirs – well, that place is already pretty filled by David Rakoff and David Sedaris.

The comparison is particularly strong with David Sedaris: both in committed long-term relationships, Northerners with Southern roots, compulsive smokers (although Burroughs has now transferred his addiction to nicotine gum), larger-than-life mothers, adolescent friendships with tough ballsy girls, a series of humiliating jobs and childhoods dominated by intricate self-imposed rituals.

And okay, maybe that could describe a lot of people. But their styles of writing are so similar - and Sedaris got to me first. So it’s hard for me to objectively appreciate Burroughs.

Anyway, “Possible Side Effects.” It’s a collection of essays, in no chronological order. He writes about his love for his dogs, the curse of chapped hands, alcoholism, getting hooked on nicotine gum and some very disturbing episodes from his childhood.

It’s those sections about his childhood that reminded me too much of “A Beautiful Mind.” Remember when that movie was winning sackfuls of awards? It was about a schizophrenic math prodigy. I couldn’t bear that movie (or “Shine” with Geoffrey Rush) because whatever uplifting message it may have had was drowned for me beneath the horror of not being in control of your own mind.

So debilitating mental illness will never be something I look for in my recreational entertainment, and Burroughs delivers plenty of it through the character of his mother. She suffered from a glittering, manic and magnetic psychosis. (You’ve probably encountered someone like that in your own life, especially if you got a liberal arts degree in college.) It was difficult for me to read while experiencing what was essentially a protracted wince.

Verdict: 5 out of 10. That probably says more about me than about Burroughs, but hey, it’s my review.