Drunk Mom, by Jowita Bydlowska (April/Doubleday Canada)
Light your torches and sharpen your pitchforks — this book is going to piss off a lot of people. But Bydlowska, a wonderful essayist, doesn’t seem to be the type of writer who cares what you think. Look at that title again. This is a memoir. The first line is “One evening I find a baggie of cocaine.” The book contains no dedication, but rather an apology to her son. For Saturday nights and Sunday mornings.