In Hanuman's Hands: A Memoir

When Rao describes his experiences as a homeless drug addict on the streets of Chicago as a battle for his soul between the Hindu gods Hanuman and Kali, it's easy to dismiss his assertions as evidence of a mental breakdown—even he entertains that possibility. But it's this divine intervention, the culmination of a family mythology handed down over generations, that gives Rao the strength to tackle his recovery: “I'll be straight because that's what Hanuman wants,” he tells a therapist. “He'll kick my ass if I fuck up again.” The multilayered narrative skillfully shifts between Rao's downward spiral that kicked into high gear during his freshman year of college, his first months at a no-nonsense halfway house and stories from his Indian ancestors. Even readers who have become jaded to the generic conventions of the addiction memoir—criminal acts to support the growing habit, pushing away one's closest friends and so on—will find themselves engrossed in Rao's spiritual journey, from the descent into a very personal hell to the slow climb back. (Rao returned to college and eventually graduated from the Iowa Writers' Workshop.) Wherever his writing goes from here, this powerful debut is a signal to pay attention. (May)