John McNally has been a writer for over thirty years, but it hasn't been easy, and this collection of essays is proof. He likens the relationship between a writer and his stories to -

"... that of an analyst to her patient. Our job is to meet regularly with our patient (the story) with the hope that each session will bring about a series of illuminations that lead, ultimately, to an epiphany. The process of revision is that meeting ..."

And, like therapy, sometimes these revisions only take a month or two, but sometimes they can go on for years, and sometimes, if a story "has no subtext," it will never take shape, will be " like chasing a mirage."

And McNally admits to having had more than his share of such chases, after stories and novels he worked on for years, and, finally, just had to "let them go."

THE PROMISE OF FAILURE is much more than just an instructional handbook for aspiring writers - although it certainly IS a fine specimen of that. It is also a brutally honest memoir, revealing the growing-up difficulties of always being the fat kid, the child of blue collar parents, moving around between trailer parks and crappy apartments. He also tells of his lifelong struggles with depression, a father who couldn't understand him, two failed marriages, dieting, drinking, drugs, and crushing debt, mostly incurred from student loans for advanced degrees, and from bad decisions.

But McNally has had his successes too, having written or edited more than a dozen books. (One, THE BOY WHO REALLY, REALLY WANTED TO HAVE SEX: THE MEMOIR OF A FAT KID, I really, REALLY want to read.) Reflecting on a couple early successes, he admits that "Being 'on top' ... wasn't all it was cracked up to be." And he lets us in on publisher advances that don't go far, poorly planned book tours, sometimes finding only a few in attendance, getting sick in hotel rooms in strange cities, and other stresses and expenses of being on the road. He writes too of petty feuds , jealousy and hurt feelings within the ranks of fellow writers, all struggling to make a living, many - like McNally himself - teaching.

One of the pleasures of reading these essays is the wry, self-deprecating sense of humor sprinkled throughout. We hear, for example, about "Chunkyobdangle," a play McNally wrote in the fourth grade in which he starred as an overweight superhero. Or a science fiction story attempted with a hero named Nidfo.

On the other hand, the final essay, "194 Days, " about the final weeks, months and days of a dear friend from high school, may reduce you to tears. It is raw, direct and straight from the heart.

McNally says he's spent most of his life in fiction, dabbling some in TV and film writing, and that essays are something new for him, that writing these pieces was hard work. Well, he made them look easy. I was quickly caught up in every one of them. And I suspect writers of every stripe will feel the same way. Very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER ( )