I wrote Shadows of Sobriety: A Journey of Self-Discovery and Healing a Family Legacy for the one in five Americans who grew up with an alcoholic parent.
For those who lived in homes where love and pain blurred together. For those who never knew which version of their parent they’d get that day. For those who learned to “Don’t Talk. Don’t Trust. Don’t Feel”
“This Man Knew Us”
A woman at Serenity House, an addiction treatment center in Illinois, read my book and immediately called her brother. "This man knew us, knew what we experienced with alcoholic mother." She is now a counselor, dedicating her life to helping people still trapped in the battles we grew up in.
I hear this over and over—readers telling me how my book has given voice to experiences they never had the words for.
"Your book is a powerful statement about addiction’s impact. It can destroy a family in the blink of an eye."
"I read your book twice. There is so much pain, so much beauty, and so much acceptance and forgiveness in these pages."
These words remind me that we—the men and women who grew up in households shaped by addiction—have a common language. A language built not from words spoken, but from silence endured. From watching the people we loved the most become unrecognizable.From trying to make sense of why home never felt safe. And from learning, over time, that we were not alone.
The Silence I Faced Bringing This Book to Life
When I set out to publish Shadows of Sobriety, I encountered a different kind of silence:
📌 Literary agents? If you’re not already a published author, most won’t even consider your work.
📌 Traditional publishers? No agent? No deal.
📌 Media coverage? Silence. Pitch after pitch, no response.
📌 Podcasts? Without a massive platform, it’s nearly impossible to get a seat at the table.
📌 Bookstores? My local Barnes & Noble didn’t just reject Shadows of Sobriety—they made it clear that independent authors don’t fit into their plans.
📌 Libraries? I reached out across the country, offering to speak, to share this story—but inmost cases, I didn’t even get the courtesy of a response.
The very institutions meant to foster conversation, to provide knowledge and healing, often have no space for stories like this.
But I Refuse to Let Silence Win
Even without traditional doors opening, Shadows of Sobriety is finding its way into thehands of those who need it. It has already become a No. 1 new release in multiplecategories on Amazon. It’s available through Ingram, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Audible,Apple Books, and other online platforms.
And most importantly, it’s reaching people. People who have spent years, even decades, searching for the words to describe what they lived through. People who are finally seeing themselves in the pages of a book.
Because this isn’t just about me. It’s about all of us who have carried the weight of growing up in a family affected by addiction. It’s about breaking cycles. It’s about proving that ourpast does not have to define our future.
So if the traditional publishing world won’t open its doors, we will build our own.
If you’ve ever felt unheard, unseen, or dismissed, know this: your story matters. And I’m not giving up on telling mine.
