I first encountered David Carr’s tumultuous story in an in-depth autobiographical article he wrote for the New York Times Magazine, entitled “Me and My Girls.”

The tell-all piece described the life of a man consumed by alcohol and cocaine, a crack journalist turned crack addict, who once left his six-month-old twin daughters in his car for two hours while he got high, in the dead of winter. This incident eventually led to Carr’s turning point, but it wasn’t his first time bottoming out.

In Night of the Gun, Carr faces his drug-addled recollections head on, in a candid writing style that is both self-deprecating and narcissistic. Delving into his personal history using the techniques of investigative journalism, Carr conducted more than 60 interviews with old acquaintances, family members, drug dealers, counsellors, lawyers and friends. As a result, he was able to unearth the truth buried in his checkered past.

Split into two parts, the first section of the book is dedicated to Carr’s years of addiction. His detailed accounts of crazy nights snorting golf-ball sized quantities of cocaine, DUIs, assault charges and befriending strippers, are gripping yarns, but they also serve as a platform for Carr to retell his collection of trophy addict stories. In one excerpt from an insightful conversation with an ex-girlfriend named Doolie, Carr writes, “She said I liked to collect stories, my own most avidly.”

After finishing six months of treatment in a “shithole,” obtaining custody of his daughters and getting his family of three off welfare, Carr faced an even greater obstacle: himself. As everything came together, he realized the one thing he hadn’t changed was the foundation of his true self. The animal inside remained.

His redemption comes in the second portion of the book, after Carr sought counselling to become the “man he was pretending to be.” He discusses his love for his children and the newfound respect he has for women and himself. As he puts himself back together, Carr ends up remarrying and becomes editor of the Twin Cities Reader, before moving onto the Washington City Paper and ultimately landing a coveted position as a columnist with the New York Times.

After experiencing a relapse with alcohol, Carr concludes the book with hopeful interviews with his twin girls and ends on a note that most people (especially writers) can relate to: “...we all walk this Earth feeling like we are frauds. The trick is to be grateful and hope the caper doesn’t end anytime soon.”