Maybe It’s Me
A Memoir
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- Pre-Order
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- Expected Aug 11, 2026
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- $11.99
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- Pre-Order
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- $11.99
Publisher Description
A raw and riveting memoir of collapse, recovery, and reinvention
For most of his adult life, Adrian Michael Kelly specialized in failure — serial, sometimes comic but also epic failure. Born to a gambling-addicted, compulsively spending mother who left when he was five, and raised by his dad, a haunted and often violent, hard-drinking Scot, Kelly learned failure early and learned it remarkably well: how to be small, how to be safe, how to be self-defeating. By the age of 30, he was larking around abroad, trying (and failing) to write like his literary heroes while mired in bad relationships and dead-end work.
On a gray October morning in 1999, thunderously hungover and sick to death of himself, he boarded a train in Zurich bound for Bergamo and entered the initial, terrifying stages of a months-long collapse, less a psychological than spiritual emergency — full-bore and loud.
Maybe It’s Me recounts what led up to that emergency as well as its aftermath, when Kelly came back to Canada to try to rebuild his life. For a while he did just that, but at the very summit of his hard-won achievements, life and his own folly brought him low again. Chronically unemployed, crippled by hideous back pain, and driven to despair by the mother of all writer’s block, he was divorced and nearly homeless at age 47. But along with how to fail, Kelly knew how not to quit, and he set about the process — long and difficult — of creating a consequential, good-enough life.
Free of self-pity and beautifully told, Maybe It’s Me is for everyone who gets in their own way — and can still have a laugh about it.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In this frustrating self-portrait, Kelly (The Ambassador of What) chronicles his yearslong struggles with depression and his attempts to overcome it. "I may not know much, but I know pain," Kelly writes, detailing how his dejection led him, for example, to ask his wife to work full-time to support him while he worked on his novel and searched for an academic position. The account gains depth when Kelly turns his attention to his childhood, describing his emotionally distant parents as "amputees" missing essential capacities for healthy connection. Meanwhile, his search for relief—through therapy, travel, and occasional teaching gigs—provides some momentum. But Kelly's insight that depression is a mouth that "swallows all the light" can't make up for monotonous storytelling as he recalls drifting through customer service jobs, stewing on his failed ambitions, and enduring bouts of debilitating back pain. Meanwhile, his assertion that embracing daily habits like meditation led him to a "happy transformation" is too thinly explored to provide a satisfying narrative arc or equip readers facing similar challenges with useful advice. Though well-intentioned, this misses the mark.