As an atheist with a background in fundamentalism, Bucky Sinister was skeptical of 12-step groups when the time came for him to get sober. He was afraid of losing his artistic abilities and had big problems with the higher power concept. In spite of his hesitations, he stuck with the programme and it rewarded him greatly. In "Get Up", he shares the knowledge he gained on his journey, from being afraid of AA philosophies to embracing them, motivating others to join him in their own efforts to get clean. Sinister, a spoken word artist, poet, and performer, well-known on the West Coast for his grabbing, truthful, funny performances, puts out his own story, no frills, no excuses, and no holds barred.He offers a tough-love approach to recovery for all those, like him, who are turned off by traditional 'recovery' books. Sinister got sober in AA and has stayed sober in AA, and now he leads the very group he joined on his path to recovery. In Get Up, he shares the stories and the steps that come from the 'self-identified scum bags who just might save your life'. He talks straight to readers about how to make it work if they can't buy into the programme right away. For example, 'Higher Power' can be a whole lot of things - Thor and metaphor among them. He helps readers to accept the group in spite of their differences, rather than walking away. "Get Up" is the book that Sinister would have bought for himself, with the advice he wanted to hear when he first ventured into recovery.

There are no old drug addicts. That's what everyone says, at least. So how did Chuck get to his forty-third birthday and find himself still neck-deep in this scene? He knows he's the creepy old guy with the drugs or the guy who's too old to be at the party doing everyone else's drugs, but if it ain't broke ...Well, he manages to make it to work at the dwarf whale distributor every day. He may hate that his dearly seedy San Francisco has become overrun with Starbucks, startups, and Lululemon moms, but he makes do every month for the rent-controlled apartment he shares with roommates he never sees. It's not perfect, but it's livable. In the end, though, every addict has that one special vice that can tip them from relatively functional to completely unhinged. For Chuck, it's a new drug that doesn't even have a name yet; it's just a smokable, everlasting gobstopper of mellow high. But when chunks of time begin to disappear and rearrange themselves , he wonders if this really is just another life-ruining drug or if it's something straight out of a Philip K. Dick universe. Word on the street is that this