Falling upwards Living the dream, one panic attack at a time

Restaurateur Fall exposes the underside of the nightlife industry in a captivating debut memoir that traces his own meteoric career and concurrent attempts to come to grips with a debilitating anxiety disorder. Fall found early success with an ethos of personal transformation ("If you can turn an empty space into Studio 54, why not do that to yourself?") that helped propel him from a "hairy, broke, pathological liar from a broken home" into a "gatekeeper, tastemaker, Dionysus in black nail polish" who opened his first Los Angeles watering hole at 23 and more than a dozen bars and restaurants by 29. But while this philosophy led to success, it also spurred dissatisfaction, as the "more successful I became, the more removed I was from my sense of self." A tipping-point panic attack at 29 pushed him to seek help. The author's healing process involved finding a therapist, reframing the mental narrative surrounding his anxiety, and taking antidepressants, though he advises readers that their own recoveries might look different, as "there are no 'right' ways to be happy and successful other than the ones your intuition is pulling you towards." With unvarnished honesty, Fall renders his attempts to heal amid a pressure-cooker service industry culture, rife with media-reinforced stereotypes of angry, knife-throwing "bad-boy chefs," which can leave little space for emotional vulnerability. It's a raw and riveting account. (Sept.)

A successful California restaurateur dishes on his "fall" into success. In 2014, then-23-year-old Fall took a chance and opened his first bar. His idea was simple: to reinvigorate a staid Los Angeles nightclub scene and transform it into an experience that intermingled "ideas and friendships and art." The popularity of this bar and others quickly transformed Fall into a "thing," but he soon realized that his real interest was food and creating unique dining experiences. His limited knowledge of the restaurant world had come through a mother who had managed a Skid Row cafe. Despite countless challenges, the author dove into his work with Nighthawk, a diner named after the 1942 Edward Hopper painting. Nighthawk featured a "live DJ 'jukebox' " and served breakfast and breakfast-themed cocktails like his famous "spiked cereal milk." Other mixed media--style restaurants followed, and Fall eventually landed in Forbes magazine's "30 under 30." Meanwhile, he found himself reckoning with an extreme anxiety that threatened to shut down his creative output. Pulling no punches, the author discusses how therapy and medication helped him navigate his mental health issues and allowed him to embrace neurodivergence as the source for the "loose balloon" ideas he credits for his successes. Remaining authentic and vulnerable in spaces overrun by toxic masculinity also became part of his regimen to remain healthy. "I'd always grown up with the cliché that men hate to talk, but it's just not true," he writes. "All you need is a few positive experiences to realize that wow--talking about our feelings actually makes things better." In that spirit, Fall discusses Alan, his anxiety, and Bob, his inner critic, with refreshing openness and humor. At a time when the highly flawed alpha male credo of "stronger, harder, better" still dominates ideas about success, Fall's book offers a welcome take on both masculinity and the nature of creativity. A quirky and inspiring story. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.