<p>In <em>I'm Never Fine</em>, a collage memoir of essays and poetry, Joseph Lezza shouts in the dark from the backseat of a stranger's car, a ditch on the Italian coast, a forest outside the arctic, and from the bottom of a shaving cream can.</p><p>When Joseph caught himself wishing necrotizing skin infections upon unhurried retirees in the self checkout lane, and fantasized about loud-talking commuters making quick friends with the underside of a steamroller, he began to wonder if he was fine.</p><p>Of all the things Joseph Lezza could have been, he certainly wasn't fine.</p><p>The "fine" he'd adopted watching his father succumb to cancer was beginning to wane. It could no longer be used as a shield to melt the face off of anyone who dared inquire. All the "fines" prophesized in every article, every book, and every inspirational meme-courtesy of every armchair expert with a pulse and internet connection-had lost their value.</p><p>When Joseph realized he was facing a future that would find him standing over the carcass of an overzealous Costco greeter, one thing became clear: moving on required looking back.&nbsp;</p><p>This memoir is an autopsy of perceived missteps, a conclusion to unfinished conversations, and a reframing of flawed judgments through the eyes of a young man in search of a feeling. Search for that feeling with Joseph Lezza in <em>I'm Never Fine</em>.</p>