"The first time I met Ken, I hated him. Ken lived too loud a life, at least by my standards. I had met hundreds of him, hundreds of times before. I was eighteen, in love with my moral compass, perpetually suspicious of anyone whose words came too easily. He was a genre of person I actively avoided--mainstream."

Hsu's writing is outstanding. His memoir centers on his college years at Berkeley in the late 90s, in particular the surprising bond he develops with Ken, the charismatic frat boy who turned out to be deep and kind and a great friend. Halfway through the book, Hsu tells of Ken's murder, and the aftermath. He writes how so many things--songs, movies, books, professional baseball--reminded him of Ken.

He starts out describing his childhood, his "non-stereotypical" 1st-generation Chinese parents, and his passion for writing "earnest yet cynical" zines. All that writing paid off. Self-aware, observant and soaring at times as he explores identity, pop-culture, joy, meaning, and then confronts loss and grief and inexplicable violence. As an elegy to his friend it works, as a memoir about young adulthood it works. He owns up to his short-comings. He tells with regret how he was too much of a "prick" to publish Ken's baseball article in his zine when Ken was alive. Now in his adulthood he is a professor, and this sometimes shows in his writing when he makes references. For instance, he quotes Aristotle's words about friendship among the young. But it still stays true, focusing on his experiences. Readers who are college-educated, especially those who remember the 90s, will like this.