"Schiz and Wits" is a memoir that doesn’t just tell a story—it lives it. Branden-Lee Mikol Butler lays his life bare with a rare mix of brutal honesty, street wisdom, spiritual reflection, and unapologetic self-awareness. This book is not your typical coming-of-age narrative. It is part confession, part rebellion, and part love letter to survival—to grit, hustle, and learning the hard way.

From the first chapter, Butler’s voice grabs you. Conversational, sharp, and sometimes wild, it reads like a long voice note from someone who has seen a lot, messed up a lot, but is still standing — still trying to make sense of the chaos. He recounts his childhood in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania with a mix of nostalgia and pain. We meet his mother, his tough-as-nails grandparents, and a parade of teachers, girls, bosses, coaches, and friends — each leaving a mark, good or bad.

What sets this memoir apart is its lack of pretense. Butler isn’t trying to make himself look polished or poetic. He talks about schizophrenia, sleep studies, heartbreaks, the prison pipeline, sex, street fights, family drama, racism, and the ugly truth behind student loans — all with a clarity that punches you in the gut. And it’s funny, too — in that dark, awkward, “I probably shouldn’t laugh at this” kind of way.

This isn’t a sanitized redemption story. It’s a chaotic climb, littered with mistakes and moments of brilliance. Butler’s reflections on race, masculinity, poverty, and mental health are not academic — they are lived, raw, and deeply human. And while some parts feel rough or even problematic, they are undeniably real.

You don’t read this book to be comforted. You read it to understand what it means to grow up with one foot in the system and the other fighting to stay out of it — to see the world through the eyes of someone who has been labeled “crazy,” “criminal,” or “lost,” but never stopped believing he was more than any label.

If you want polished prose and a neat narrative arc, look elsewhere. But if you're looking for something real—something that might unsettle you, inspire you, and make you rethink what a “success story” looks like — Schiz and Wits delivers.
(Easter Egg Code is not in the digital book version)