“Welcome to beautiful Costa Rica! Come and experience our diverse wildlife. Exhume nests of dead baby turtles and stay up all night while mosquitoes elicit blood from your very soul! Indulge in the local cuisine. Eat rice and beans until the malnutrition engenders hallucinations! Travel west to Guanacaste, to the peninsula that pokes into the Pacific like a fang. Visit the remote, cocoa-dust beaches where rare sea turtles crawl from the seething ocean to nest. Here, masochists will enjoy camping beside the water to leave civilization and all its conveniences behind. Burn bucketfuls of used toilet paper, shiver in an infested bed, and wade crocodile-filled rivers…every single day!”
Lance Pototschnik and his friends must have booked their trip with that agency. Their incredibly affordable “vacation” was meant to be a relaxing time to meditate on the direction of their languid, aimless lives. Instead, they are introduced to hell and the insane diversity of its tortures.
Marooned on a remote sea turtle conservancy with a handful of fellow unanchored souls, Pototschnik, in his hilarious debut memoir, ponders who he essentially is, and what he is likely to become. In Pototschnik, those who have fallen prey to the desolation of broken dreams, the young and the listless, finally find a voice with the talent to cast out demons and turn them into laughs.
Beneath its shell, this rollicking, episodic story is also a treatise about finding your purpose, realizing your full potential, and learning to love your own life. Pototschnik’s very personal book happens to be the story we have all been hoping for.