Join George Singleton as he gets his dogs to promise they won’t use his new gardens as a Porta-Potty, learns about his not-so-famous relations, and generally charms anyone sensible enough to read this delightful book.
In this collection of fascinating and curious essays, Singleton explains how he came to be a writer (he blames barbecue), why he still writes his first draft by hand (someone stole his typewriter), and what motivated him to run marathons (his father gave him beer). In eccentric world-according-to-George fashion, Laugh-In’s Henry Gibson is to blame for Singleton’s literary education, and Aristotle would’ve been a failed philosopher had he grown up in South Carolina.
Word of advice? Buckle up and relish this ride.
“George Singleton is a very funny man. He is also angry, honest, soft hearted, devoted to his animals and his friends. He attributes his having become a writer to barbecue, and to having driven a garbage truck, both of which arguments are convincing. He could write about a tootsie roll and keep me reading. He can enter a room, breathe in the air, breathe out a story.” —Abigail Thomas, author of Safekeeping and A Three Dog Life
