Hillbilly Hustle: Order the Spinach Special!

One of my favorite authors at the Louisville Book Festival was, hands down, Wesley Browne. We talked about everything from Jason Isbell's music to True Crime documentaries and how someone called him and wanted him to be on one, but he couldn't. Even though he's an attorney, he doesn't have any murder cases going on. Isn't that sad?!

Book I Haven't Read Yet: Hillbilly Hustle, by Wesley Browne

Why I Haven't Read It? I'm giving it to my dad for Christmas, then demanding to borrow it when he finishes reading.

Should You Read It? That's a resounding Hell to the Yeah.

So the main character Knox owns a pizza parlor and also has to care for his parents, for whatever reason. Maybe they are in poor health. Probably. Something happens during a poker game, and Knox has to start dealing marijuana out of the pizza shop!!

Silas House wrote a book endorsement (or "testimonial") in the front pages of HH. I really respect Silas, so ima go ahead and leave this here:

"This tour de force deftly walks the tightrope of being both a page-turner and a language-driven debut that firmly establishes a solid new voice. Cinematic, lyrical, and often very funny, Hillbilly Hustle is ripe with memorable characters and a vivid sense of place that sheds light on a whole new kind of Appalachia that's never been seen before."

-- Silas House, author of Southernmost

Comments

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a little ashamed

I've been feeling a little guilty lately. I think I'm sort of obsessed with my own blog. Seriously, I adore coming home for lunch in the middle of my workday. My plan is always to sit down and write. It's the perfect time to work. There are no distractions (other than the hungry rumble in my tummy) or reasons that I shouldn't be able to churn out a good amount of words before I head back to the world of checking account deposits and cash-in tickets. However, I find that when I come home for lunch, all I want to do is blog. My reader is full as a good girl's Christmas stocking, and then there's my own post -- just waiting to be written. Something alarmingly witty, for sure. Something that will generate the multiple comments I will hungrily read from my cell phone when I sneak out for a cigarette break at 4:00. So, I avoid the writing -- you know, of the fiction variety. I sit here, instead watching the text fill the blank screen of a New Po...

Too Many Books

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