Now here’s a lady who has led an interesting life–or, I should say, an interesting life has led her. Born to a more-or-less white trash family; mom a missile scientist, dad a hopeless alcoholic; moved all around the country and, eventually, the world; hangs out with eccentric gay guys who are usually either remodeling houses with piles of human feces in the front room or living it up in Cancun with nineteen-year-old Mexican sailor boys; and the list goes on. Except for the fact that Gillespie uses the word “turd” way more often, her writing reminds me of the work of a friend of mine. It was a quick read (I finished it in a day), but altogether enjoyable, with heartbreaking moments of remembered loss and missed opportunities.

Tags: Hollis Gillespie, nonfiction