That cousin who climbs the highest switch-back trail, risks lightening strikes, runs out of trail mix, jumps over a snake, and does it all for the sake of the view.
Memoirs can do two things—they can tell an adventure story so captivating, that you have to rip through the pages to see how it will all turn out, or they can take a quiet ordinary life and turn it to be so revealing that there are life lessons that ring as raw and true—Joe Blair’s memoir is one of the few that manages to do both. Blair thought he was going to be traveler—that he would have avant-garde adventures on his motorcycle and Jack Kerouac his way through the country with a notebook and pen. Instead 15 years later, living in small-town Iowa, Joe is an air-conditioning repairman, struggling to stay faithful in his marriage, and feeling beaten by the autism diagnosis of his young son. When the Iowa River floods a state disaster is declared, and heroic measures are suddenly needed—in rendering language and with stunning insight, Joe’s observes the flooding of the river, detailing how his ordinary life has suddenly turned extraordinary, only to recognize it’s been that way all along.