Two Dollar Radio, 192 pages, paperback, $16.00

Dear Mr. McClanahan,

I hope this missive finds you well (you know, if you ever actually read this). I recently read your book/memoir/artifact Crapalachia. According to the cover, it’s a “biography of a place.” That it is, but it’s also much more. Given the plethora of things Crapalachia is, categorizing it is impossible, which means there’s no way to judge it based on the idiosyncrasies of a genre or combination of genres. Without classification and guidelines to judge it by, whatever I wrote would be even more obviously wrapped in educated subjectivity than any other review. To get out of that situation, I decided to write you this letter. It might be the easy way out, but it’s also the only way to do your book justice.

By reading Crapalachia I learned that you like making lists, so here’s a list of things I want to thank you for:

• Thank you for writing Crapalachia and sharing it with the world.
• Thank you for being honest about your dishonesties.
• Thank you for making me think of adjectives such as “fresh,” “unique,” “charming,” and “weird.”
• Thank you for having your own style and not being afraid.
• Thank you for being so informative about OCD.
• Thank you for sharing the story of the Greenbier Ghost.

I also want to thank you for writing so openly about your Uncle Nathan. You see, I had a friend in a wheelchair who couldn’t talk. His name was Jacob. He passed away in 2011, but his memory is something I carry with me every day. The humor in Crapalachia made me laugh a few times, and it would’ve made him laugh as well. Every time I chuckled, Jacob’s crooked smile came to mind. That’s priceless.

Folks will probably ask what I thought of this memoir. I plan on telling them Crapalachia is a heartfelt narrative about growing up, friends, family, human nature, love, going to school, history, death, and rural West Virginia. I’ll tell them you wrote an homage to everyday things that are somehow extraordinary: a woman convincing a doctor of removing her cancer-free breast, prank calls, exploding babies, cerebral palsy, feeding tubes, kids that become criminals, Kansas’s “Dust in the Wind,” and emails from Jesus. Last but not least, I’ll remember to tell them that it’s a wonderful eulogy to a time and a place that are at once uniquely yours and shared with/by your readers.

On page 138 there’s a long list of names of people you love or loved at one point in time. “These are the names that are written inside my heart, but my heart will die one day,” you write. “So I want these names to stay inside this book forever, but if this book is needed for fire, then set this book on fire. Then these names will live inside the other names, inside the invisible ashes. There is enough fire burning inside my secret heart to keep them warm for a long time.” Well, I have lists of people, places, songs, and books in my heart. On the list of books, Crapalachia is now the most recent entry.

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Gabino Iglesias is writer, journalist, and book reviewer living in Austin, TX. He’s the author of Gutmouth and a few other things no one will ever read. You can find him on Twitter at @Gabino_Iglesias.