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224 pages, Hardcover
First published September 17, 2019
Indiana history is the history of home building. Crop rotations. Outstanding winters. Their legends are of regular people—men who were strong enough to lift a wheelbarrow one-handed, women who could bake swell sugar cream pies.
…Hoosiers are some behind-the-scenes motherfuckers.
Even Larry Bird, who is their most famous athlete, is most famous for being white. He’s an American man. Famous for being white. He is Indiana.

…I remember my mom after dad died, and I remember she had two modes. She was either staring off at nothing and holding her face, or she was slamming things around and cussing under her breath. And one time I told her that she was always angry, and she said that if she wasn’t supposed to be angry she wouldn’t be angry.
“When you’re thirsty it’s because your body needs a drink,” she told me. “When you’re angry it’s because your body needs something else.”
“What?” I asked her.
“You heard what I said.”
“What does your body need? When you’re angry.”
She scooped me up and held me to her. “Who knows?”
I think she was right. Sometimes you feel so terrible that all you know is that you need something, and when people feel that way, they go out looking. My uncle went out looking for drugs. My mother went out and found death. I think those shooter kids go out looking for violence. They think it will stop the ache they have, but my guess is it doesn’t…
I think, if you asked an adult, they’d say it just gives them more pain, but that’s probably not true. It probably gives them different pain.
I feel like there are two types of misery in this world. There’s not getting what you want and being angry. And there’s getting what you want and being sad.


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