From the author of Blue Like Jazz comes a road-trip memoir about three months spent crossing the united states within a Volkswagen camping van, wondering out-loud when there is more to life than nine-to-five jobs, compared to the ruts the whole planet seems to be stuck in. Follow Don and Paul as they dive headlong in to the deepest of human questions and discover answers outside terms?answers that have to be experienced to become believed.

Day 1: ‘Outings like ours are greener lawn left unknown for fear of thinking about Through Painted Deserts: Light, God, and Beauty for the Open up Road trite sayings; sayings that are sometimes true. But our close friends back live an lifetime under the pounds and knowing of times; a place we are slowly escaping; a global growing fainter per hour as well as the mile.’

Time 13: ‘It feels again that we are leaving who we were, shifting in to the people we will become, hopefully, people who have some type of answers, some kind of thing to believe tht is practical of beauty, of romance. A thing that would describe the red glow against Paul’s encounter, the red shine that seems to be coming from the gaming console . ‘Did you notice the engine light is lit, bud?’ I ask . . .’

Day time 83: ‘I sit in the van, looking forward to her to turn out when I see a window in one of the classrooms open, and a back pack comes falling out, spilling several books onto the lawn. After the back pack comes Elida, dropping atop the pack and laying low, peeking back to the window to find out if the instructor observed. She gathers her books, reaches into the classroom and closes the window, then runs toward the van as if this had been a prison break.’

As you go through Painted Deserts, you’ll quickly realize this is not just one single man’s accounts of acquiring light, God, and beauty for the open street. Rather, this reserve maps the trip you’re already journeying . . . or soon will be.