Roberta Rohbeson begins her book in 1971, in what starts out as a drug-fueled teenage rant that gradually fades into the story of two cross-country trips she made with her father five years earlier -- a story she has kept to herself since she was found wandering the desert covered with blood.
With a teenage.
These stories, the backbone of Roberta\'s short life, include a one-way trip across America fueled by revenge and greed and a vivid cast of characters, starring Roberta\'s dangerous father, the owners of the Knocking Hammer Bar-cum-slaughterhouse, and runaway adolescents.
Darkly funny and resonant with humanity, Cruddy, masterfully intertwines Roberta\'s stories -- part Easy Rider and part bipolar Wizard of Oz.
The girl is Roberta Rohbeson, and her rant against a world bounded by the cruddy top bedroom of a cruddy rental house on a very cruddy mud road soon becomes a detailed account of another story, one that she has kept silent since she was eleven.
Now the truth can finally be revealed about the mysterious day long ago when the authorities found a child, calmly walking in the boiling desert, covered with blood.
On a September night in 1971, a few days after getting busted for dropping acid, a sixteen-year-old curls up in the corner of her ratty bedroom and begins to write.
With a teenager\'s eye for freakish detail and a nervous ability to make the most horrible scenes seem hilarious, Cruddy is a stunning achievement.
These stories, the backbone of Roberta\'s short life, include a one-way trip across America fueled by revenge and greed and a vivid cast of characters, starring Roberta\'s dangerous father, the owners of the Knocking Hammer Bar-cum-slaughterhouse, and runaway adolescents.
Darkly funny and resonant with humanity, Cruddy, masterfully intertwines Roberta\'s stories -- part Easy Rider and part bipolar Wizard of Oz.
The girl is Roberta Rohbeson, and her rant against a world bounded by the cruddy top bedroom of a cruddy rental house on a very cruddy mud road soon becomes a detailed account of another story, one that she has kept silent since she was eleven.
Now the truth can finally be revealed about the mysterious day long ago when the authorities found a child, calmly walking in the boiling desert, covered with blood.
On a September night in 1971, a few days after getting busted for dropping acid, a sixteen-year-old curls up in the corner of her ratty bedroom and begins to write.
Illustrations.
Roberta Rohbeson begins her book in 1971, in what starts out as a drug-fueled teenage rant that gradually fades into the story of two cross-country trips she made with her father five years earlier -- a story she has kept to herself since she was found wandering the desert covered with blood
