Some books need to be read with your ears.
And no title in recent memory compares to Dirtbag Queen: A Memoir of My Mother.
We heard author Andy Corren interviewed on NPR last month and immediately knew we needed to read the book. With a road trip on the horizon, we opted for the audiobook version instead of the one with all those printed words.
Wow, we’re so glad we chose that route.
Corren possesses a masterful storytelling pace and a voice that feels like David Sedaris and Leslie Jordan created an even gayer baby in a petri dish somewhere.
Corren’s book came out earlier this year after a much-celebrated obituary for his mom appeared in the Fayetteville Observer thrust him into the literary spotlight. If you read it, you’ll get a great idea of what to expect from the full-length book.
The author’s insane childhood provides fodder both relatable and utterly outrageous that may have a bit of color added for effect, but seems entirely too bizarre to be fictionalized much at all.
His late 1970s-era television-watching habits alone make us think we would’ve been really great friends. Maybe even under-the-jungle-gym, part-time playground lovers.
It doesn’t get much better in adulthood for Corren, but he sure makes the most of the crazy cards he’s been dealt over the years. We sincerely hope this gets a feature film treatment because it could be cinematic greatness.
Or better yet, a multi-season TV series on a streamer like Netflix.
We haven’t laughed this hard—or cried, TBH—over a book in a long time.
So if you saw us weeping or guffawing at a stoplight somewhere in Dallas over the past few days, you’ll know why.
Unless it was Tuesday, in which case we were simply getting a really callousy handjob from a guy we picked up outside Hunky’s.
Dirtbag Queen: A Memoir of My Mother
From $14.99
hachettebookgroup.com
Photo via facebook.com/TheRealAndyCorren
