I Am Homeless if This Is Not My Home by Lorrie Moore

I remember ANAGRAMS, the first Lorrie Moore book I ever read; I must’ve been about 15. Reading this, I recalled how that book struck me. It was startling, strange, and singular, not really like anything else I had encountered. And this appealingly weird story of a man beset by grief—he’s waiting for his brother to die and toting the sentient corpse of his ex-girlfriend to a forensic farm—and a Reconstruction-era landlady writing letters about her mysterious, insinuating border—is also startling, strange, and singular. And also deeply enjoyable—what a gift to be able to write sentences out of your brain that feel wholly your own, unmistakable, funny as hell and sharp as knives.