“When I was growing up in Mississippi’s Piney Woods, everything I liked was either illegal, immoral or fattening.

During my misspent youth and middle age, from standing in a lynch mob to staying in a Cairo brothel to surviving a coup attempt on the king of Morocco to suffering some three dozen in-my-sleep seizures that dislocated my shoulder nine times, I continued to write fiction and nonfiction.

The short version of my story is that I went to bed sober one night when I was 15 and woke up drunk the next day and I was 51. Despite all the dangerous and debilitating incidents in my life, I thought I had as much chance of staying sober as a one-legged man had of winning an ass-kicking contest. But, I’ve been clean and sober for many consecutive years. How that happened and what it has been like is an important part of my story.

I’m now living back down in Mississippi, of which my Ole Miss friends and I said, “If God wanted to give the world an enema, he’d stick the tube in Mississippi.”

Hi, my name is George.”