This is Not the Introduction

Every book begins with a flaming pile of poo. This is that pile.

To write a book, I start with a table of contents. It’s a road map. Or maybe it’s more like a meandering checklist. I never write a book by starting with chapter one, followed by two, then three.

Before I can write chapter one (or seven), I first must wring some garbage out of my fingers. I need to write an “introduction.” This introduction is the lollygagging half-tipsy answer I would give if someone at a dinner party said: “Tell me about your book.”

My first introductions are like my first dovetails. Ugly and gappy, but somehow still held together by rubber bands and mucilage. The tone is wrong. I espouse grandiose ideation. I try to be clever. It’s like, hold my ascot, pocket square and spats because I am going to Write.

Below is the first draft introduction to “The American Peasant.” It is crap. I hated it as soon as I finished it. But there are a few good sentences that might survive…