Laurie Halse Anderson

Sev­er­al years ago a friend and I got lost dri­ving through New Orleans. Even­tu­al­ly we pulled over so I could ask a gas sta­tion atten­dant for directions. He rat­tled off a set of instruc­tions in a Cajun accent, end­ing with, “then take the Hoopalong.” I looked at my road map. No Hoopa­long. I asked him to point it out to me. His finger tapped a sec­tion of my map while he repeat­ed his direc­tions, this time with a hint of impa­tience.… more