“There was one good thing and that was the truck. Any time the weight got too heavy you could at least be free, or at least look free. You could climb in the rig and go.”
Singleton wasn't a simple man; he merely has simple needs, and he speaks them simply. He hauls cargo across the United States, and lives a life that many would classify as that of a drifter. But Singleton chose the road. He chose the endless hauling and empty destinations. Not because he was fleeing any sort of stable, constant life, but because he was working. And working was all he knew.
Much like Hemingway and Steinbeck, Cady wrote about the condition of the American working man. Singleton is both a memoir of and a meditation on the open road, written by the writer the Atlanta Constitution calls “a lasting voice in modern American literature.”
