Now in paperback, the newest collection of stories from the acclaimed author of Do the Windows Open?, Was This Man a Genius?, and The Unprofessionals—a brilliant, complex work that delivers more of the exquisitely funny and beautifully observant prose that draws ardent praise from critics and readers. • An exceptional author: Julie Hecht’s fiction has appeared in The New Yorker and Harper’s, and her books have received spectacular reviews from The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Boston Globe, Time, and many other publications. All of the author’s books have been named New York Times Notable Books. • A singular character: At her first appearance, Hecht’s anxious, beguiling, and anonymous photographer-narrator was an instant literary icon. Her strategies—macrobiotics, herbal remedies, a bit of Xanax—for surviving civilization’s decline have established her as one of the most enthusiastically read voices of the last decade. • Our postmodern world, re-examined: With an unwavering gaze on the absurdities and ironies of the larger world, Happy Trails to You recounts the narrator’s attempts to find a place of unspoiled nature on the once peaceful island of Nantucket, where power mowers, nail guns, and speeding trucks have blocked out the sounds of birdsong and crickets. A visit to a friend or restaurant touches upon every subject from the color of paint to the world situation and infinity. "Julie Hecht's new collection is funny, acerbic, angry, intelligent, and totally original. Her writing mixes horror and hilarity. I love her voice." - Roz Chast "But as times have changed, so has [the book's] character -- wonderfully, bracingly so. Hecht's latest story collection, Happy Trails to You , is piloted by the same half-babbling, half-deadpan voice, now with larger, more political concerns...These aren't merely the worries of an eccentric middle-aged East Coast vegetarian; they're the all-too-common concerns of the mainstream liberal consciousness. In the new century, Hecht's narrator is suddenly less alone in her alarm and alienation, finding more kindred spirits than ever before...But Hecht plays with this stereotype on many levels, and the collection's strongest moments describe a frustration with civilization that can't be blamed solely on psychosis." -- Katherine Hill, Bookforum Julie Hecht is the author of The Unprofessionals, Was This Man a Genius?: Talks with Andy Kaufman, and Do the Windows Open? Her stories have been published in The New Yorker and Harper’s. She has won an O. Henry Prize and received a Guggenheim Fellowship. She lives on the east end of Long Island in winter and spring, and massachusetts in summer and fall. Happy Trails to You Stories By Julie Hecht Simon & Schuster Copyright © 2009 Julie Hecht All right reserved. ISBN: 9781416564263 OVER THERE I owed my neighbor a visit. She'd left a message on my answering machine just before Christmas. It started with the words "All right, I'll leave a message..." People over eighty don't like answering machines, and I don't blame them. I'm like the Unabomber in that respect -- hatred of technology. And also, as I heard him described on the news, "a follower of Thoreau." The message was an invitation to come over and see the amaryllis I'd sent her, just bursting into bloom, but I ignored it. I knew she had a houseful of children and grandchildren, so I could postpone the visit. I figured, they're all in there eating their Christmas pudding, they don't need me. I'll go when she's alone with her dog and cat. "All right, I'll leave a message" was something my father used to say when he accepted the answering machine after two decades. But I'm not going there, as I'd heard Geraldo say on his nightly "news" show. It's too sad for me over there. A spiritual adviser was recently quoted as saying that most people have had their hearts broken by the time they're twenty, but he didn't say what had become of those hearts by age forty-five. My neighbor is almost ninety, about twice my age -- also about twice as intelligent as anyone I know. The normal response would be to call her back. But she has a hearing problem, and on the phone she can't hear me. In person, I hoped that some lip-reading could go on. Her sight hasn't failed her -- she's luckier than my father was. Or her brain hasn't failed her, so the cataract operations can take place. In the case of my parent, mental confusion was used as a reason to prevent the cataract operations. But surely there's a solution to that. I should have made it my full-time job to find the solutions to all things at the time. Now that I know, it's too late. That's the secret of life -- by the time you know, it's too late. When I got the second message, I decided to go for a visit. I thought I should bring something, even though I'd already sent the double amaryllis in a clay pot with green moss, but a tin of organic cookies from a bakery in California wouldn't be appreciated over there. B