Not So Far from Home brings a deeply personal perspective on how homelessness is a moral responsibility and community-building opportunity for the well-housed in America. In stories of service and friendship with un-homed neighbors, Charlie Quimby shows how poor people and marginal neighborhoods bear the human costs of insulating prosperous citizens like him. In 2009 Quimby joined efforts to end homelessness by volunteering as a preschool classroom aide in an emergency family shelter. Prevention was the solution, he thought, and at-risk kids spoke to his heart. Moved by the children's potential and dismayed by their precarious circumstances, he began writing reports on his volunteer work as it expanded in Minneapolis and Western Colorado. Witnessing folks struggle against structural barriers to achieving stable housing, his commitment grew. Not So Far from Home features the big-hearted sensibility and empathetic portrayals of people whose lives are often overlooked or discounted that brought acclaim for Quimby's novels, Monument Road and Inhabited. His s hort vignettes and essays convey the dignity and hopes of the diverse people he meets, while probing how flawed perceptions and judgments obstruct more humane solutions to ending homelessness. Not So Far from Home stands out from the academic, social policy, and journalistic treatments of homelessness because Quimby brings an introspective literary style to his work in the trenches of community organizations. He is open about being a writer and reports respectfully, but collecting stories is not his motivation. He connects with people as a voluntary preschool aide, shower attendant, street barber, discussion leader, bike mechanic, and front door greeter, without trying to be social worker, therapist, or white savior. The bonds he forms are mutual and genuine. For anyone considering a role in community affairs, his insights into volunteering and everyday activism will enlighten and inspire. Those already dedicated to fields of social service will find recognition of their work's importance and appreciation of their daily challenges. An eye-opening read of people who are homeless Who is the smiling man on the cover of this involving book about volunteering at places helping the homeless? And why is he holding a big bunch of keys? You'll have to read Quimby's first-person account to find out. Quimby divides his time between his native Grand Junction, Colo., and Minneapolis, where he worked with Peace House Community and People Serving People. If Quimby's name sounds familiar and you are on social media, you might have run into his stories about cutting hair in his blog Across the Great Divide. What's so interesting about his experiences is that he walks the fine line as both participant in the daily lives of men and women who need help and as nonjudgmental observer. A thread running through the book is his concerns as a writer. How far can he go in telling clients' stories? Should he reveal he's a writer to those who don't know him? Most writers need conclusions to stories. But Quimby can't do that because so many of his clients are transients. Quimby acknowledges homelessness is a problem, but volunteers can make a difference doing such simple acts as cutting the hair of a man who hasn't taken his hat off all winter. His message — we have to see these men and women as human beings and not a societal problem. They are as diverse as any population. Volunteers often are needed for low-level jobs that Quimby does willingly, including keeping track of how long a person is taking for a shower, arbitrating the line for use of two bathrooms, and moderating use of washers and driers. Also, lots of vacuuming. When he's with pre-kindergartners he invents games, reads to a kid who's moved several times and needs a warm lap, and spends a lot of time assisting with hand-washing. When a child leaves, he hopes all will go well with the family. Once a week, Quimby facilitated discussions among clients, asking big questions about life, death and their philosophies of life. These conversations might surprise those who think of unhoused men and women as not too bright, drunk or somehow lesser. Mostly, the folks he quotes in these Big Issues conversations are as thoughtful as anyone in a middle-class living room. Quimby found his calling as a "street barber" while volunteering at the Day Center in Grand Junction: While carefully cutting hair in whatever style the person wanted, he listened to stories from his clients because not many people listen to the homeless. Don't expect to see the phrase "colorful characters" here. By the time you finish his book you will see that phrase as a stereotype of a population that makes news only when a tent camp is pulled down by government. This book should change that perception. Quimby is the author of novels "Monument Road" and "Inhabited." His writing career has spanned plays, newspapers, corporate communications, speech writing