I am so happy to be offering this book at the store. It's a collection of three Capote short stories, vaguely autobiographical, about his life growing up poor and rural and not quite fitting in. Okay, not remotely fitting in. Here we see the tender, sensitive, young Capote, early on, demonstrating his sense of style and his flair for the dramatic. I try to read the Thanksgiving Visitor every year about this time and I always end up bawling. I would love to read this aloud at Thanksgiving with a group of folks. A little wonky but why not? We seem to have lost the fine pastime of adults reading aloud to each other. Or perhaps it is something we do as couples more often. You know, "Honey, check out this story in the paper today". But not so much as a group. I love it when someone reads aloud to me. It is like being transported back to childhood.