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“You know how writers are always cautioned not to have too many plates in the air? Well, Bathsheba Monk lets those plates fly and dance and whirl like dervishes and shiver like wronged lovers and spin like hilarious idiots. I found myself looking up, up, wondering how she would pull it off—and then I was reading without stopping, because I couldn’t tear myself away. Nude Walker has everything: war and conflict, sex and betrayal, old-money people and fresh-dollar newcomers, and always, men and women looking for the purest kind of love, even if it burns too hot.”—Susan Straight, author of Take One Candle Light a Room and Highwire Moon
"Monk's authority (she hails from Pennsylvania and served in the Army) and a winning mix of humor, mysticism, and sympathy for people adapting to a swiftly changing world make for an appealing tale."—Publishers Weekly
When I recall Afghanistan, I think of gray spiky plants with long taproots sinking into sand, shrouds of women kicking up dust as they move down the road, and skies the brittle blue of a prolonged drought. Arid. Ashy. Barren. So the sudden large cool drops made me laugh aloud as we trudged across the tarmac to board the C-128 at Bagram on the first leg of our trip home. I lifted my face to the sky to enjoy this farewell rain, which was like a kiss that would awaken the sleeping desert life.
“Bineki, did you lose this?”
I turned ar