Longtime local media personality Vern Barclay didn't mean for it to happen, but when it does, when he becomes the face of the resistance in a small and mostly rural state, he knows himself well enough to accept all the help he can get. And so he teams up with Perry (a fellow fugitive with a gift for both facts and computers) and Sylvia (a rugged lesbian transplanted from New York and as proud of her adopted home as any native) to try to get his message out as clearly, and in as many ways, as possible. Along the way, they're joined by a colorful cast of former athletes, elderly Vermonters, and enthusiastic new "asylum seekers."

I don't know where to begin. I grew up in this place. Vermont shaped me, informed my views of the world. Every absurd detail here resonates so clearly and so true that I found myself laughing and nodding, sighing and groaning every time I turned a page. Light-hearted and level-headed, the story and the characters both remind us that dialogue is at the heart of any successful social contract. It's a call to resistance, but also encouragement to reintegrate respectful collaboration between opposing points of view. And it's a sometimes-quite-direct note to value the people of any place and their experiences, that there is often as much wisdom in people who choose small or simple or otherwise different lives as there is in those who chose a more complicated or worldly path.