"These are intimate, delicate essays about the many skins we inhabit, illuminating even in their darkness." —The Boston Globe

Anna Journey revels in the flexibility and hybridity of the essay form, swerving artfully among topics—a recollection of a personal rupture and ensuing call to a suicide hotline opens into a consideration of taxidermy and lyric time; a mother's penchant for telling macabre stories at the dinner table connects to campfire songs and the cultural importance of American roots music; and a tattoo artist named after a pirate–themed rum reminds us how we inscribe our skins and spirits through the intimate gestures of ink.