The Moron at the End of This Book

Every once in a while a book comes along that both raises the bar of literary excellence and inspires a growing sense of hope and optimism for the future of humanity. The Moron at the End of This Book is not that book. No sir. You might find, however, that it raises the bar on self-criticism and unconventional acts of service. It might also inspire a growing sense of hope and optimism for the future of kind-hearted morons the world over. “Couch! He wrote a book? Well, yeah, I know him. Kinda has that sea monkey intelligence, know what I mean? Like, there’s something there, but you gotta use your imagination to get anything out of the experience.” - Edgar T. Squintz, Fictional character created for reasons that may or may not be obvious. On the whole, The Moron at the End of This Book is an insightful, self-scrutinizing memoir about the highs and woes of a life, perhaps not well-lived, but, well, lived. With a collection of short stories and love letters to the living and the dead, author Andrew Couch calls upon nearly 40 years of impulsive actions, unusual friendships, odd jobs, and a careworn moral compass to deliver a mercifully one-of-a-kind account of a man in search of approval from his child-self.