In a universe of probabilities, somewhere, out there, it's possible for a Jack, our hero, to journey on THE ROAD TO FORT WORTH, and make it there alive.
In our world, faced by insane odds, deranged and terrified, volunteering for every narcissistic indulgence and masochistic self-slaughter imaginable, it's highly unlikely to happen. Further, in our world, livers are not designed to survive such brutal torture.
Fortunately, for us, and most importantly, for himself, Michael Jackson Smith defied the odds and somehow maintained breathing in and out.
There are some novels that distract you for an evening and are then forgotten. THE ROAD TO FORT WORTH does not belong in that class of books. It gets inside you because it's the real deal. This is our life, folks, not always fluffy bunnies and technicolor ponies. This is real life, where we suffer, explore, rub ourselves raw, cater to every whim, then pay the price for our appetites.
I'm thankful that Mr. Smith had the courage, the fortitude, the heart, to write THE ROAD TO FORT WORTH. This novel is embodied compassion, compassion for self, and compassion for a hurting world.