A brief excerpt:
It's like Rich's Craigslist ad was designed for a certain kind of person: male, white, unattached, aging, no longer fostering unreasonable ambitions or fueled by fantasies about what he might turn out to be someday, someone on the downward slope of life for whom things maybe haven't gone exactly as planned. It is sort of a retirement plan for the obsolete white man. In the industrial northeast of Ohio at the far side of the Great Recession, there is no shortage of these people. Rich has actually been interviewing subjects he carefully selects from the hundreds of men who reply to the ads. He's been showing up at the food court of the Chapel Hill mall with an official-looking application form, affecting the air of an affable blue-collar-type landowner who just wants to find someone friendly to camp out on his spread while he's up in Akron conducting the business of his normal life. Rich ascertains certain things from these gentlemen: Do you have a wife or kids or people you need to keep in close touch with? This farm, it doesn't have cell coverage; are you a fellow who can live in peaceful isolation? And what type of vehicle do you have, and would you be bringing that down with you when you came, and oh, there's a laptop computer? Bring it all with you, and my nephew and I will drive you on down to Caldwell.