Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century

by Jessica Bruder

I brushed my teeth and curled up in my sleeping bag, thinking about something Bob Wells had written in his book. “For most people, their first night sleeping in a van is so far out of their comfort zone, it can be very difficult,” he’d explained. “Your fear will magnify every sound (and there are a lot of them) and you may not get much sleep. When you wake up in the morning, you will be disoriented and wonder where you are.” I hadn’t thought those words would apply to me. After all, I was just a writer with a digital camera, recorder, and notebook, not someone making a radical lifestyle change. I planned to live in my van for months, not years. Cars swung through the parking lot, strafing Halen with their headlights. The shades glowed bright white as each approached, dimming to red as the vehicles passed. Shadows wheeled around inside the van. Was that driver slowing down? Was this one parking too close? Did they know I was in here? I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but it was hours before sleep came.