Not Much of a Hugger

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“A heartwarming story about never giving up, a novel that makes you root for the underdog. A perfect apple of a book, deeply satisfying and enriching, with a clever bite of the bittersweet.”
—Susan Scarf Merrell, author of Shirley: A Novel

Randy Gunderson’s life is crumbling as fast as the land beneath his feet. The heartbroken apple grower is already in a world of hurt trying to win back his estranged wife and son, stave off bankruptcy, and fight off the tech millionaires who are trying to pave over his orchard community and turn it into a wasteland of McMansions. Now, he also has to deal with a massive geologic rift that threatens to send his livelihood and his legacy crashing into the Columbia River.

With some help from surprising sources, Randy scrambles to save his failing business. But with wildfires closing in and his last chance at redemption slipping away, he must finally confront the truth: the biggest threat to everything he loves has always been himself.

Set against the stunning backdrop of Washington’s apple country, Not Much of a Hugger is a book full of heart and humor that considers the damage we inflict on ourselves and others, the weight of legacy, and whether it’s ever too late to say you’re sorry.

“Not Much of a Hugger is funny, rueful, and tender as it contends with fathers and sons, property, class, regret, and the quest for the very best apple. This is a novel that will stay with me.”
—Meg Wolitzer, author of The Interestings, host of NPR’s Selected Shorts

“With prose that glitters, jokes that land, and perspective-altering insights about love, loss, and yearning, Holt offers a timely critique of toxic masculinity, and a heartbreaking examination of the rifts it can cause. I treasured every moment I spent with this book.”
—Miranda Shulman, author of Harmless

“Randy Gunderson is Wenatchee's answer to Richard Russo’s The Straight Man—a stubborn, legacy-obsessed orchardist whose life is cracking as wide as the massive geological rift in his yard, forcing him to navigate a 'greatest hits list' of family apologies while his property, and his pride, slide toward the Columbia River.”
—Cam Torrens, bestselling author of the Tyler Zahn mystery/suspense series

“In this hilarious and heartbreaking debut, Not Much of a Hugger, author Craig Holt has created an indelible character who joins the pantheon of lovable American curmudgeons. Randy Gunderson may be a pain in the ass, but I could not stop rooting for him.”
—Giano Cromley, author of American Mythology

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Lumpy the Dorper Sheep

I’d never thought much about sheep personalities until I met Lumpy. Sure his teeth are a bit wonky, his coat is ratty and full of twigs and weeds, and he’s got some kind of soft palate problem that makes him snuffle and wheeze, but he’s a gentle, charming little dude.

On my first day mucking out barns at the animal rescue center where he lives, most of the animals were understandably cautious. Lumpy, on the other hand, approached me right away and kept me company until the barn was clean. He likes having his chin and back scratched. When I showed up at my next shift he ambled over to greet me like we were old friends and brought a bunch of other goats and sheep along with him. It was like he’d given me his seal of approval.

A Dorper’s coat is a mix of short hair and wool that theoretically reduces the need for shearing, but in Lumpy’s case it just looked like a blanket woven from fusty dreadlocks. Dorpers were originally bred as “meat sheep” in South Africa, but luckily for the Lumpinator he ended up at Center Valley Animal Rescue, a no-kill animal shelter on the Olympic Peninsula. I’m happy to report that Lumpy was eventually adopted. I was sad to see him go, but I’m glad he’s living his best life on a small farm near Port Townsend.

Reinier Zijl

Excerpt from Creatures of Vast Appetite: the Birth of European Capitalism

Reinier Zijl was a little-known but flamboyantly energetic figure: a scholar, statesman, lutenist, mercenary, tailor, cheese monger, and forefather of what became the global commodity trade. He also authored the seventeenth-century financial treatise-cum-confessional pamphlet Winst Voor Geweten. Despite his near total absence from modern historical texts, it is no exaggeration to say that Master Zijl is on a par with Vladimir III of Wallachia as one of the great pioneers of the study and practice of manipulating human behavior on a massive scale in order to gain obscene personal wealth.

After narrowly avoiding hanging from the rafters of the Aalsmeer Veilinggebouw for his role in the tulip market crash of 1637 (A miracle of subterfuge and perfidy according to renowned historian Aaron Eike) he escaped to Paris and founded the fromagerie La Mendicité and earned great acclaim for his Époisses, which according to legend was the first cheese to be banned from public markets for its inescapably robust odor of foot fungus and goat corpse. Later, he became an advisor to Louis XIV, only to be expelled from court due to accusations (leveled by jealous courtiers whose wives and mistresses he had, to put it delicately, known) of cheating at cards and stealing ladies’ gowns for resale at his Paris boutique, Le Vol. He is renowned for having said to the Sun King, “A closet looks like a ballroom if you line it with mirrors” and thus inspiring the renovation that effectively bankrupted the republic. Zijl is perhaps best known for his pithy encapsulation of a lifetime of successful entrepreneurship. This last was spoken in irritation on his death bed, to a misguided priest attempting to administer last rites. Quoth Zijl: “There is no margin in having a soul.” This instructive bon mot would have been lost to history if not for the timely arrival of his estranged bastard sons, who had been drawn back to the ancestral (albeit recently completed) manse by the siren call of impending inheritance.

After Zijl’s death, his sons took over his business empire, only to discover it was built on a seething mountain of debt and cooked books. Within a year, one of the grabby lads had been poisoned with a bad anisette pastille. The other was hurled from the Campanile di Giotto after fleeing to Italy to avoid his accusations of witchcraft, an army of creditors, and a pesky murder rap.