An Essay from Powell’ about writing “My Empire of Dirt”

When I talk to people about My Empire of Dirt, I tell some outrageous stories from the year I spent turning my back yard in Flatbush, Brooklyn, into a farm that would, with the exception of salt, pepper, and coffee beans, sustain me for at least a month. Some of the tales are — or at least are intended to be — funny, some provocative, some poignant, and some heartbreaking. And when I finally finish talking, the first question is always, “Do you still have the farm?

Hell yes, I reply, and then immediately I equivocate, call it a marriage-preserving compromise.