Disproving the adage to 'never look a gift horse in the mouth', Moore discovers that the free house in Detroit that she's offered comes with lots of issues, both with the house itself and because it's located in a dysfunctional city. The free house program was ostensibly to promote neighborhood revitalization by locating artists in Detroit neighborhoods and providing them with housing. Many of Moore's less happy discoveries about the program and her house seem to stem from her not reading the 'fine print' on the agreement (like many folks acquiring a house TBH!) and for her vignettes of sexist behavior which is apparently rampant among Detroiters--issues that no amount of organic gardening and upcycling can fix. Sprinkled into the litany of complaints are stories about Moore's Bangladeshi neighbors, including some quite charming young folks. Gentrifier offers a sketch of the challenges that America's cities stalled in post-industrial decline face and as an indictment of 'quick fix' measures to the housing crisis. ( )

An enlightening roller-coaster of emotions. I learned things about home ownership that never would have occurred to me. I learned how messy Detroit area bureaucracy has made it difficult for people to retain their homes. Anne Elizabeth Moore's excellent storytellingkeeps the reader intrigued. I look forward to go through her previous works. ( )

Houses in Detroit were being given away to writers! I remember the articles in the Detroit Free Press. On the surface, Write a House sounded like a great idea. All those empty houses in the city, why not? “It’s like a writer-in-residence program…only in this case we’re actually giving the writer the residence, forever,” an article in Publisher’s Weekly noted. The writers were given two years rent-free then handed the deed. All they had to do was to “engage with the literary community of Detroit,” live in the house 75% of the time, and pay insurance and taxes.

For Anne Elizabeth Moore, it meant a place of her own where she could settle down after years of traveling across the world.

But the reality fell short of the ideal. Out of her experience arose a book about her experience winning a house, adapting to Banglatown, discovering Detroit’s ‘come back’ was more hype than truth, and how the city balances their budget by selling the homes of people who owed back taxes.

It is not a pretty story, and yet Moore’s stories spurred plenty of laughs and included some heart-warming scenes.

The memoir is episodic, but I liked the mix. Light hearted stories about her cats and the hospitality of her Bengali neighbors intersperse the more serious and disturbing narratives. My favorite scenes were Moore’s interactions with the girls who lived across the street. The girls gave her insight into their lives as Moore expanded their understanding of the world.

Home ownership is costly. Moore’s ‘free house’ put her nearly $30,000 in debt, and when she decided to sell discovered the name on the deed was not her own.

I had read others on the Detroit foreclosure crisis, how occupied homes are ceased for back taxes, sometimes over a few hundred dollars, then sold at auction, and then resold again. Everyone making a profit off of another’s catastrophe, forcing people out of their family homes….and homeless. “Michigan is one of only twelve states that allows counties to profit from the sale of property seized in tax foreclosures,” Moore states. And, Detroit has one of the highest property tax rates in America. Of course, the population decline and resulting empty lots means lower income from property taxes, and the city had to raise the funds somehow….hence, selling off seized properties for a profit. She shares the hard numbers: a $22.5 million budget shortfall in 2014 was offset by the seizure and sale of homes!

Moore discovered that her house had been illegally seized and sold for a profit.

Moore loved her neighbors, but she did not love Detroit. It is not a positive portrait of the city. One that is, in some ways, well deserved. ( )