"Normally, I crave Memphis' rough charms," Shriver writes. "But two days in a lousy hotel and newspapers filled with stories of a murderous preacher's wife put me in a foul mood that I can't shake. Where is that joyous jolt I used to get from my now-raggedy paperback [of On the Road]? "Why do the pathetic parts seem so much more prominent than when I read the book in my 20s? Perhaps I've seen too much of a country grown stale. I'm relieved to say goodbye and head to Nashville, the end of my road."