The author has an MFA, and this book sure read like it was written by someone with an MFA. Lots of discursive descriptions, cute little turns of phrase, and navel gazing so that my eyes were darting ahead to the point where he just got on with the plot already. I could just imagine him reading a draft aloud to his seminar class, self-satisfied while his classmates clapped him on the back and told him he was brilliant, what a great image he had describing that clerk at the motel.
I have been there because I too (sigh) possess an advanced degree in writing, I couldn’t help but read this as a writer. I could see what he was doing to maintain his dramatic tension and I had a strong inkling as to where he was going, because it was where I would have gone if it was my story. The problem with maintaining the dramatic tension at all costs is that it often opens up plotholes.
For instance, for me, the idea that a devoted father who had been living in his truck for half a year with his beloved son would not *immediately* notice and remedy his son’s very obvious oncoming illness made it hard to suspend my disbelief. I suspected it was appendicitis. Me – with no connection to the kid and no medical background. So I am reading thinking, when are you going to recognize this and do something about it? This is a good kid, a damn near perfectly behaved and on his birthday he is clearly behaving strangely and showing symptoms of serious illness yet his dad is oblivious.
Second, we have a man who works manual labor jobs and sleeps in a truck (must leave you achy) yet he doesn’t possess any ibuprofen? In fact, he seems ignorant on the subject of medication one takes when they are sick. Seems out of character for someone who has dabbled in drug use and alcoholism. He thinks that he wants his son to have the best medicine. It doesn’t matter, a fever reducer is a fever reducer. Also, I buy Walmart brand ibuprofen, a bottle of 100 is $2 the last time I bought it. My point being he wouldn’t have had to break the bank to have a bottle of ibuprofen in the truck.
Again, to maintain that dramatic tension, the nurse at the school wouldn’t do anything to help, the people in the clinic at Walmart wouldn’t do anything, and I found that highly suspect. So many people that are so cold to a child who is obviously limp, febrile, and suffering right in front of them.
Henry had just scammed a gal at the gas station out of a tank of gas yet he couldn’t manage to conjure up a hard luck story to get his kid seen at the clinic? He couldn’t have begged them to call an ambulance? He had to know, everyone gets treated in the ER.
Also before resorting to shoplifting, I wondered, why he didn’t try asking any older woman with a big purse if he could borrow some ibuprofen for his sick kid? I personally carry it on me all the time. Because you know headache and period cramps happen. I would give it away to anyone who asked me for some. I thought this might be a result of being an oblivious male writer. I mean, for future reference if you need a band-aid, a pain reliever, a tums, just ask a woman with a big purse.
Another thing that I noticed was that they never stopped at a food pantry, they never got a meal at a soup kitchen. They had the truck, they surely could have driven over there. Henry spent every day on the internet at the library. I know the public library in my medium sized town is a haven for the homeless, and there are signs up everywhere about where to go for resources.
Also Henry apparently had not a single friend, who could have watched the kid for an afternoon or given them a bit of aid. I’m pretty sure early into his incarceration Michelle mentions a sister that had been helping her. What happened to that sister?
Also the kid himself is pretty nice, did he have no friend’s houses at which he could have played at after school until his father was done with his job interview and could have picked him up? Friends who had a mother possessing a pair of eyes and would have known instantly the kid was sick and started treating him?
It's a shame this guy wasn’t in my writing program because I would have brought all this to his attention. One more very petty detail – at least twice the author mentions characters opening beer bottles with their lighters. I would have called him on that. Who cares? Delete that.
So maybe I am pedantic here needling the author about these details, but it’s those details that make a story believable as taking place in the real world. The ending itself I found to be a bit cattywampus. The present story ends, then in the last chapter we flash back and at the end of that chapter the book ends, leaving us in the past, so we are left wondering what actually happened in the present day. Again, the writer in me sees that the author did this because he didn’t want to spell it out and shatter the dramatic tension he’d built. But I was skeptical that Walmart would go after someone that hard for shoplifting a single package of pills, that the cop (who had met them earlier and seen how sick the child was) wouldn’t put two and two together and realize what was going on. It’s a story that hangs on characters being a bit oblivious and slightly dumb.