First off, I want to say I am not the target demographic for this book. Left to my own tastes, I generally don’t reach for books where I know one specific religious faith is going to be affirmed and/or espoused. I do not intend to make a value statement regarding that. My primary interest in stories is to walk with characters I relate to, and when I know a story is already set up to align with a specific faith, for me it can hinder my sense of thrill or danger, leaving me feeling as though the story already has a pre-decided ending, as it were. Generally, I subjectively tend to prefer a more open-world setting, representative of the human condition rather than prescriptive, as I believe some faith-based genre stories can feel.
Again, is an issue of personal preference and taste, not an issue with any faith, nor with the genre. Also, I wanted to take careful time to outline my position in the interest of assuring anyone who may feel similarly reluctant to read this book for similar reasons that I am extremely glad I read this. I more than thoroughly enjoyed it. I found it beautiful.
I do not believe faith-based storytelling is any less valid than any other genre. I appreciate that there is a vital and thriving market for books like this, and I genuinely believe Heather Camacho has written a novel that both represents her core values in organic, compelling ways. She makes relatable and important arguments about the struggles of everyday life, and how difficult it can be to be able to form real relationships—romantic, familial, and otherwise—with people who are different from us, sometimes in seemingly fundamental ways; how maddeningly impossible it can feel to remain true and kind and loving to others while keeping true to ourselves at a spiritual level.
The struggles represented here are so universal and yet immediately and accessibly relatable, and Heather has taken compassionate care to craft a story with honesty, authenticity, and integrity.
Heather’s chief strength here is in her character work. She avoids stereotype and writes textured, dynamic characters who feel human in their flaws, their desires, their hopes and dreams, and in their core philosophies. She writes with authority about what it feels like to wrestle with these existential problems when facing an intimate relationship, and she asks important questions.
Is love enough when the one you love believes something different than we do?
Do I actually believe what I think I believe, or am
I wrong?
Is loving someone and feeling drawn to them reason enough to reconsider my beliefs?
Do my beliefs make me who I am, or am I more?
Deep stuff, and yet Heather approaches the subject matter with warmth, accessibility, affection, and a disarming sense of good humor. For all of its nuance, this is an instantaneously relatable book. It’s a breeze to read and it stays with you.
This is an author who loves people, who loves life, and who cares about what kinds of stories she puts into the world.
I saw myself in these lead characters. I grew up Catholic and spent all of my youth and through my twenties in the Catholic and Christian social spheres. This is a world I know well, even if I parted ways with the faith for reasons of my own. All the same, because of the sensitivity and sympathy Heather writes with, I felt seen and appreciated. I was taken back to those times in my life, and this book helped me settle some old pain I hadn’t realized I was still holding onto. It helped me see some of my old friends with more compassion. I was able to see them with more humanity, more sensitivity. It’s an emotional experience I cannot fully put into words, except to say I am so happy I took the chance to read this. I’m not speaking in hyperbole when I say I believe I am a better person because I read it.
And at the end of the day, whoever you are, don’t you think we could all benefit from walking alongside one another and listening to their stories?
I do. And whatever Heather Camacho writes next, I will be reading it.
Cheers, everyone!