As a writer, I seldom read a book where I'm like... I wish I had thought of that. Not because I wish I had written the book, but because the world within is so well-developed it feels like you could go there and be a part of it. Katherine's latest, a hefty tome, but worth every damn page, is a garden of rain-soaked culinary delights. As dreary as the story can be, there are these islands of pure, unapologetic humanity scattered within, popping with sumptuous details; these islands are the ties that hold the story together.
The characters are fantastic, well-developed, and sport an emotional range that had me connecting with all of them in some way. The main character's malaise, both emotional and disease-related, drives the story in a haunting manner that is as delicious as the foods described within. Eliot's condition is fascinating, and not something I've ever seen before, and I've seen and read a ton of horror. The character of Eliot reminded me of the chef in The Menu, but more relatable, and not a total psychopath.
There are so many fantastic scenes in here, that it's hard to highlight my favorites, from drippy swamps, BBQ joints surrounded by zombie-esque hordes, to a strange cult, there's a little bit of everything in this sprawling road trip tale of grief.
When I finished, it was all I could do to not go and ask permission to write a story in this world. And that's the highest praise I can give. Where does the soul go? In Katherine's case, on the page, obviously.