In the summer of 1988, twenty-five-year-old John Livingston discovers a hidden room in his family’s basement containing the long-forgotten journals of his grandfather, Peter Livingston. What begins as curiosity becomes a journey into memory, silence, and the unspoken weight of family legacy.
Through Peter’s Depression-era writings, John uncovers the struggles of a man torn between duty to farm and family, the lure of the city, and the quiet despair of giving up a child. As John reads, the past and present his mother’s death, his strained relationship with his father, and the unexpected help of a private investigator draw him deeper into questions of identity and belonging.
At the heart of the story is the thread of silence that binds generations—the things fathers never say, the truths buried in journals, and the keepsakes that outlast memory. From Ford County farms to Chicago streets, Bloodlines explores the cost of repression, the fragility of family bonds, and the resilience required to face painful truths.
By turns nostalgic, tender, and haunting, Bloodlines is a literary family drama about what we inherit—and what we choose to carry forward.
In Bloodlines, DiMatteo proves himself a rare storyteller, one who understands that the deepest conflicts are the ones we inherit without knowing. The journals, the hidden room, the fractures between fathers and sons, each element is crafted with meticulous restraint, inviting the reader to lean in, searching for the meaning beneath the quiet. It’s a novel that confounds in the best way: tender yet sharp, intimate yet vast, simple yet impossibly layered. A remarkable, courageous work.