This book will appeal to readers of Jesmyn Ward’s Sing, Unburied Sing, Toni Morrison’s Beloved, and Karen Russell’s Swamplandia.
Memory is a ghost, and she's coming home.
Sixteen-year-old Leontyne Skye longs to escape Good Hope, a barrier island off the coast of Georgia—and the cursed birthright that binds her to it. For generations, the women of the Skye line have tended Damascus, an ancient fig tree whose siren song lures the dead across the river. The figs it bears are harvested to create Redemption, a drug that tethers the island to the dead, slowly consuming the Skye women from the inside out.
Leontyne’s mother, Eulalee, is already disappearing—memory, hair, teeth—into the salt-stung air. And Leontyne is unraveling too, since the accident known as Tribulation Day, when she lost her hand and all sense of who she was before. As her memories resurface in fractured pieces, and her childhood friends, Rebecca and Avery, twist truth to their own ends, Leontyne faces a cruel inheritance aiming to destroy her.
When Journey Wintergarden arrives, mysterious and magnetic, precarious relationships unravel, threatening to upend everything, derailing Leontyne’s plans to escape Good Hope. As desire, betrayal, and memory collide, the haints grow restless. Leontyne’s refusal to tend the tree means shattering the fragile balance between the living and the dead. Accepting her fate means becoming the Great Redeemer—and losing herself completely.
Robert Gwaltney, award winning author of southern fiction, is a graduate of Florida State University. He resides in Atlanta Georgia with his partner, where he is an active member of the Atlanta literary community. By day, he serves as Vice President of Easter Seals North Georgia, Inc., Children Services, a non-profit supporting children with disabilities and other special needs. Robert’s work has appeared in such publications as The Signal Mountain Review and The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature. Robert also serves as Prose Editor for The Blue Mountain Review. His debut novel, The Cicada Tree, won the Somerset Award for literary fiction.
There’s an almost Dickensian denseness to Robert Gwaltney's lyrical writing that invites a savor-every-turn-of-phrase reading. Happy to report, his Sing Down the Moon is no different. This lavish, beautifully-told ghost story is populated with characters who hover between the living and the dead in a dimly lit world that is both frightening and funny. His characters want what they want with a mighty need, always tempered by Gwaltney’s hand with a tender humanity. One can't help but root for them as they journey through this tale that sits, uniquely, at the intersection of Southern Gothic, Magical Realism, family drama, and coming-of-age story-telling.
Robert Gwaltney’s novel Sing Down the Moon is as southern gothic as Flannery O’Connor’s typewriter. It is a story with depth, painted with fat over lean, with masterful layering and blending, at times dark, and at other times colorful. He takes storytelling to a different level.
I was lured into the tale by Damascus and by Leontyne Skye.
Damascus is huge and magical, a tree that entices souls from across the river. When I envision the tree’s roots, I see tentacles bulging from the soil, reaching into a marsh of both good and evil. It is a tree deserving of its name. Damascus.
Damascus produces Sara figs. Such an innocent sounding name: Sara figs. But an addictive drug called Redemption is derived from Sara figs, the fruit of Damascus, the drug of the marsh.
Leontyne Skye lives in this place. She is a young teenage girl who has no choice but to watch her mother decay and disappear, bit by bit, one vital part at a time. Hair and teeth. Even memory.
It isn’t easy for Leontyne to watch Redemption destroy so many. And in this marsh, it sure isn’t easy to tell the truth from a downright lie.
This beautifully told story is unlike anything I have read. It bleeds into the styles of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Anthony Doerr, and Alice Hoffman. If it were a painting it would hang in the company of Marc Chagall, Vincent van Gogh, and Ivan Albright.
I loved The Cicada Tree, and I was so thrilled to be back in the grasp of Gwaltney’s prose with this novel. Southern gothic, dreamlike, and with singular characters that make the fantastical feel real— Sing Down the Moon is exceptional.
Sing Down the Moon by Robert Gwaltney is an intentionally disorienting that asks the reader to surrender to uncertainty. The story follows sixteen-year-old Leontyne Skye, who longs to escape Good Hope, a barrier island off the coast of Georgia, and the cursed inheritance that binds her to it. For generations, the women in her family have tended Damascus, an ancient fig tree whose song lures the dead across the river. The figs it bears are used to create Redemption, an addictive drug that tethers the living to the dead and slowly consumes the Skye women from the inside out.
Leontyne’s mother is already disappearing, losing pieces of herself to memory and decay, and Leontyne is unraveling too after the accident known as Tribulation Day. She wakes with no memory of who she was before, missing her hand and surrounded by people who refuse to tell her the truth about what happened. Because the protagonist knows so little, the reader does too, and the story unfolds through fragments, withheld information, and shifting loyalties. Each chapter feels like receiving breadcrumbs rather than answers, slowly guiding you toward an understanding of the island, its magic, and the cost of survival.
The prose is ephemeral and poetic, with language that feels almost otherworldly. Gwaltney’s writing is strikingly unique, but that lyricism also adds to the difficulty of following the narrative. There is sometimes little clarity in what you are reading, and the sense of confusion feels purposeful, mirroring Leontyne’s fractured memory and the unstable world she inhabits.
This is not a book that holds your hand. It demands patience, trust, and a willingness to sit with ambiguity. For readers who enjoy experimental structure, folklore-infused storytelling, and prose-forward novels, Sing Down the Moon offers a haunting and atmospheric experience. For others, the lack of clarity may feel challenging. Either way, it is a novel that lingers long after the final page.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I read an early copy of this book and offered the author this following blurb:
Sing Down the Moon is a wholly original, ambitious, and lyrical southern gothic fantasy that is both tantalizing and immersive. Gwaltney’s imagination soars in this epic story centered around a young girl named Leontyne Skye who struggles to come to terms with her birthright while navigating the complex environment of a mythical Georgia barrier island where trickery, lies and deceit are as abundant as quicksand and moonbeams. An enchanting and alluring read - I loved it.
Beyond the blurb: Gwaltney's command of the English language is something to behold. He's a poet as well as a novelist, and has this ability to string together these beautiful sentences which sometimes makes me stop and re-read them a few times. (Think of Ocean Vuong's style.) Having a command, a sense of what dances together on the page, this word with that, quite simply elevates his prose from the everyday wordsmith to a master.
Don't get me started on Gwaltney's imagination and the way he creates these other worlds as a stage for his equally engaging his characters. You should read Sing Down the Moon for all of the above, but also because you'll find the sublime story of young Leontyne Skye as mesmerizing as anything you've read lately.
Sing Down the Moon is one of those novels that needs to be savored slowly to appreciate the skillfully structured plot, the richly developed characters and the poignantly poetic language. The story, a mix of Southern Gothic, fantasy and coming of age, is about sixteen year old Leontyne Skye who is desperately trying to escape Good Hope, a place in between life and death, while also seeking the truth about what transpired on “Tribulation Day” when she lost a hand. Her odyssey is riddled with madness and maelstrom, and readers experience her fractured memories, pain and confusion through Gwaltney’s unique structure. His use of religious imagery and literary allusions contribute to the sheer brilliance of this novel . Sing Down the Moon is not just another novel to read, it’s a fantastical experience!
I was drawn to this book by the mystery and eeriness portrayed in the description, and it delivered! On top of that, I loved the depth of these characters. I will admit, it took me some time to get into the poetic style of writing. However, the style of writing lends itself well to the overall mood of this book. There were plenty of times I was confused, but felt it was meant to be that way and was invested in finding out what happened with the characters.
With his novel, Sing Down The Moon, Robert Gwaltney is vying for heir apparent to Georgia's own Flannery O'Connor. He's created characters — singular, quirky, magical — that will ignite your imagination. And told in language, so filled with poetry and awe, it will flat out weave its web around you. Prepare to be delighted in this spectacular Georgia tale.
Sing Down the Moon is a beautifully written coming of age story with the perfect blend of magical realism and good old fashioned storytelling. This is a book you'll want to read in 2026.