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337 pages, Hardcover
First published July 30, 2019








I opened the door to a stranger, standing easy with the fat moon rising behind her, practically perching on her shoulder…She was the pretty that’s on television:symmetrical features, matte skin, and that kind of long, slim, yoga body that still made me feel self-conscious about my own…She smiled and I had no premonition as I smiled back. She didn’t look like my own destruction to me.========================================
The past is never dead. It's not even past.Sometimes it comes crashing back in dramatic fashion, banging on the door, in a moonglow of dark intent, and demanding that attention be paid, and paid, and paid. Roux, a new neighbor dropping in on the local mom's book group, must have parked her broom somewhere out of sight. The ladies would not really get around to discussing Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth, even though at least some of them had surely read it. Those who had might appreciate that an evening supposedly dedicated to a book about the hypocrisy of social mores in the high society of late 19th century New York would spark a battle royale in which the secrets of their small society were at risk of exposure. The model-level-stunning Roux is a charismatic presence, everyone wanting to earn her approval. She encourages excessive consumption of alcohol, starts a souped-up variation of the Never Have I Ever drinking game, assigns everyone individual spirit animals, and begins harvesting secrets. But this is collateral entertainment. Roux is there for one person only and lets her know in no uncertain terms.
---William Faulkner - Requiem for a Nun
”You don’t want to play? That makes no sense,” she said, and her spirit animal was a more sinister version of the Cat in the Hat. Hers was feral, invading to unpack trouble in a house, where no mother would ever come home. In this house I was the only mother, and I had let the trouble in. I’d swung the door wide for it, hoped it had the right house, even. “Because, Amy? C’mon. You would win this. I’m thinking you got these low-stakes bitches on lockdown.”Amy Whey has a good life. She has a happy marriage, a beautiful baby, a pretty sane thirteen-year-old stepdaughter, and a successful career as a scuba instructor, here in Pensacola. It had not always been so. One spell of adolescent foolishness had changed what had been a decent life into something else. Half her high school a blur, her relationship with her parents ruined, disgrace brought down on her family. Wastrel years followed, with self-destruction denied its ultimate prize when Amy was introduced to scuba, (Buoy meets girl?) in which she found a joy that was spiritual as well as physical, and a way forward to having a life. But Roux knows Amy’s secret, and that life is in mortal peril. All Amy has to do to keep that life is give Roux every cent she has and then wonder when she will be back for more.

I knew from long experience that I only had to wait the feeling out. People say, I don’t know how she lives with herself, but every single one of them was living with their own worst thing just fine. No one walks around holding their ugliest sin in the palm of their hand, staring at it. Our hurts are heavy and we let them sink. Every day they drift lower, settling in murky places where the light can’t reach. All I had to do was wait. My bad would fall down into the darkness again, because the bad things always do.The book alternates chapters, up to a point, between the contemporary blackmail duel and the events of Amy’s adolescence. We get to know what there is to know, bit by bit, and with some nifty misdirections. One of the truly fun things about this book is Jackson’s ability to keep ending her chapters with twists and hooks that make you want to read just one more chapter. Read, hook, repeat.
I couldn’t call her. I was not such a beaten dog that I would belly-creep for petting from the hand that held the whip. I bit and swallowed, tearing at the meat. What did it say about me that Roux was the only person I could be honest with? Only she saw me down to my core, dark and deep, bitter as wormwood. All the things that made me hate myself, she actively admired, and she was the only one who saw me whole.Roux keeps finding herself surprised that someone she had thought would be an easy mark had turned out to be a tough competitor in a game of spy versus spy. Frenemies on steroids. There is a nice scene in which Amy gives Roux a book to read, Stephen King’s Hearts in Atlantis, maybe hoping she would, on reading it, consider where she had gone wrong, maybe rue her current life gig? The author here is reminding those who are familiar with the book that many, many of us have not always lived our best lives.
“After I draft a scene with, say, five people in it, I do one more revision per character. I work my way through the scene through each point of view, so even if a character has only one line, it comes out of an arc and a train of thought and a motivation that I understand completely. It makes a difference. Even if each character’s motivation is not explained to the reader, if I know the arc, if their reasoning and their individual desires are clear to me, that character’s actions feel more authentic. I learned to do this working in summer stock theatre. I did a scene where my character sat silent on stage and watched actions unfold for 15 minutes and then said one line. But to deliver that line authentically, I had to feel every feeling and think every thought, and react to every moment that happened. I try to do the same in novels. - from The Big Thrill interviewThis is in addition to doing some serious hands-on research into scuba diving.
