Me? Liking a sci-fi book? It’s true!
And no, I did not undergo electric shock therapy. This book is almost pogo-stick worthy, it’s so damn good. I don’t even know what category this book fits into. To me, it’s not pure sci-fi, really. Is there such a thing as disaster books, like there are disaster movies? Because that’s what it is. It’s not about aliens or weird gadgets; it’s about a virus, a sleeping sickness, that takes over a college town. Maybe it should be called sci-fi light. Well, whatever we want to call it, this book is excellent. And what makes it so excellent is that it’s character-driven—something I don’t usually associate with a sci-fi book.
There are about ten or so characters. Every single one is well-drawn and likeable, and each one evoked my sympathy. Most of the story revolves around a couple with a newborn, a survivalist father and his two young daughters, and two college students who hang out together. There are a couple of other minor characters whose stories I found interesting, too. Halfway through the book I realized with horror, hey, these characters could all get the sleeping sickness (so would be unavailable to entertain me) or they could even die. Ah, so this is one reason why “disaster books” are such a bummer! You get all attached to a character, then poof, they’re gone. What kind of deal is that?! Maybe I should have thought longer about reading a book where so many people may die. But as I continued, I was happy to see there was hope and there were people who were helping, which gave this cynic a little faith in humanity.
The language pulled me in immediately. It’s straightforward, fluff-free, and on the sparse side. It’s dramatic in tone, but not overly dramatic. I was all-in as soon as I opened the book.
There are lots of wise little nuggets:
“Not everything that happens in a life can be digested. Some events stay forever whole. Some images never leave the mind.”
“But isn’t the future always an imaginary thing before it comes?”
“But isn’t every sleep a kind of isolation? When else are we so alone?”
“But it feels good to take care of them—the way it is possible to disappear inside someone else’s need.”
If you’re an Extreme Worrier like I am, the following quote should make you feel better. Hell, it will probably make you strut. (The two sentences are probably why I loved the book so much, lol):
“Worry, she often reminds her patients, is a kind of creativity. Fear is an act of the imagination.”
Many of the characters face moral dilemmas, the kind of questions that come up with natural disasters. Do you help people if it puts you more at risk? Do you leave your children to go help others? Do you obey the quarantine because of the risk to other people? Do you shove to get out first? Remember the famous moral question, if you were in a life boat and could only save one person, how would you choose who to pick? There’s one character who keeps asking those types of questions to his friend. This has significance later in the book, and it’s all subtle and cool.
Fear! Man, a contagious disease spreading fast is going to scare the hell out of everyone. You have the people who live in the town, fearing they will be the next victim. And you have the fretting parents of college kids, totally nutso because they live in other towns and can’t find out if their kids are okay. The book does an amazing job of showing people’s fear, in all its permutations.
The scenes of people desperately trying to leave town were realistic and powerful. They reminded me of what happened during the recent fire in Paradise, California, when the whole town disappeared—the whole friggin’ town! I got an up-close view because my friend’s mom lived there, and she told of a harrowing tale of her escape. She and everyone else lost their house, and they were left basically with the clothes on their back. The trauma is unimaginable. So as I read, I kept flashing on that real disaster. The book definitely gave me a taste of the mayhem, the fear, the urgency of a disastrous event. I felt like I was there, all unchy and crazed.
The book got me thinking about what I would do if it happened in my town. I’ll tell you one thing—I’m sure I would run, just like everyone else. Okay, I realize I can’t really RUN, but I would try to beat feet out of town by car—god, “escape by car” better be an option. But what if I was low on gas? Yi yi yi, I better make sure to keep my gas tank full! If I were smart, I’d probably go fill it up right now. (I must remember that these worries are simply signs of my creativity, lol).
One thing that happened with the sleeping sickness was that people still could dream. Damn, am I going to have to hear about people’s dreams? Because I’ll tell you right now, that doesn’t interest me one iota. Tell me what’s happening now in the real world; I don’t care about what someone’s brain cells are dreaming up. Bor-ing! But thank god, no—the book doesn’t go there.
Instead, the book playfully talks about dreams versus reality; perception funnies; parallel universes; the mixing of past, future and present. The comments pop up but they don’t detract from the plot one bit. If anything, they add some cool eeriness.
What a captivating book. Good characters, suspense, and food for thought. For those of you who shy away from the sci-fi genre, go ahead and dive in. It’s worth it.
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.