Dylan and her adored French mother dream of one day sailing across the ocean to France. Paris, Dylan imagines, is a place where her black skin won't stand out, a place she might feel she belongs.
But when she loses her mother in a freak accident, Dylan finds herself on a very different journey: a road trip across outback Australia in the care of her mother's grieving boyfriend, Pat. As they travel through remote towns further and further from the water Dylan longs for, she and Pat form an unlikely bond. One that will be broken when he leaves her with the family she has never known.
Metal Fish, Falling Snow is a warm, funny and highly original portrait of a Young girl's search for identity and her struggle to deal with grief. Through families lost and found, this own-voices story celebrates the resilience of the human heart and our need to know who we truly are.
Some books can’t be described as anything but personal—this is one. Cath Moore opens our door to her protagonist Dylan, a biracial teen who is what the world would consider on the autistic spectrum, but is what some of us would agree is magic.
Metal Fish, Falling Snow is written in first person present perspective, which places the reader solidly inside the mind of Dylan. Dylan is a teenage girl who is dealing with all the things that a teenager deals with, family relationships, bullying, identity and self-acceptance. It is while in the whirling mists of her reality that her mother dies in an accident and Dylan adds grieving and coping with sudden change to her already challenging list of things to deal with. Her mother’s partner Pat starts them on a road trip together to she doesn’t want to know where
Set against the backdrop of inland Australia, Dylan travels down long desert roads and meets characters from small towns in a long and arduous journey where she inadvertently causes one catastrophe after another. The central journey within Metal Fish, Falling Snow occurs inside Dylan’s world, a place constructed of the real, expressed through the imagined.
Reading a story written in first person from what appears to be an autistic adolescent was confusing from the start. Being inside Dylan’s head took time to acclimatise to, but once I did I was charmed. Narratives were choppy and disjointed with elements of magical realism and disconnection of time. I spent the first couple of chapters trying to ascertain whether this was bad writing or there was something else being communicated here. It was… Taking into account Cath Moore’s screenwriting and Danish film background stylistically it is implicit in her writing style. Whilst reading I started to fall into cadence of Dylan’s thoughts and began to understand her language as did the characters around her. I quickly became invested in her story.
Cath Moore has done something amazing here. The book is beautiful and authentically crafted, at no time did I tire of the way Dylan sees the world despite her paranoia and repetitive habits. Moore does the work that all good authors do with a carefully written piece, she shows restraint and trusts the reader to do most of the work. There was nothing missing, no gaps in space, time, character or plot. How she found Dylan and created her world so convincingly I am stilled amazed by. The language left me wondering how true it would ring for some of my friends whose worlds are so complex, or even my daughter who sees the world differently to those around her.
A paragraph needs to be devoted to Cath Moore’s treatment of identity here as it is the struggle of much of this audience. Metal Fish, Falling Snow is patent example of how to incorporate struggles with Blackness in Australia into a character in a way that is real and does the work of truth-telling and making human. Her own mixed race parentage of an Irish Australian mother and Guyanese father mirrors itself in Dylan’s French mother and Guyanese father. Although not biographical, the pain and racial disphoria caused by the messages the world installs in Dylan, communicates a truth that is profound and undecorated. This journey when considered by itself is so subtle in its inclusion in the wholeness of Dylan’s character that it does not allow for the polarisation of the story to soothe the binary beast that is so often demanded of with Black writers. Moore has balanced the treatment of the identity struggle so well within this narrative, allowing it to be a present in reality but not forcing Dylan to deal with it. The growth felt organic throughout the narrative. Personally I was so connected to this story by the end that I was truly emotional. It evoked my own journey as a child growing up in Australia and struggles with my own identity. In the final chapter when Dylan tells Pat she can’t go with him, the way she explains the importance of having people who are around you who understand you broke me; ‘I also have to stay in case somewhere along his own timeline Joni feels skin shame and looking at his reflection feels like stepping on shattered glass. I’ll try and suck his shame out like venom from a snakebite. I need to be here so I can remind him that we are fine, even if it doesn’t always feel that way’ (Moore 2020).
Classified YA, Metal Fish, Falling Snow should be included in high school and university reading lists. It promises to make the reader’s world bigger and awards to people often not represented the opportunity to be seen as human, not just while reading the book, but forever after.
The following reviews are shared by Text Publishing – publisher of Metal Fish, Falling Snow
‘A breathtaking debut with such an assured, original voice—one page and I was all in. I wanted to remember every line but it felt like trying to catch handfuls of stars—in the end every piece fell into place so beautifully and I sat there in gobsmacked silence…you know the feeling that hits after you’ve read an extraordinary book? Metal Fish, Falling Snow is one of the most moving books I’ve read in ages and I’ll be thinking about it for a long time.’ Vikki Wakefield
‘Astonishingly original, heartfelt and funny.’ Books+Publishing
'Guyanese-Australian writer Cath Moore’s debut novel, Metal Fish, Falling Snow (Text), is a lyrical and moving road trip across regional Australia with a fascinating young protagonist.’ Maxine Beneba Clarke, Age
'A sometimes funny, often profound story that will reward the effort of reading Dylan's own voice narrative.’ ReadPlus
‘This wonderful Australian debut paints a whirling, raging, intense portrait of a teen who experiences the world in ways that she struggles to communicate to others. The reader is taken deep into Dylan’s mind and heart and senses, in ways that are sometimes deeply humorous, and at other times deeply painful. Layers of ideas about race, identity, grief and family run through this book, but the focus never wavers from Dylan’s funny and profound voice. This is a really moving, original and thought-provoking novel.’ Leanne Hall
‘Full of spark and humour, and each page is imbued with striking and unforgettable imagery...This is a novel for both young and old; a brilliant and heartfelt work of Australian fiction.’ Stella Prize Judges’ Report
‘Emotional and raw... debut author Moore uses spare, pointed and poetic language to evoke Dylan’s search for magic in everything, including herself.’ Booklist
'This beautifully written novel is a confident and creative YA debut that explores the themes of grief, family and identity with wonderful imagery and genuine humour. The language used is awe-inspiring and unique.’ CBCA judges's comments
'Metal Fish, Falling Snow is concrete and lace, a multi-layered, poetic work which delves hard and often surgically into the hearts of its characters and allows readers significant insight into the interplay of despair and hope that characterises being human.’ Judges’ comments, 2021 Prime Minister’s Literary Awards
I must say it took me a long way into this book before I actually started to really enjoy it and as such, it is hard to give it a rating so I have based the rating on my experience with the latter part of it. The story is set in country Australia. 14 year old bi-racial Dylan has recently lost her mother, in fact, she was part of the reason her mother died, and her grief is still raw. Part of her coping mechanism is to "connect" with her mother "spiritually" and to get her mother back to France. Dylan has a lot to cope with; she is alone with her mother's boyfriend who is doing the best he can to cater for Dylan's different way of thinking while battling his own demons, she is uncomfortable in her "black" skin and she is obsessed with the task of journeying on a boat to ensure her mother gets back to Paris. Her mother's boyfriend, Pat, takes Dylan on a road trip so he can leave her with the grandfather she has never met. It seems that Dylan is neurodiverse and probably on the autism spectrum but she also is able to go into other people's memories, so the book is a mixture of unique thinking and either paranormal ability or magical realism. I think it was this that hindered my ability to relax into the story and connect with it for quite a slab to if. I either grew accustomed to this or the writing improved but either way I ended up totally invested. I really enjoyed Dylan's different view of things. Her observations were sometimes insightful, sometimes funny (and beautifully written). I loved the flawed characters in this story just trying to do the best they could in a challenging world. I'm pretty sure the average reader at our secondary school will have trouble persevering with this book but I'm hoping it resonates with some.
Trigger warnings: death of a parent, grief, domestic violence (in the past), racial slurs, internalised racism, hospitalisation.
I...don't quite know what to make of this book. I'm not entirely sure who the intended audience is. The protagonist is 14 but acts more like a 9 or 10 year old a lot of the time. And yet the story deals with a lot of dark themes that I wouldn't necessarily give to a 14 year old... I had a difficult time dealing with Dylan's internalised racism, and it wasn't until I realised (through a throwaway reference to Brian Lara near the end of the book) that the story is set in the 1990s that her attitude fell into place for me.
Dylan also VERY much reads like she's neurodiverse and yet there's nothing on the page to officially support that. And, again, I understand that it's set in the 1990s and maybe that's why there's nothing on the page. But my God, I struggled with this a lot of the time.
Ultimately, I liked the messages and the journey that Dylan went on. And the magical realism elements worked well. But this honestly feels like an adult book with a teen protagonist rather than a book written FOR teenagers 🤷♀️
Part road trip and part discovery story, Metal Fish, Falling Snow was a wonderful read that made me laugh a lot and also feel pretty grateful for the childhood I had. Dylan is a charming protagonist who bounces off the page with boundless energy - their observations, unpredictable emotions and imagination make this a very unique story well worth reading.
Cath Moore puts us in the mind of Dylan, a young person journeying across outback Australia with her mother's boyfriend Pat after her mother dies in an accident. Dylan is coming to terms with their identity, both their gender and their ethnicity. With her father absent, Pat a beer promoter and long time pokies addict decides to ferry her to the home of the family she never knew.
Dylan dreams and thinks in ways that suggest she is on the autism spectrum. She loves storytelling to anyone who will listen, she often finds very unique ways to solve problems and she loves forks. Her imagination adds plenty of colour to the road trip with Pat, often getting them into all sorts of situations that I think many parents would relate to (finding dead animals, unplugging electronics, crashing a car while parking).
This is a bit of a tear jerker, but it will make you smile too. Well deserving of a place on the CBCA notables list for 2021.
“I’ve got it wrong again. People don’t always use words to say what they think. Sometimes it can be a long unblinking stare from the other side of Parker Street on Tuesday arvo that burns like a branding iron.” Long listed for the Stella Prize (2021) this YA novel is narrated in the first person by Dylan, a teenage black girl who, after the unexpected and tragic death of her French born mother, is forced to embark on a journey, both physically and emotionally. This is not the journey she and her mother once dreamed of, sailing to France, but rather it is a road trip across Australia with her mum’s boyfriend, Pat, to her new life with her absent father’s family. This relatively small book (280 pages) is layered with themes of race, bullying, masculinity, family violence, identity, belonging, loss, grief, guilt, discovery and more. After only a brief period of adjustment to the writing style I was hooked. I was completely immersed in the inner thoughts and feelings of this smart, precocious, teenage girl and her coming of age voyage of discovery, which was at times both heartbreaking and amusing, but ultimately absolutely captivating. The author’s credentials as an award-winning screenwriter and filmmaker certainly added to the richness of this wonderful debut novel and I could feel the heat and the dust, see the old men at the bar, hear Tina Arena singing, feel the pain and the joy. Wonderful. 4.5 stars
This was such an odd book. It reminded me a lot of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close—both books feature young main characters who are coded as neurodivergent, and who are coping with the loss of a parent who understood them in a unique way. Metal Fish, Falling Snow has an element of magical realism to it, however: Dylan, the fourteen-year-old protagonist, has the ability to "slip" into people's memories, and witness both past and present events in their lives. At first I wasn't sure if this was supposed to be taken as literal or was merely a kind of dream sequence (there are several of these; dreams feature prominently in Dylan's life), but later in the book, events that Dylan wasn't present for are confirmed as true. So in some ways the very dreamlike, magical style of writing didn't exactly work for me, but I also appreciated how beautiful it was.
Stars off for mentioning Golden Gaytimes as frequently as it did. Made me more devo than usual that you can't get them here in the States 😭
Dylan is a charming narrator, most unreliable yet often wise. Really nicely written and engaging, this is a road trip/coming of age book that veers between hilarious & heartbreaking in a heartbeat. There is an element of magical thinking here too that fans of Trent Dalton will enjoy. Recommended.
A striking, highly affecting novel about family, friendship, home, belonging, grief, loss, language, racism and internalised racism. Dylan is a charming, smart and precocious child narrator with a profound perceptiveness about the way adults, in particular men, behave and how grief and loss and addiction function: “There isn’t a slot big enough but somehow the pokies have swallowed the lot and made a liar out of Pat.”
I loved the typos in the text that mimicked the way Dylan pronounces words she doesn’t yet know; it added to the verisimilitude of being in a child’s head. Australia is rendered as an incredibly hostile in Moore’s book – full of racism, toxic masculinity, substance abuse and bullying, but one that's offset by the radiance of Dylan’s simultaneous childlike musings and a wisdom that belies her years.
I'm rating this novel 2.5 stars, not because I don't think it was good but I really did not enjoy reading it. I respect what the author achieved here, and she sensitively explored some really heavy topics. But, the writing style just isn't for me and I found the main character too frustrating however much I felt bad for her.
This book is beautifully written, and too unusual to succinctly summarise. I suspect that every reader will have a different story to tell about their response to the book. It’s very different.
I loved the writing, and Dylan's journey of self-acceptance regarding her racial heritage.
But - and it's a big but - I feel it's actually her neurodivergence that drives most of the drama, even her mum's death, which sets the story in motion. The small and big struggles of Dylan's every day, and of those who care for her, are impacted by her neurodivergence way more than her feelings about her blackness. And yet that aspect of her identity and how others react to it, support her or fail to do so, that isn't dealt with in a satisfying way, IMO.
At the end of the book, when she does achieve acceptance of her race, there is a sense that all will now be well. Despite that her brain make-up has instigated every serious and terrible event in the book up to that point, there is no indication that useful skills like impulse control, emotional regulation, flexibility, or social skills will be part of her journey.
I know I will be in a minority, but this really let's the book down for me.
When fourteen-year-old Dylan's mother dies in a freak accident as a result of one of Dylan's internal obsessions, she and her mum's partner Pat travel across the Australian outback. Ostensibly to fulfill her mother's dream of returning home to Paris in a boat, but in reality to leave Dylan with her father's father, of Guynian heritage. Her Dad was violent and left home, Pat has a gambling addiction and lives on the edge of losing his job as an outback rep for a beer company and Dylan is ... different. Mixed race with black skin she struggles to communicate her inner thoughts which hint on the preternatural as she deeply senses and is in tune with the world around her, and can see and make connections with people and events over distance, and time. As the two travel, there natural antagonism leads to a bond of shared grief and when they reach their destination, the two are anguished by the separation but bout unable to express their views.
The title symbolises the two objects that represent her family - the metal fish was her father's, the falling snow from a snow globe of Paris and the also symbolise two battling halves of Dylan. Left alone with a family she has never met before, Dylan starts to deal with her grief, acknowledge her identity, and be comfortable with her blackness. At first, she is desperate to leave but she starts to bond with the mute 5 year-old Joni as they two are tuned in mentally and emotionally. When a freak storm almost kills her and Joni Dylan realises that she has finally found home.
An intense own-voices debut novel, Cath Moore's mixed race heritage shines through to create a unique inner voice expressed through Dylan. The readers is immersed in Dylan's mind, and it is not a comfortable place to be as she thinks and feels with a passion that is a step outside the world as most people see it. Intelligent and with a prestigious memory of stored facts, especially about water, which she reveres as the source of life, Dylan is passionate, keenly astute, often humourous but also intensely painful in self deprecation and assessment of others. The themes of grief, death, race, identity and family the story is complex.
Personally I found it challenging to read - this was not a voice I was familiar or comfortable with and I struggled to connect with the internal conversations and intense emotional inner battles raging within Dylan. This discomfort dissipated in the last third of the novel - partly from a growing familiarity but also I think as Dylan started to find her place and value in the world and her outer voice started to come through. The book is certainly different, the story is powerful, and many teens seeking to find a place in a world where they don't quite 'fit' will find something to connect with.
Shortlisted for the 2021 Book of the Year: Young Adults award.
While the writing is wonderful, very visual, and in the realm of magical realism it's also what lets the story down. It's a little too internal with not quite enough real-world action/events/dimension to balance the first-person pov narrative. Then the story arcs too quickly with not enough timeline to tie together all the wonderful threads thrown to the reader. For a premise that has so much gravity, it's not plausible for the main protagonist (and a teenager at that) to arc this quickly (a matter of weeks). And there are so many complexities the character is dealing with - multiples of life's big questions - as well as complex supporting characters whose stories never quite hit the mark or feel robust enough.
I often read a book without knowing a thing about it - I read the blurb after I finish the book and I was very much expecting this book to be about a life-view from the point of view of a teenage character on the spectrum. Thus the lack of drama, odd traits, powerful (but inexplicable) insights and the dreamscape landscape of Dylan's worldview. But there was no mention of this whatsoever. And what it was meant to be was about Dylan's identity and resilience. Really?! While some of that was touched upon in the story it was so thin as to be vacuous. The whole interracial thread I neither felt was plausible--unless the setting was early in Australia's history? I was confused by the world of the story/time-space - there were so many references to the 80s - the music, clothing/hair, and even tape deck (when someone buys Dylan Tina Arena's greatest hits) - but then one of the main characters also stops on the side of the road during a long cross-country road trip to take/make a phone call, implying that mobile phone and the present day?? That was neither resolved and I came to the end of the story not knowing what year we were in.
I think the story suffered by being written from a first-person pov. Although the character was rich in complexity and she was far from ordinary, not enough was made of it. Instead, it fell short because it was like being swamped in nebulous visions of the main character. There was too little drama and too-little story from of all the supporting characters that it all felt slippery and impenetrable.
The writing was faultless. The story just needed containment, a stronger, clearer premise, and more aha moments from the motifs used.
Metal Fish, Falling Snow is a gentle and easy to consume account of growing up black in Australia, where, as lead character Dylan puts it: "Brown is a loud colour to wear on your face." Despite us having an Indigenous population, as a country we seem to "think brown skin is always ‘somewhere else’ on a map" and Dylan bears the brunt of this as she negotiates life with a boy's name and brown skin in a small rural home town of Beyen.
A terrible turn of events leaves Dylan without a mother, and grieving on a road trip with her mother's imperfect partner, Pat. Dylan and Pat have a fraught relationship as they both navigate grief, guilt, a gambling addiction, and the challenges encountered on the road, mostly stemming from Dylan's neuroatypical engagement with the world: "Subtext is like a truth submarine lying underneath the surface of what people say."
The Australian setting is a character in this novel, with evocative descriptions like: "The air is sticky, makes you feel lazy like golden syrup dripping off a spoon." However the real inspiration comes from really understanding the impact of racism on Dylan's self-conception: "He is sitting with his shame like when people throw word-stones at you. Abo, nigger, coon, monkey, leaving little puncture marks all over your skin." Seeing Dylan hate, and wish to scrub off her blackness, treating it like an infection that stems from her father's side provides a way to really see the impact of racism. The line: "I also have to stay in case somewhere along his own timeline Joni feels skin shame and looking at his reflection feels like stepping on shattered glass" will stay with me for a long time. Nobody should be made to feel skin shame.
“Everyone wants the dream world to be real and the real world to be a dream. If you don’t then you’re lying. But when the worlds collide everything all falls apart.” (150)
Dylan is grieving.
When Dylan’s mother, a French woman who moved to Australia, dies suddenly in a tragic accident, Dylan is left alone. Well, kind of. Her mother’s boyfriend, Pat, takes Dylan under his wing. Kind of.
Pat is grieving too. The woman he loved is dead and all he has left of her is her “oddball” daughter. Dylan doesn’t exactly make it easy to care for her.
She’s always wandering off, chasing visions and eavesdropping on other people’s thoughts, sharing secrets with the water. See, Dylan has this sixth sense for things. She can become unstuck in time and travel through memories. She can’t change what’s happened but she can always feel the pain.
It’s hard, being stuck in the past. Yearning for a different future.
But, Pat tries to care for Dylan. To do right by her, if only for her mother. Together, the two embark on a cross country road trip. The destination? Dylan’s father’s relatives — Guyanese immigrants to Australia. Along the way, Dylan and Pat learn that not all family is blood and that love can be like nature — cruel or kind.
This is such a peculiar and charming story. The narrative is often nonlinear and meandering with no clear trajectory. I feel just as lost and afloat as Dylan throughout as I try to navigate her grief — with losing her mother and with her biracial self.
At heart, this is a story about identity and about finding yourself and where you belong and with who.
It’s vivid and disorienting. It’s breathtaking and heartbreaking.
A YA book about grief, working out who you belong with, and indeed, your place in the world. Family connection and disconnection, hurts and loss, racial and identify displacement, are the themes here, through an endearing character that comes to life through these pages.
Dylan is a black girl living in a small Aussie town, with her French mother. Her father is long gone, and her mother's boyfriend Pat is emerging as a regular person in her life Then her mother dies suddenly, leaving Pat the immense task of deciding what should happen for Dylan.
Dylan blames herself for her mother's death, and becomes fixed on wanting to return her mother, in spirit at least, across the sea to France.
There's a roadtrip, surprising adventures, and a family connection that Dylan knows little about, apart from some old letters she had found. This arrival helps her discover her culture and broader family.
Some literal interpretations of the world, and other quirks made me wonder if Dylan is a neurodiverse young person. Or grief and loss, and the trauma of her younger days, explained her ways. Her age seemed more like 9 than 14. Her magical insights into people and events is a special, unique gift, which you are left to ponder about.
There are some beautiful truths and observations from Dylan, littered throughout, which are worth the read alone. Her quirky misunderstood phrases are a treat.
This isn't a busy book - it is anchored by the voice of a neurodiverse child with if anything, tunnel vision, but it is trying to achieve a lot, and inevitably, some aspects work better than others. Dylan's voice is fabulous - it never falters and conveys the depth of her grief, and the damage to her sense of self that came from familial abandonment, but also the irrepressible curiosity and love of life that clearly endears to those around her, despite her inability to behave in socially acceptable ways. The relationship with Pat is the heart of the book, and Moore's portrait sidesteps making him either a saint or a rogue who needs redeeming. In the second half of the book, Dylan's relationship with a young family member similarly anchors the book, in a way that feels very believable to anyone who has been inexplicably befriended by a toddler. Other elements are more hit and miss: there's a gambling addiction that feels more like a plot device than integrated, and the road trip feels strangely unchanging from the desert to the sea. While Dylan's voice is clear, her emotional journey happens in fits and starts, with developments not always feeling earned and hence explicable. But what it does well, it does so well, that the book feels like a rewarding read, and I am very curious to see what Moore does next.
Dylan speaks to us directly about her ‘magical’ way of seeing the world. She’s adopted Australian parlance, French and a language of colours. She’s in tune with sound, colour, texture, Nature and a few significant people in her life. Her need to pursue what feels right gets her into a few ‘pickles’ on her road trip across outback Australia with Pat, her deceased mum’s pokey machine addicted boyfriend.
You could cry about Dylan’s lot in life but Cath Moore more often has you laughing or smirking. I grew up in Australia, of immigrant parents, and find this book reflects many of our Aussie ways and spirit. Larrikins,bigots,colourful characters, salt- of-the-Earth types - they’re all in this book
Cath Moore allows the reader to surmise for themselves how they wish to describe Dylan - autistic, psychic, gutsy, hilarious, determined, adolescent, biracial, black, magical, creative, inspiring
What Dylan does so well is grow. Dylan shares, in her own words and ways, how it feels to be her.
When readers can empathise, believe and understand how life is for others; perceptions and perspectives can change to bring greater acceptance for all humanity.
A beautifully written book. Strong, deep and probing. I often find Young Adult literature to be some of my favourite for their depth, honesty and succinct writing. This is another fine example of why I enjoy YA books as an ‘adult’.
"The only difference between humans and nature is malice. That is cruelty and wickedness rolled up into a fancy word. Nature does what it does not to please or punish, just to be true to itself. Humans use words to be cruel and hands to hurt. Because we are fearful in a way that nature will never understand."
This was a very interesting, touching book. It dives deep into exploring topics such neurodivergency, depression, and identity issues. The main character herself, Dylan, was one of the most interesting people I've read about in a novel. She thinks a lot, and throughout the story we are able to dive real deep into her thoughts and borrow her lenses so we can see the world via her eyes. She suffers from internalized racism, which is sad to read about; she makes shocking decisions, such as casually stuffing a dead rabbit corpse into her backpack or randomly hopping into the car of a complete stranger at the intersection. Author did a splendid job of exploring such sensitive topivs.This book really got me thinking about this corrupt world (which I already think about a lot but it was nice to have the insight of another girl about my age who's life and experiences are far different from mine) and I appreciate that.
This is a YA book with, I feel, an author who is trying too hard to cram too much into her debut novel. The protagonist, Dylan is convinced she is responsible for her mother’s death, and this with her feelings about the colour of her skin (she is half Black) and her grief would be enough to centre this book around. Or ditch the skin colour and concentrate on her neuro diversity, some kind of OCD. And this is just Dylan. After her mother’s death her mother’s boyfriend, Pat, a gambler, is taking her to live with her grandfather (whom she has never met) although she’s not immediately aware of the purpose of their multi-day journey across Australia. Incidents along the way and Dylan’s behaviour I found irritating. They just seemed over the top even for someone with her disorder. I enjoyed the second part of the book after she has arrived at her grandfather’s much more than the first part, and it wasn’t until near the end of the book that I really began to like who Dylan was, and Pat who could have just shrugged her off but continues to be a part of her life. It is well written and I will look for other books by Cath Moore.