Deb Travis, a park ranger in Death Valley, has spent the last thirty years grieving the death of her brother, Ron. He was the light of her life, her mentor and protector, a beautiful young man with an easy laugh and a bright green thumb. But according to police, he shot himself in the house he shared with five others in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury neighborhood. No letter was left behind, only a journal packed with diatribes against the government, the war, and the cruelty that human beings inflict on each other. The cause of death seemed evident; the reason was never quite clear. That was in 1975.
Three decades later, Deb receives a disturbing comment on her website, a tribute to Vietnam vets like Ron who died by suicide. She begins to question everything she had learned to accept about his death. As she begins digging into the past, she reconnects with Nikki Gold, who she once knew as Nik-Knock, the adorable little girl who grew up in the house on Ashbury Street with her mother, Willow, and others, including Ron. Nikki tells Deb that Ron was the closest thing to a dad Nikki ever knew. Now 37 and a child therapist in Brooklyn, Nikki’s work with a young client whose sister committed suicide has triggered memories from her own childhood. She had previously thought of her upbringing as fairly happy, if unconventional, but the shadowy images beginning to surface are traumatic and disturbing. Something happened to her at the house on Ashbury Street, but she’s not sure what.
As Deb and Nikki search for answers together and separately, they are met with even more questions. What painful truth was Ron hiding from his housemates? What did they know about him but leave unsaid? Will knowing what happened to Ron help any of them heal? Does shedding light in the darkest corners of the people we love bring us any closer to them? Or are the secrets we keep sometimes the only thing saving us?
Thank you for visiting my page, and welcome. About my background--I started out as a part-time writer, dancer, and actor. In between I had day jobs in publishing and technical writing to pay the bills. For several years I wrote and performed theater pieces at the Z Space in San Francisco. Once I turned my hand to writing fiction, I never looked back. My first novel, Finder of Lost Objects (Ithuriel’s Spear Press, 2014), was a finalist for a Lambda Literary Award and recipient of an International Latino Book Award. My second novel, The House on Ashbury Street (Mumblers Press, 2023), was one of Lambda Literary's most-anticipated book for March 2023. I live and write in San Francisco.
Do we really want to shine a light in the darkest corners of our past? Author Susie Hara asks this question in her heartfelt and thought-provoking novel--and gives us no easy answers. Just as in life, there is no tidy bow to tie up the loose ends here, only (if we're lucky) acceptance and peace. Along the way, you'll fall in love with her endearing characters. Their friendships and memories of simpler times pulled me along as much as the mystery at the center of this wholly original story.
I won a kindle copy of this book in a Goodreads giveaway. It took me a long time to finish - I just wasn't in to it. Too many names for the same characters. Too fluid of time from past to present that I would forget where we actually were in the book. The big reveal didn't feel that big, the highs and lows of the book all happening at a speed that leveled them out and making it feel very monotonous.
A brilliant exploration of family and trauma and our fraught history
Susie Hara is a terrific stylist. She makes you love the Ashbury Street family and yearn to unravel its secrets: her keen sense of place made me feel equally at home in Brooklyn and Death Valley. For the latter place she remjnded me why I yearn to return there. Worth multiple reads.
A flood of memories during my life and times living in San Francisco near Haight-Ashbury washed over me while reading this. The author captured place and time so perfectly.
This novel evoked memories of my youth when I lived in a rooming house called Toad Hall while attending San Jose State University between 1972 and 74. For me it was a journey back in time to a significant period in my life. The plot was engaging and the characters were authentic with complexity and depth. Historical references to the counter-culture era were accurate and well integrated in the novel. Susie Hara deftly represented facets of social support, loneliness, marriage status, suicide, bereavement, work environment, social status, LGBTQ and racial identity, as well as political events of the time.