As is the usual case lately, I read Our Wives Under the Sea based on my writing group's recommendation. There are not a lot of books that appeal to everyone's taste within our little group, but this one has slowly been making the rounds.
This is definitely a literary story. The meandering narrative was a lesson in story telling. The whole time I was reading this book, I couldn't stop asking 'how did she do this?' How does someone fit snapshots of hazy memories together in a way that slowly illuminates a single picture, while keeping the reader enthralled at the shape slowly forming? I think the only way to answer that story will be to read it again a few dozen times.
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