This is the second book I've tried to read by this author, and I just can't get any traction. In this one she seems to go for two styles of writing, neither of which works for me. Style #1 is dreamy and floaty and makes me feel like I'm under water. Or better yet, like I'm lying in a field of poppies....poppies....poppies.... Very soon the psychedelic fairies and butterflies will arrive to explain that someone slipped me some magic mushrooms. Style #2 is more concrete, but it consists of those paragraph-long, comma-laden sentences I never get tired of hating. Tough luck for me. Nothing can beat Lawrence Thornton when it comes to writing about the disappeareds.
