Riding The Hurricane Book

It's rare that i start a book and finish it in one day. i wasn't too keen on doing that when i started reading the root worker. i was just going to go two chapters in and start on something else; but i was drawn in. i wasn't sure if the narrator was clarissa or ellen or omnipotence in print. i felt it leading me somewhere. like story was being woven and i only saw a few spindles of thread working at creating a masterpiece. a gargantuan piece of lace spread out across detroit in the 60s. in the life of people removed from clay roads and plows but deeply rooted in them.

i felt compelled to see the story through until a resolution was reached. still waters run deep. and death is not always physical. sometimes it the best retreat when the world is hammering you with fists and incest and child abuse and imagination and catholicism and pedophiles and blue collars and outside children and a longing for love and despair and a small glimmer of hope. all seen from the adolscent eyes of someone who exists and someone who doesn't. totally a novel that needs to be read with the bluest eye and color purple.