This novel could have been so much better than it was. It was one of those cases where you finish the book and think "where the fuck was the editor? why didn't somebody cut out about 30% of this and have him rewrite some of the stronger parts?" It was unnecessarily frustrating.
Scott Heim's protagonist is the meth-addicted gay son of a woman dying of cancer. He's a tweaker, truly and fully, and Heim pulls absolutely no punches showing exactly what this means. It's unapologetically real and raw. But the reader truly cares about him. He's flawed but you want to know him, you wouldn't leave him alone in your apartment but you'd meet him for coffee any day. Heim also doesn't write a stereotype. His sexuality is only brought into focus in the most relevant ways and there is never any dramatic "coming out" moment. He doesn't use the character's sexuality as a theme, as so many authors still do (thus creating a sense of "otherness" that is disrespectful and exploitative at its core). His homosexuality is simply is part of who he is, like his brown hair or the fact that he has a sister. I found that profoundly respectful and was quite moved by it.
However the story is slightly far-fetched, there are far too many unnecessarily confusing plot twists, many of the characters read like extras from central casting, and the conclusion is a unsatisfying pathetic little sigh. But again: I think this could have been fixed in editing. Perhaps this kind of editorial sloppiness is a side effect of e-publishing and print-on-demand, perhaps not. But it has to end! Too many good books are being lost in their own "should have been cut" detritus.
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