All posts tagged: obsession

Stunning debut from Raymond Fleishmann, HOW QUICKLY SHE DISAPPEARS set in the Alaskan wilderness, plus lonliness, grief, isolation, obsession, writing from a parent’s perspective

By Leslie Lindsay  Impressive literary debut from Raymond Fleischmann centered on a lonely mother in the Alaskan wilderness. ~WEDNESDAY’S With Writers|Always with a Book~ I was immediately intrigued in the premise of HOW QUICKLY SHE DISAPPEARS (Jan 14, Berkley) by Raymond Fleischmann. It’s been twenty years since Elisabeth watched her twin sister, Jacqueline disappear without a trace. Now, in 1941 and Elisabeth Pfautz is living temporarily in Alaska with her husband John, and their twelve-year old daughter, Margaret. The marriage is stale, the environment dark and gray, along with it being so remote, we truly feel the isolation. Elisabeth clings to the idea that her sister is still alive—but where? And will they ever be reunited? A German bush pilot—Alfred—lands unexpectedly on Tanacross’s tiny gravel airstrip. After befriending Elisabeth, he commits an inexplicable act of violence, followed by a startling revelation: he knows what happened to Elisabeth’s sister. But he will tell her only if she fulfills three requests. I found the prose gorgeous and intriguing, but HOW QUICKLY SHE DISAPPEARS is a a slow burn. Still, …

Fiction Friday:

By Leslie Lindsay Working on something new to piece into my novel-in-progress, this is meant to show Steve, a biomedical engineer’s obession with his first-love, Annie.  Let me know your thoughts!  “The only thing I know is promises should have been made.  A contract, an algorithm of love:  Girlfriend says she needs spaceàbreak-up.  End of relationship. Option Two: Girlfriend says she needs spaceàgive her space but not too much. Keep her hanging in your world.  Because you love her too damn much.  It’s like the fine art of balancing a chemical equation.  God, but Annie hated chemistry.  She was the entropy agent, blasting into the relationship generating thermodynamic heat, a contrast between order and disorder.  I will her into my mind, fast-forwarding the years. Annie is small, delicate, frail.  She sits in a chair at a sunny window.  Her hands are mottled with age spots, prominent veins blistering blue and purple.  I cup her hand with my own, watching it transform before my eyes—youthful, slender straight fingers spread forth.  I lean in and kiss her cheek.  “You’re …