Note: Spoilers will be relegated to a “Spoiler Section” at the end of this review. Read the first half without fear.
Kate Forsyth’s The Wild Girl took me by surprise. Some books possess a singular kind of magic, catching you from the very first line. For me, The Wild Girl was not that book. Blame it on my being particularly distracted the day I began it; ascribe it to my being so busy, I could only read the first few chapters in five-minute increments (this is never a recipe for a well-enjoyed book)–whatever the reason, the novel’s first pages left me disengaged.
But somewhere along the way, a 180° occurred and The Wild Girl became one of those books I couldn’t stop thinking about. I was distracted at work (sorry, boss!) as I mulled over various plot-points. As I swam laps, I untangled my emotional responses to some of the more traumatic scenes. One day, I even delayed my own, jealously-guarded writing time to get a few pages further in Forsyth’s novel. The book even invaded my dreams. Continue reading “Napoleon & the Grimm Brothers walk into a bar….”