It is deep winter and the mornings have been dark for a while now. But I remember when I actually registered it. Perception is funny that way. Change gradually happens over time, but noticing it takes one studied moment. All of a sudden - or maybe not - you perceive that shift in the seasons. I look out the window as I get dressed in the early mornings and it feels as though it is the middle of the night. My running buddies and I begin our run in the woods by the river in the dim, grey-black light of dawn now; that strange, sort of other-worldly time when eyesight is a secondary, sort of backseat sense, when my feet intuitively take over and I don't even have to think about navigating the trail.
It's been a dark, otherworldly kind of week in other ways too. A Lovely, Dark, and Deep kind of week, in fact.
This haunting, lyrical story is Amy McNamara's debut, but it is clear that she...
Blood at the Root
"A gripping, timely, and important examination of American racism."
- PW Starred Review
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