“It’s a sense of despair about writing itself, a sort of throwing up of hands, as if to say I’ll put this down but it’s not what I really mean because what I really mean cannot be put into words.”

I read this short novel earlier this year but way after everyone else had, hello, it’s me again, Late To The Party. As I take walks and see fall foliage and Canada geese, this book came back to mind. I wish I hadn’t waited so long to read it, but I’m glad I did. This story about art and relationships was so compact and well done. In very few pages, the author had me rooting for the main character and deeply invested in her choices. I didn't agree with everything Casey did, but I really wanted good things for her. I hesitate to call it a quiet book because that makes it sound boring, so instead, it’s very even, which belies the inner conflict and striving. It made me think about expectations of women regarding career and life stage, like when is something a “real” job or milestone in the eyes of society?

I originally read Writers & Lovers digitally, borrowed from the library, and I was delighted to find a nice hardcover copy at my local used book store, which has since closed its doors. Ah, well.