Grief opens doors, sometimes unexpected ones, as Caroline Davies, a 29-year-old event planner, is about to discover. In Chicago to bury her father, Caroline has orchestrated the funeral down to the make-up on his face. Why then does she feel so blank? After indulging in a few too many--strong drinks, harsh words, taboo kissess--on the night of the wake, Caroline runs away. Her partner in crime is 58-year-old Virgil Harris, her uncle, who's on the run from secrets of his own.
Jean gives an overview of the book:
That night of the wake, my father in a mahogany casket in his study, the house smelling of whiskey, of freshly showered skin and dry cleaning, sliced lemons and horseradish, of votive candles and furtive cigarettes, een a hint of marijuana, which I wanted to follow after days comparing costs, chipping down the price of the monument, selecting flowers and lining up eulogizers, after so much death and detail, I deserved a drink.
I deserved more than that, actually, and I got it, but first of all I got drunk.
I write to explore questions, and to see what language can do. Nothing makes me as happy as a well-tempered sentence. My areas of interest are explorations of the spiritual dimension of family, love and place.
My mentors have been many and wonderful. Special shout outs...