Penpal – Dathan Auerbach

Dathan Auerbach’s novel Penpal began life as a series of interconnected stories on an online horror forum, which probably accounts for some of the repetitiveness, wonky timeline issues, and disjointedness.

In the novel, a young boy starts to receive a series of blurry polaroid photos in the mail after his kindergarten class participates in a balloon activity. Each student writes a letter, ties it to a balloon and sets them free. The hope is that whoever finds the balloon will write back and include a photo of where they live. These photos will then be pinned to a map.

The unnamed narrator doesn’t think much of the first photo, but over the coming weeks he receives dozens more and upon closer inspection he discovers that he is in every single one of them. Creepy, right? Well, sure…if it had actually led somewhere.

In many ways, Penpal is a coming-of-age story. The narrator and his best friend Josh spend a lot of time in the woods, a place that is both magical and menacing. Once, the boy wakes up and finds him in the middle of the woods, lost. Once, he and Josh go looking for the narrator’s missing cat and that leads to a heart-pounding segment under a house. Then there’s the crazy denouement, which seems to come out of nowhere. And that was one of my issues with this book. It skips around and twists back on itself and although the narrator tells the reader that “the story I am about to tell you is the product of my own mental archaeology [and] like all great digs, how the artifacts fit together in a timeline is about as immediately clear as which things are important and which are not” I kept waiting for some sort of satisfying resolution.

I think Penpal had a lot of potential. There was a lot of hype surrounding this book – perhaps too much for a self-published debut. Lots of people put it in the extreme horror category. Can’t see that, really. Was I wowed by this book? No. Were there some bits that I enjoyed. Yes. Would I read something else by this author? Probably not.

Where the Forest Meets the Stars – Glendy Vanderah

Glendy Vanderah’s debut Where the Forest Meets the Stars has its positives and its negatives. On the plus side, the premise of this story is interesting. On the negative side, it’s almost entirely dialogue with very little character development and a denouement which doesn’t quite fit the book’s quiet tone.

Joanna Teale is recovering from a preventative double mastectomy and the death of her mother who recently died from breast cancer. Joanna carries the gene mutation which makes the disease likely for her, too. She is spending her summer doing graduate research on the nesting habits of indigo buntings in rural Illinois.

Out of the woods, a little shoeless girl appears. She tells Jo that she doesn’t have a home because she’s not from Earth. She only looks like a human because she has taken over the body of a dead girl, and she’s been sent to Earth to witness five miracles.

Jo is, rightfully, suspicious, but the little girl – who says her name is Ursa – has a clever answer for all of Jo’s questions. Too clever, really, for a nine year old. When Jo calls the local police, the deputy who shows up is reluctant to get involved suggesting that whatever has caused the girl to run away can’t be any worse than what might happen to her if she’s placed in the foster care system. Jo trolls the missing children pages of the Internet, but no one appears to be looking for Ursa.

Gabe Nash – the hunky guy who sells eggs at the edge of the property next door to where Jo is staying – soon gets involved with the situation. He’s hiding out from the world disguised as helping his mother who has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s. The trio form the beginnings of a #foundfamily.

The story is driven by the mystery of who this little girl is and how her arrival changes the lives of Gabe and Jo, both of whom have been closed off from the world – and themselves – in their own way. The story – as such – is readable and Jo and Gabe’s developing feelings for each other is believable – even if they, as people, are little more than caricatures.

That’s essentially my main problem with this book: everyone is one note. The tale is mostly told in dialogue. When the big turning point happens, it’s sort of violent and unbelievable in a book that has mostly been about toasting marshmallows and fluffy kittens. The requisite happy ending seems like a given and any loose ends are tied up with exposition.

This book was gifted to me by a student who said that this is her favourite book of all time, which makes it hard for me to say anything too harsh about it. I wouldn’t have picked it up on my own and I am not sure I would have read the whole thing if the book hadn’t been a gift.