Sorrow

Jim has spent three years perfecting the art of not remembering. He wakes at six-fifteen. He works fourteen-hour days. He sleeps on the sofa. if he holds still enough, the house he shared with his wife and daughter almost becomes a house he only rents. But something has begun to arrive uninvited a shape at the edge of a doorway A small warm weight against his leg where there is nothing. He gives notice on the work he has been hiding inside. He sells the house. He drives north. What he finds in the mountains is a forest that seems to know him. A road he cannot quite explain. A view he half remembers. And a question, hovering just under everything, that he has spent three years refusing to ask. Sorrow is a slim, literary novel about grief, memory, and what a life is capable of when it has nothing left to hold. A quiet book about a man walking somewhere he cannot yet see. For readers of Emily St. John Mandel, Kazuo Ishiguro, and Matt Haig.