If Shepherd is writing to a potential publisher with immortality in her mind, I suspect Klefstad is writing to a potential director or producer with the film rights in his foremost thoughts. There is a visual quality to this book which readers will either find compelling and appealing or deeply irritating. Cue Tarantino split screen; action, move on. It is quick. The novel reads with a level of fast-paced disjointedness that should be accompanied by a flashing images warning. It is short, sharp and straight to the point. The reader is expected to think, assemble the pieces and reach their own conclusions which is not necessarily a bad thing but does take a little getting used to.

The language is, I hesitate to use the word real but certainly, functional; it is correct for the time and place and seems so natural to the writer and characters that the reader can be easily swept along however unfamiliar it may be to them. The characters exist in a cynical and apathetic world which is, somewhat depressingly, not dissimilar to our own. This is a place I do not want to be but vaguely recognise; the benevolent and optimistic facets of my soul, still screaming, are running for cover I know not where. Fleeting references to politics, religion, banking, crime and modern malaise can be read as a latticework of implied cause and effect or interpreted as easy ammunition to hijack and drive the plot. Again, your interpretation will likely depend on your response to this scatter gun writing style.

At this point, I need to consider a star rating and will be honest I’m struggling. If you like your novels raw, disjointed and unconventional, you would probably baulk at anything less than five stars. If you find the style antagonistic and willfully complex, you would probably give one or two stars for a good idea let down in execution. Me? I would suggest you give the story a go and, in the keeping with the book’s philosophy, I will let you draw your own conclusions.
Thank you to Dan Klefstad for being on my blog today.