From Red Leaves:
"Here is the illusion--a normal day predicts a normal tomorrow and each day is not a brand-new spin of the wheel, our lives not lived at the whim of Lady Luck."
Yes, how often to we pass accidents, observe incidents that just missed us, could have involved us, but did not.
"Suspicion is an acid, that's one thing I know. Everything it touches it corrodes. It eats through the smooth, glistening surface of things and the mark it leaves is indelible. Late one night I watch a rerun of the movie Alien."
"In one scene, the alien bleeds a liquid so corrosive it immediately eats through first one floor of the space ship, then another and another. And I thought, it's like that, suspicion, it has nowhere to go but down through level after level of old trusts and long devotions. Its direction of always toward the bottom."
What a beautiful job the author does of building suspicion. When I first started reading it, I thought I knew where the author was headed. This, despite the superb blurbs for this particular book from Harlan Coben, Peter Straub, Susan Issacs, and Joyce Carol Oates.
So, I says to myself, the book cannot possibly be headed where it looks like it is headed. This is a master of misdirection. So, to experiment, about a quarter of the way through, I wrote down where it naturally looked like it was going, along with where a savvy reader might second-guess it to be going. Then, about three-quarters of the way through, I wrote down where I thought it was going then.
I was wrong all the way around, and delighted to be wrong. I did not know until the end exactly what would come at the end.
Harlan Coben called RED LEAVES "one of the best books you will read this year--gripping, beautifully written, haunting, surprising, and devastating. Thomas H. Cook has long been one of my favorite writers. RED LEAVES will show you why."
Peter Straub says, "Thomas Cook writes like a wounded angel, and RED LEAVES is one of his masterworks. Sorrow, suspicion, fear, and forgiveness hang suspended over an almost unbearably increasing tension."
Interesting is Cook's choice of epigraph, which is from Pulitzer Prize winner Stephen Dunn's "Visiting The Master."
In Dunn's poem, the would-be writer goes to the master again and again to learn the secrets of writing a good book. The master tells him again and again that there are no secrets but that "A good woman is hard to keep. Oh, return to zero, the master said. Use what's lying around the house. Make it simple and sad."
The author not only made it simple and sad, he made it wise and haunting and brilliant.