The Vanishing by Wendy Webb
My rating: 3/5 cats
this is a good rainy-day ghostie story. it isn’t going to scare you overmuch, or be too intellectually challenging, and there are going to be times when you scratch your head over some of the situations, and say to yourself “but why wouldn’t…. and why would….?? and what about…?” but that would just be you not approaching this book with the right attitude, so shame on you.
this is an unwind in the bath with a mug of wine book (yes, a mug. slippery bath hands with delicate stemware is a recipe for glass-bath), a curl up on a windowseat during a downpour kind of book, a onesie and hot cocoa book. it’s just pure, leisure escapist reading. and in her acknowledgments, the author more or less says the same thing, which made me really happy:
With my novels, I’m not trying to define a generation, right any great wrongs, or change the way you think about the world or your place in it. I just want to craft a good story that will delight you, entertain you, grab you and not let go, and send some shivers up your spine along the way. As I’m writing, I really do think of you curling up after a long day with a cup of tea or a glass of wine and one of my novels.
which is such a charming and genuine thing to say, and i really appreciate that.
so as a book to read during a crowded holiday-shopper-packed subway commute (which is exactly the opposite of relaxing wine-bath, but requires the same kind of casual distraction), it was just the thing to take me away for a time.
big house, big dogs, big ghosts, big love. check, yeah!!
