Sing, Unburied, Sing

Monsters walk among us, and we humans really need to figure out what to do about them. (I don't know if that's Ward's message; it's just what hit me hardest in this book). I know it's not their fault – know that they're just broken – but they're monsters nonetheless and their actions inflict such tragic costs. Can't we all agree that it would be cheaper better healthier saner, more humane for everyone, to find ways to recognize and treat the problem?

This book really moved me. I felt rage, grief, wonder, admiration, love, and hope, strongly correlated with each distinct character, and I guess that sounds like they're onedimensional but they're not: they're human, deep, all of them, just each one feeding their inner wolves differently. Ward writes beautifully, and pulls off a neat trick: shifting first-person narration between three radically different main characters, each with a unique and credible voice. This doesn't alter the reader's sympathies - I don't think Ward was trying for that - but it does add an extra dimension (no pun intended) to the reader's experience.

How I'd love to see a day when a book like this is incomprehensible to a reader.