An American woman wakes up alone in a tent in the Norwegian mountains. Outside a storm rages and the fog is dense. Her phone is dead. She doesn’t have a map or a compass or any food.
How she ended up there, and the tragic events of her past emerges over the course of this slim, gripping novel. We discover that she’s a writer with a bad case of writer’s block – she hasn’t written a word since her husband and daughter died in a tragic car crash. As we watch Jane’s life spiral out of control, we also see how she got here – her troubled parents and loving marriage. – Goodreads
I have a hard time reading books, in which the author does this really big circle around an issue or the point before actually getting to it. This makes for a long drawn out experience that I am not up for.
In this read, the author relied heavily on intrigue to keep me reading the book. You’re constantly wondering what is going on with Jane and why is she so melancholy and blah to everything around her. You know about the death of her husband and daughter but there is something more to what is going on. The author takes beating around the bush literally and that is what killed the book.
But beyond this, the author breaks down grief, regret and well I wouldn’t necessarily say forgiveness because you don’t believe it actually happens. . . more like acceptance. This wasn’t a bad book but it was too drawn out for me to fully enjoy it.