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By Wiley Cash

A beautiful debut comparable to the cherished novels of John Hart and Tom Franklin, A Land extra variety Than Home is a captivating literary mystery concerning the bond among brothers and the evil they face in a small western North Carolina city

For a curious boy like Jess corridor, becoming up in Marshall capability difficulty while your mom catches you spying on grown-ups. Adventurous and precocious, Jess is vastly protecting of his older brother, Christopher, a mute whom all people calls Stump. although their mom has warned them to not snoop, Stump can' t support sneaking a glance at anything he' s no longer intended to--an act that may have catastrophic repercussions, shattering either his global and Jess' s. It' s a wrenching occasion that thrusts Jess into an maturity for which he' s now not ready. whereas there's a lot concerning the global that also confuses him, he now understands new realizing can convey not just a growing to be risk and evil--but additionally the potential of freedom and deliverance to boot.

Told through 3 resonant and evocative characters--Jess; Adelaide Lyle, the city midwife and ethical sense of right and wrong; and Clem Barefield, a sheriff along with his personal painful past--A Land extra type Than Home is a haunting story of braveness within the face of cruelty and the ability of affection to beat the darkness that lives in us all. those are masterful portrayals, written with coverage and fact, they usually exhibit us the intense promise of this striking first novel.

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Sample text

Why, sure," the blind man said and stopped, not to have to say the name which sounded like See. "My old fingers could use some rest now and then. " Soon, men began asking "Sonny" for favorite tunes. " "Sonny" was a name people could pronounce without taking a second look for how brown they were supposed to see "the little shirt-tail boy's" skin, and, the year he turned twelve, one of the men who liked to hear his singing gave him something he wantedand despaired of gettingalmost as much as he wanted and despaired of ever getting a banjoa pair of pants.

That storekeeper all them years a-cheating a blind man who fought to save the Union. I ain't et nothing hardly but bread and beans fer sixty year. I took you, a little Indian shirt-tail boy no better'n a animal, and I learned you how to sing and play. But grateful? " As shocked as he'd been years ago, when the old soldier had called him a "little shirt-tail boy of one of them Churakees that thinks they's white," Tsi cried. "Those reservations are the little left of all you took from us. You never could play worth a lick, let alone sing, and if it wasn't for me, you'd of starved.

Until his voice had finished changing so he could sing again, he'd worked, swinging a sledge to dent a lumber company's name into the ends of logs before they were floated down the Big Sandy River. Hed learned to make whisky, and he got a good price for it, after playing at dances. Just twenty, he had a suit, patent-leather shoes, a white shirt, a silk tie, a diamond stickpinand his own banjo. He dreamed of buying a mansion as big as a church. " It was just something that had to be saidsomething which had waited in the mind, as music had always had to wait, as seeds of flowers in the earth had had to wait"I love you, I'll grieve for you," too embarrassing, too unmanly, to say.

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