When the local book club decided to start the year with a discussion of Tell the Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt, I dutifully got on the library wait list. Holding steady at number 44 on the list for weeks, I found the book’s summary and thought the sad story of a favorite artist uncle dying of AIDS in New York City of the 1980s might be one I’d skip.

Then I read a short review by Liberty Hardy:

” I thought (this book) would be so sad that I would end up needing to take breaks. This wasn’t so. It was sad, but it was also beautiful …Brunt did a good job of not holding the reader’s head under water, which isn’t always the case with authors who are trying to pull your heartstrings. I had a nine hour travel day that flew by because of this book.”

Any book that can hold a reader’s attention on a long plane ride is worth finding. So I’ve downloaded the book to my Kindle, and am engrossed in the family drama and social stigma that young June, the narrator, seems to be navigating well. I am looking forward to reading the whole story.

Have you read the book?