By Lynn Stegner
Kate Riley isn't the kind of heroine we meet in so much American novels. Self-centered, shape-shifting, pushed from one guy to a different and one urban to the subsequent, she is all too real—but on no account the unswerving and regular homebody of idealized womanhood. after we first come across her, Kate (or Katherine, or Kate of the Prairie, or Katrina) is set to suffer exploratory mind surgical procedure for a she herself has fabricated. Sobered by means of the gravity of the method, she commences a trip of reminiscence that takes us again to the Saskatchewan village the place she grew up and to the singular occasion that altered her endlessly and irrevocably set the process her life. From her early life, within which she used to be held captive to a mom long past mad, via her grownup existence, which unfolds as a spell binding series of fellows, deserted young ones, and perpetual flow, Kate’s tale is one among desperation and noteworthy invention, a surprisingly American story, brilliantly narrated by means of certainly one of our most unique writers. (20070413)
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Extra resources for Because a Fire Was in My Head (Flyover Fiction)
The brooch with the ruby, Kate. The ruby rose. ” A strange half-laugh escaped her. Her hand with the dropper of hot oil scribbled about in the air. Kate’s hand shot reﬂexively to her ear. ” “But Mum . ” It was confusing, it was all so confusing. Hand still clamped over her ear, Kate answered, “I suppose so,” because there didn’t seem to be any other way out. Her mother put on a shocked face. “Dr. Bartholemew is comkate 39 ing this morning. ” Frowning as though confounded, Fiona straightened and took a step away from the table.
Her mother put on a shocked face. “Dr. Bartholemew is comkate 39 ing this morning. ” Frowning as though confounded, Fiona straightened and took a step away from the table. “I ought to give you a clout alongside the head for the lying. Young Mrs. Carthy’s hemorrhoids was so terrible last week that every time she had to have a movement she fainted away. What kind of stunt do you think you’re pulling, when Mrs. Carthy and the others are needing me? Her with a baby coming. And Dr. Bartholemew driving down from Moosomin .
She tugged the blue knit beret down over her shaved head. His eyes, yellow . . her head, cold . . these together were the small, unmarked keys that opened memories. What had happened then? Where was the rest of Netherﬁeld, the rest of her life there, and then her life after? How had it led inexorably to this place, to this moment that was a place? This place that might end all her moments to come? The future of the future. Memories came at her from all directions; there was no orderly lining up of events .
Because a Fire Was in My Head (Flyover Fiction) by Lynn Stegner