A computer program has a story to tell, but the data has been corrupted. 
 I struggled to find words for this. I'm still struggling, to be honest. My favorite books have the tendency to twist reality to their whims, and this one is no exception. Finishing it out, I feel... satisfied with a lingering sense of "what the hell just happened?" 
 This doesn't read like a debut novel. The rhythm of the language (simple though the words might be), pushes the reader onwards, straining against the confines of the narrative. Skillful use of repeating imagery throughout the spiraling narrative packs emotional gut-punches as both the reader and the main character slowly realize what, exactly, is going on. 
 One thing that I didn't expect is that, as much as it's a post-disaster novel, it's also a very post-9/11 novel. I wasn't really expecting that. It's hard to realize that the formative experience of my late childhood is now history, part and parcel of collective memory, to be referenced in novels. It's not a bad thing, by any means, but it gave me a jolt. 
 This is a story about love, about loss, about what is left after the flesh ceases; and, ultimately, it's a book about genocide. 
 I love it to pieces. More, please? 
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 ETA: Particularly in the first few chapters, there are some scenes and language not suitable for minors.