About this book: (from the publisher) Three people, each crying out for help.There’s Karen, about to lose her father; Abby, whose son has autism and needs constant care, and Michael, a family man on the verge of bankruptcy. As each sinks under the strain, they’re brought together at Moreland’s Clinic. Here, behind closed doors, they reveal their deepest secrets, confront and console one another, and share plenty of laughs. But how will they cope when a new crisis strikes?
About the author: Sarah Rayner was born in London and now lives in Brighton with her husband and stepson. She worked for many years as an advertising copywriter and now writes fiction full time. Visit her online at www.thecreativepumpkin.co.uk.
First impressions: From the cover and the hook beginning, I was tempted to grab my own cuppa and curl up with this one–not a bad choice, as it happens.
If this book were a movie, I would rate it: PG-13 for profanity.
Reminds me of… The Reading Group by Elizabeth Noble; The Family Way by Tony Parsons
Will especially appeal to… women who have struggled with anxiety and depression, or know someone who does.
This story matters because… it reminds us that being able to talk about our feelings is critical to our mental and emotional health. Isolation is a dangerous thing.
My take: I tend to enjoy novels that feature an ensemble cast, the kind where no main character plays a bigger role than any of the others. And yes, I did enjoy this one. My interest never flagged as the narrative rotated through each character’s story line, weaving in and out of the others’. I engaged with each character fairly equally (maybe with Michael least of all, but probably only because he was a man who really, really had a hard time opening up), and not once did I want to rush through one chapter to move onto the next.
I didn’t realize when I started reading that this novel would be about anxiety and depression, disorders that affect each of the characters to one degree or another. As one who has had a recent brush with both (they often come together, one leading to the other), I could appreciate the research and care that went into crafting the story around this theme–almost as if the author had been there herself. And what do you know, she has, as she acknowledges at book’s end. Another Night, Another Day was her way of shedding light on a commonly misunderstood–yet commonly felt–condition. Bravo. Reading her book was a kind of therapy in and of itself, and I often found myself nodding as I cheered the characters on toward healing.
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Thanks to St. Martin’s Griffin for providing me a free copy to review. All opinions are mine.