Like a Woman

First-time novelist Busman begins this gut-wrenching tale of childhood sexual and physical abuse in Los Angeles toward the end of the Vietnam War. At age seven, Taylor is already keeping secrets about her uncle’s late-night visits to her bed and tiptoeing around her violent, alcoholic mother. Three years later she’s smoking pot, running with a band of adolescent thieves, and spending nights alone in the park to escape her mother’s rage-fueled attacks. By the time she’s 15, she’s a full-fledged runaway living on the streets, selling drugs—and herself—to survive. Accustomed to having nothing and no one to rely on, Taylor is shocked to discover a semblance of community, family, and love among the other young girls that call the city’s alleyways and SROs home. But even as she begins to relax into this bit of happiness, a brutalized Taylor looks expectantly, and heartbreakingly, over her shoulder for the blow she expects will come. Switching between past and present and interspersed with musings from an adult Taylor, Busman’s prose is fittingly straightforward and, at times, bleakly, brilliantly sparse. This is a laudable debut. (Mar.)