Nonfiction

In the fiercely intelligent latest from Myerson (The Lost Child), an unnamed middle-aged novelist considers her daughter, a young woman long in the throes of drug addiction. Rather than tell a straightforward tale of familial devastation, the narrator addresses her daughter directly (“There’s a night—I think this is the middle of June—when we lock you in the house”) and questions her and her husband’s middle-class parenting choices, as well as the ways she herself was raised and whether it’s honest and worthwhile to write about a family’s pain. The harrowing story of her daughter, who’s been in and out of rehab and now lives on the street, includes accounts of sex in exchange for drugs (“It doesn’t matter how much it hurts or frightens you, or what the consequences are, as long as they promise to fix you up”). It’s interspersed with other narratives, some of which are more effective than others. Highlights include the narrator’s startling and potent examination of the nature of infidelity while she carries on an emotional affair with a former lover. Less effective are her remembrances of her late mother, a cruel and unpredictable woman with whom she lost touch, which pale in comparison to the urgent material on parenting and art. While the dreariness of the subject matter might be exhausting for some, it is never overwrought on the page. Myerson’s narrative is focused and powerful. Agent: Karolina Sutton, CAA. (Jan.)