The me of four months ago wasn’t even sort of interested in BONE GAP. In fact, I was actively
disinterested in it on account of the title. It put me in mind of the thigh gap, that thing all women are meant to strive for and so few people are genetically capable of achieving, only dialed up to eleven. Don’t just ensure your thighs are discrete entities with at least two inches between ‘em; peel away the flesh and leave nothing but bones. So skinny. So perf.
So gross, more like. That terrible image fixed firmly in mind, I didn’t even check to see what the book was about.
The longer BONE GAP was out in the world, though, the more positive buzz I heard. People loved it. Friends loved it. Maybe it was worth looking into after all.
I tamped down my concerns over the name (which, for the record, still nauseates me) and investigated my options. My library's holds list was long, but Scribd had the audio so I downloaded it and started listening.
And, um, I didn’t like it.
I recognized the beauty of the prose, but the story just wouldn’t click for me. It simultaneously gave me too much and too little. Laura Ruby begins BONE GAP right in the middle, well after the inciting incident has occurred. We know Finn has lost Roza, a girl for whom he harbours deep feelings. We know he lives in Bone Gap, a town where everyone is steeped in everyone else’s business. And from there, we’re expected to piece everything together based on a few spare details.
The weird thing is, this is my favourite sort of setup. Hell, it's why I love fiction. Of course you begin in the middle. Of course you trust the reader to keep up. Nobody wants every element of a story handed to them on a platter. Reading is no fun when you’re unable to discover anything for yourself.
In this case, though, I wanted considerably more than what Ruby gave me. I felt I lacked the narrative tools I needed to make sense of the relationships on the page (or in my ears; same diff). Ruby asked me to know a lot of things I had no way of knowing, without enough incluing1 to help me figure out the shape of the story.
I might well have bailed if so many of my friends weren’t over the moon about BONE GAP, or if I’d been reading it in print. Unsatisfying audiobooks usually get more of a buffer before I ditch ‘em simply because I’m trapped with them. I rarely keep more than one or two audios on my iPod at any given time, and I do much of my listening while I’m bumming around out in the great, wide world without access to wifi. I can’t easily switch to another audiobook if my current listen ain’t doing it for me, so I stick with it longer than I might otherwise have done so.
That’s how it went down with BONE GAP. I kept on listening because I was in the midst of a long-ass walk with nothing better to do.
And you know what? Somewhere around a third of the way in, the book stopped being a chore and began being awesome.