Every morning, Carmen Hart pastes on her made-for-TV smile and broadcasts the weather. She’s the Florida panhandle’s favorite meteorologist, married to everyone’s favorite high school football coach. They’re the perfect-looking couple, live in a nice house, and attend church on Sundays. From the outside, she’s a woman who has it all together. But on the inside, Carmen Hart struggles with doubt. She wonders if she made a mistake when she married her husband. She wonders if God is as powerful as she once believed. Sometimes she wonders if He exists at all. After years of secret losses and empty arms, she’s not so sure anymore.
Until Carmen’s sister—seventeen year old runaway, Gracie Fisher—steps in and changes everything. Gracie is caught squatting at a boarded-up motel that belongs to Carmen’s aunt, and their mother is off on another one of her benders, which means Carmen has no other option but to take Gracie in. Is it possible for God to use a broken teenager and an abandoned motel to bring a woman’s faith and marriage back to life? Can two half-sisters make each other whole? [from back cover]
In The Art of Losing Yourself, Katie Ganshert has crafted an interesting story with clearly delineated characters who careen into each other’s stories like orbs in a pinball machine. (And both main characters have cracking-good inciting incidents.) Her characters are relatable, drawing the reader deep into their world. They are drenched with troubles, and every thought and reaction rings with authenticity.
Carmen has endured six miscarriages and is walking wounded. Her teen-aged half-sister Gracie’s been wounded by an alcoholic mother’s neglect. Enduring is a fact of their lives. It’s also a coping strategy. The journey with the women trying to cope with disappointment and to risk trusting again definitely draws you in, but Ganshert brings it so alive that at times you may wish for a breather.
Respite comes from fun, quirky characters and the pithy observations of Aunt Ingrid, the girls’ aunt who loves when she can but disappears into Alzheimer’s fog more and more often. Respite for the reader also comes from Ganshert’s skill with words. The grief she pens is achingly real, but so are the joy, faith, and encouragement that characters offer each other. And beautiful, evocative images such as this: “The clouds were dark purple bruises that stretched to the horizon.”
For those who enjoy tales of families forging through messy issues and finding gems amid the tangles, this is a must-read.