HARD MOUTH

When terror about the future intersects with the anticipated death of a loved one, many people act out in previously unimaginable ways.

For 30-something only child Denny, finding out that her father has been diagnosed with cancer for the third time sends her into a complete meltdown. This is compounded by the fact that he has decided to forego treatment—no chemo, no radiation, just in-home hospice care. When Denny learns this, she unravels, but she does so without tears, pleadings, or prayer. Instead, the unwelcome news leads her to sabotage her job at a laboratory, and, after getting fired, she decides to vanish, telling no one where she is headed. Her new home, a remote cabin on a distant mountaintop, lacks electricity and is heated only by a wood fireplace. There are no nearby neighbors or stores, and she must bring enough food with her to last for the duration of her stay—projected at a year. To say that this is a challenge for someone who has never lived outside the Washington, D.C., suburbs is an understatement. Nonetheless, Denny wants this, badly. Or thinks she does. At times, Gene, an imaginary friend she has had since age 14, pops up and offers quips, advice, or opinions. Then he, too, vanishes, and despite Denny’s purported desire for solitude, after a horrible storm destroys the cabin’s roof, she is both relieved and frightened to find a mysterious man named Haw in her front yard. Haw is simultaneously menacing and appealing, and it doesn't take long for Denny to become entangled with him. Suffice it to say that the love-hate relationship that unfolds is not for the faint of heart. There’s violence and cruelty, all of it matter-of-factly described, with Denny betraying little-to-no emotion about the circumstances she faces.

By turns creepy and thought-provoking, this is a resonant debut about love, independence, and mourning.