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"The North Country Confessional holds the formula of a winning read." - Midwest Book Review Family roots, teachings, and tradition permeate Darby Weeks's existence despite a decade's old decision to walk away from a life of privilege. They have given him the courage to survive under impossible conditions, but the most challenging of them all comes from an unexpected place: his return home. As heinous crimes peppered with riddles begin to plague the North Country, Darby's reappearance back home sparks an old rivalry between two families, releasing an evil to wreck vengeance upon everything around them. Darby's proposal of a truce between them not only fails to appease the rival family's thirst for retribution; it fuels it. The town of Bretton Woods lies between the two when old passions ignite and set forth new determinations to win an old struggle. Reunited with an old flame and guided by a pompous blowhard, Darby sets out on a journey to learn the truth about his family's past and their ancient blood feud with the ruthless Marsh family. Darby's quest leads him all over New England, from the rare books library at Dartmouth College to Author's Ridge - the final resting place of the literary greats Thoreau, Hawthorne, and Emerson. Darby discovers a family he's never known and an insidious danger lurking in the arms of a rekindled love.
* * * Finalist in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards for Best Second Book. * * * Being born the daughter of surgeons does not make you a surgeon, but what about being the daughter of a farmer? What happens when childhood and on-the-job training are one in the same? In Jennifer Neves's inquisitive and humorous collection of essays about growing up and raising a family in rural Maine, there is little doubt that memories and the stories they inspire continue to guide and shape her throughout life. This collection is both an investigation into the authenticity of family lore and a meditation on the nature of memory itself, how it changes over time and how we are changed by it. When I began this project, I imagined myself setting out to capture the essence of my early life, the bones of family lore, and the values that shaped who I am and who I will ultimately become. As I wrote, some stories moved easily from start to finish. There was a path and events traveled upon it as though they were blind to the possibility of anything else. Then, there were some stories that seemed to grind as stones caught in a gear, that turned on themselves, tangled, and frustrated. Through this process, I have come to understand that to appreciate the fullness of any one person's journey is to acknowledge there is no one story to describe it. In fact, there is no number of stories that do us humans justice. We are infinitely complicated creatures, connected to our own stories, but also to the places where our stories intersect with others-family, friends, and even strangers. It's easy to lose patience with this mess, to give up believing that, in the end, the stories we tell and retell might bring us closer to knowing our true selves. But maybe this idea of seeking resolution in any form is too tidy, and more important, too little to ask of good stories.
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