What starts out as a story about a tragic drowning in 1954 in a logging town in Coos County, New Hampshire twists slowly and almost undetectably into being a diagram of Irving’s method of writing a novel. Don’t expect a “nothin’ but net” basketball shot at the end of the tale, but do know that everything will come together nicely and yes you are expected to pick up bread-crumb-clues along the way while dodging a farting dog and one or more bears. Don’t worry. Irving doesn’t hide the clues – but he doesn’t do like the college professor all “looking for an easy A” students flock to – and tell you what to expect on the final exam either. I started getting bogged down in the mud-middle of this book – but I kept moving and burst out of the log jam to love this book like I’ve loved all the other John Irvings I’ve read.