There's a real skill to writing a novel where the reader catches no glimpse of the author. The only other author who I've read who does it perfectly is Anne Tyler. There's no literary turns of phrase, no sentences that jump out for their beauty, or for their clunkiness. Instead we're sunk deep into the story of what happens to a husband (Bill), daughter (Ali), best friend (Annemarie) after Annie dies suddenly at age 38. Notice all those A's? They threw me for a while. And as much as I can appreciate the skill required to write this way, this style is not for me. As well as grief the novel squashes in a few too many issues which are all sorted by the end and tied up neatly. There's a happy-ish ending for all the characters including for Bill, one which I saw coming a mile off. I know there's a lot of love for Anne Tyler, and if you like her books, I reckon you'll like this too.