40. “Winter in the Heart,” David Poyer

Last week I stayed with my aunt, who has fantastic built-in bookshelves in her spare bedroom. Sadly, she has books like this on them.

Anyway, an “old man” (that’s all we get– no age) who lives in a hole in the ground in the back woods in Pennsylvania develops a bad rash and lung infection. He passes out while being visited by a local boy, a teenager with polio, a limp, and terrible parents. The two discover, with the help of a local doctor, that Halvorsen’s affliction is the result of an illegal dumping project and join forces with an electrolysis technician who was recently fired because of her wealthy, callous, (married) boyfriend’s actions.

So. I don’t know what I was thinking– but the cover compared Poyer to Faulker, people! I’m not made of stone. Just gullible.

Since reading this book, however, I have become obsessed with making fire without matches or a lighter. I tend to get this urge in the summer, so my friend and I have made some attempts. By the end of the summer, I should be able to light shit on fire with my mind.

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Page total: 18,862