A Small Indiscretion

Jan Ellison's debut arrives as a long letter from Annie Black to her comatose son — a confessional that circles back to a reckless winter in London and Europe she spent at nineteen. The epistolary frame is clever, and Ellison's prose (she is an O. Henry Prize winner) earns its comparisons to the best literary fiction. The central mystery of what happened that winter keeps pages turning. The honest caveat: reviewers were right that Annie withholds too long — the middle third tests patience — and the mature content is substantial: infidelity, heavy drinking, and an unflinching car-accident aftermath. Parents should know this is firmly adult territory. For readers who like psychologically complex narrators and lyrical sentences, it rewards the investment.