Beth Kephart's writing has an elegance I envy. Graceful, lyrical and defiantly simple, her command of language is evident in her blog as well as her books. Well, I'm assuming it's evident in her other books; I'm a little embarrassed to admit that though I've been meaning to read Kephart's books since I found her blog, it took My Friend Amy's drive to get me to the bookstore to order it.
In Nothing But Ghosts, narrator Katie has lost her mom to cancer and is trying to cope by taking a summer job for the reclusive old lady down the street, whose life becomes a mystery for Katie to figure out. Why did Miss Martine disappear? And when? How is it possible that no one has seen her in all those years?
The characters are so delightful I couldn't get enough of any of them--I wish the book had been longer so that I could have spent more time with them. Actually, come to think of it, the characters were almost too perfect. Katie's father, an art restorer, has infinite trust and patience with his daughter; his only flaw seems to be that he loses track of time and gets lost in his work and stays up all hours. And who doesn't love the fashion plate librarian, who's another mystery in Katie's life?
Seriously, I want more. (In the best sense of wanting more.)