A Piece of the Moon. Chris Fabry. 2021. [April] 400 pages. [Source: Review copy]
First sentence: LOVE, LIKE TREASURE, stays buried until somebody decides to dig. That’s what this story is about, along with life and death and a stammering tongue and a little radio station. It’s also about the power of an old country song.
A Piece of the Moon is set in the summer/autumn of 1981 in a small town in West Virginia. Many of the characters--though not all--work at an AM country station, Country 16.
I loved, loved, loved, LOVED, LOVED, crazy loved this novel. It is a compelling, heart-warming, charming, thoroughly satisfying read. And quirky. Don't forget the quirky.
It is one of those rare books that is both CHARACTER-DRIVEN and PLOT-DRIVEN. The plot starts off with a little melodrama to hook you. (It worked.) But soon even though the plot hadn't really slowed down--offering a mystery or two, plus a light romance--I found out that it was really ALL about the characters.
It had the opportunity to be many things: a mystery, a comedy, a tragedy, a romance, a coming of age novel. But really it is more than any of those things.
It is a Christian book. But don't let that put you off. Don't turn your nose up and say, well, then there's no way I could enjoy that. It is a layered read. One of those books that capture the many, many, many, many layers of being human. And, yes, one of those layers is faith-based--do I believe in God???--but it is not a flat, one-note story.
I thought it was wonderfully written. Plenty of depth and substance. An abundance of heart. But this isn't one of those precious stories that is too sickly sweet. This novel is more a potluck--a good one--where every single dish adds something special and just right. It ends with a dessert table. But it isn't a cupcake of a novel from start to finish.
I think the characters will stay with me a long time. Yes, I know I just finished it. But already I'm thinking about how I will need to revisit this one again and again. Thinking about how this one NEEDS TO BE MADE INTO A MOVIE. Or maybe even a limited series. It needs a SOUNDTRACK or at the very least a Spotify playlist. ETA:
There is a PLAYLIST!
I could gush about this one for hours--or days--mom may get tired of hearing about how awesome this one is!
Quotes:
- A voice was like a good song. One could take you far, but it couldn’t keep you there.
- Funny how grooves in an old record could bring back the pain. Words and chords and memories.
- Sometimes love is less about what you say and more about what you don’t. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
- After the news at seven, TD asked Waite to play Bill Anderson’s “Double S,” a B side song used by DJs to take bathroom breaks because it lasted five minutes. Everybody had their favorite long tune, but Waite knew something was up.
- He’d heard of stations that had countdown timers for song intros and that seemed like cheating. A timer could help you get out of the way of the first vocal, but it couldn’t bring the magic. And it seemed like the world was becoming less about magic and more about timers every day.
- There was a crossover controversy with the Oak Ridge Boys. They’d gone from gospel to country and paid a price with some. Waite had received the same criticism with his drive-time program. One letter, written in scrawled pencil, said, How can you play all those drinking and cheating songs and think a few gospel tunes on Sunday will wash away your sin? You’re a plastic Christian, Waite. The writer had signed her name and given a return address but he didn’t answer. All who wrestled in the mud got dirty. He’d learned that the hard way. He’d also learned that some people had the spiritual gift of discouragement. Wisdom said it was best not to indulge them. Next, he played Grandpa Jones singing “I’ll Meet You in the Morning,” and he thought of his wife.
- Waite turned the pot down on the finished record and hit the voice-over that said, “The best country in the country, this is Country 16.” Dolly Parton sang, “Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene . . .” The Kid’s face said it all. It was like he had uncovered the secrets of the universe. Waite lifted the needle from George Jones and put the 45 back in the sleeve.
- “Why are you treating me this way?” “I used to want to go out and save the world. God cured me of that.” “How?” “He showed me he could bring everybody I needed to help right here. And today that’s you.”
- “I appreciate it, Pastor. I know Possum does, too.” “Do you know if he’s a believer?” “I asked about that when I hired him. He wasn’t ashamed to say he knew Jesus. Because of his weight, he stopped going to church. He broke a pew once and offered to pay for it as his tithe, but the church said they’d use insurance. He never went back.” “A lot of people feel self-conscious about one thing or another.”
- After the Farm Report, Waite played two Statler Brothers’ songs back-to-back. That was another group that had started out gospel and veered toward mainstream country. Maybe it was the harmonies the men used that reminded Waite of four-part hymns. They counted flowers on the wall and watched Captain Kangaroo, then sang about the dreams and disappointments of the class of ’57. The line that always got him was about Janet who taught grade school “. . . and probably always will.” He thought about his life and his own “probably always will.”
© Becky Laney of
Operation Actually Read Bible