John Fulton

continued

I had this vision, though it was more of a feeling than something I saw, of what the Glory was. . . . It was a single moment in which I noticed all the red evening light in the room and felt Jenny leaning against me, felt her every breath, and heard a few mindless bird chirps — a black string of Glory sound — coming from some place outside — a treetop, a rain gutter — I would never see. It wasn't that you were going to die and go on living for an eternity after death. It wasn't that at all.

The quality of these perceptions — joined with Fulton's ability to convince us that they belong to his young protagonist — makes this quiet first novel memorable.

John Fulton reads from More than Enough at Shaman Drum Bookshop on Thursday, September 19.   

[Originally published in September, 2002.]