Ever since her mother sought refuge in the remote religious community of Red Creek, 16-year-old Agnes and her siblings have lived within its protective bounds.  Agnes is careful to follow all the rules—she keeps her hair bound, her face unpainted, her eyes on the Lord, and her actions in line with the prophet's teachings.  She doesn't question the enigmatic leader, even as his preaching becomes increasingly frenetic.  Her one rebellion is going against the prophet's law prohibiting medical intervention.  Ezekiel, Agnes' 7-year-old brother, is a Type 1 diabetic.  Faith hasn't healed him—he needs frequent doses of insulin or he'll die.  Agnes won't let that happen.  She secretly barters for his medicine with a woman from the outside, even though it means risking punishment and excommunication.    

When Agnes' contact brings disturbing news from the outside about a viral pandemic that's sweeping the nation, Agnes is shocked.  The prophet is overjoyed that The End is near; his people will wait the apocalypse out in an underground bunker as planned.  Agnes refuses.  Desperate to save Ezekiel, she leaves behind everything she's ever known and flees with her brother in tow.  As they seek safety anywhere they can find it, Agnes realizes that she has a strange, otherworldly connection to the deadly virus.  Is it possible that she, an ordinary young woman with little knowledge of the world, has the power to stop it?

While Agnes at the End of the World, a debut novel by Kelly McWilliams, may sound like just another YA dystopian/post-apocalyptic story, it has a few elements that make it stand out.  Most cult stories are brutal in their depictions of religious faith, showing it as something that can only be espoused by the blind and the brainwashed.  As Agnes' eyes are opened and she begins to question what she's been taught, she grows into a faith that is meaningful in a more personal way.  She comes to understand what she, herself, really believes and knows.  To me, her journey feels authentic and I love that a YA book depicts that kind of faith as something that is not just acceptable but also healthy and sustaining.  Despite its ruminations on religious devotion, never fear—Agnes at the End of the World is not a Christian novel or even a preachy one.  Its religious themes are expertly woven into its larger plot.  As a Type 1 diabetic myself, I also appreciate the realistic representation of my disease in this story.  It's a condition that isn't addressed a lot in novels and definitely should be.  Beyond these unique features, Agnes at the End of the World also offers a cast of likable characters, a fast-paced plot, and a story well told in assured prose.  For all these reasons, I very much enjoyed this novel, which kept me burning through the pages eager to find out what was going to happen next.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of The Line Between and A Single Light, a duology by Tosca Lee, and The Outside and The Hallowed Ones, a duology by Laura Bickle)

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Living in a funeral home can be just as morbid as it sounds, but for the Bright family it represents a new beginning, a chance at a better life.  Thomas and Pauline make the move to Philadelphia, miles away from their previous home, to provide a stable future for their three girls: Maggie, Willa, and Evelyn.  While Thomas learns the mortuary business from his Uncle Fred, Pauline becomes adept at doing the deceased's hair and makeup.  Although the girls are told to stay away from the business end of the home, 12-year-old Maggie is especially intrigued by her father's new job.  She doesn't care if it's not a suitable interest for a young girl, she's fascinated by what goes on in the funeral home.

The Brights haven't been in town long before the mortuary starts filling up with bodies ravaged by the effects of a vicious sickness that is sweeping through the city.  As the Spanish Flu crisis quickly becomes a pandemic, all of the Brights must pitch in to care for its victims.  Even as their own family members fall prey to the illness, they soldier on.  With conditions worsening all around them, Maggie and her mother even venture out into the frigid streets to administer to the homebound.  It's on one of these missions that Maggie makes the snap decision to rescue an orphaned infant.  Little Alex soon becomes the Brights' motivation to go on, their reason to hope for better days.

As the veil between life and death grows continually thinner, the Brights will discover what's most important and the lengths they will go to to protect the ones they love.

I've become a big fan of Susan Meissner's dual timeline novels that connect historical events with contemporary stories.  Naturally, then, I was thrilled to receive an early copy of her newest book, As Bright As Heaven.  I find pandemics like the 1918 Spanish Flu one fascinating, so I couldn't wait to dive in.  Although the story feels very episodic, with no real plot to drive it, it's still a sweeping and compelling novel.  It tells an achingly sad story that, despite its hopeful turn, remains sad.  I'm trying to figure out why I didn't love As Bright As Heaven as much as Meissner's other books.  I liked it, just didn't adore it like I wanted to.  Maybe I would have fanciedd a dual timeline version better?  I'm not sure, but in the end, I didn't enjoy this one quite as much as I wanted to.  Bummer.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of A Death-Struck Year by Makiia Lucier; Like the Willow Tree by Lois Lowry; and Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), violence, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  I received an ARC of As Bright As Heaven from the generous folks at Berkley (a division of Penguin Random House).  Thank you!