This week’s Unsung Letter brings us an insight into the beautiful silver thread that can join reader and book, the thread of personal connection brought about by the right letters strung along in front of our eyes.
On paper it sounds like a bit of a misery memoir: girl comes home to Orkney follow stint in rehab for addiction, trying to heal herself through writing and being close to nature. But Liptrot’s story is anything but miserable: she finds that her life is full of resonances that for years she was too busy to hear, but now echo to her from unexpected corners and reverberate through her new self. If this sounds rather dippy-hippy and saccharine, Liptrot’s writing isn’t that either: it’s bright and clear and incisive, knife-sharp. There is also inherent danger in her story. It is the tale of one living so close to the edge of the normal world that the drop seems at times inevitable.
The Unsung Letter is a weekly tinyletter featuring one new(ish) under-hyped book, sung to the rafters by a different writer/poet/critic/book-pusher every time.