When Paul Weber is approached by an intriguing widow to write a book about her “highly influential, but criminally obscure” husband, Paul thinks this is the first step towards achieving literary glory. But the more Weber learns about Tomas, the more he begins to question the quiet family life he leads with his wife Sylvia and their young son Josh.
This quirky book starts off simply enough … a meh writer is approached by the widow of a painter to write the deceased’s biography. Our writer is quite flattered, and soon receives cartons of papers pertaining to the man, clippings, and a number of notebooks of his personal diary.
The writer goes through a lot of paranoid introspection, first intrigued, then agog, then beguiled, all of which we the readers hear about in detail. As the story plods on, we find we can’t stop reading because there is something just a little …. off …. about it all. Why him? Why not him? Why him? And the more he reads the diary, the more he becomes convinced that a woman with whom Tomas had an affair was his (the writer’s) wife, and that his son upon whom he dotes, is not his biological son.
An on it goes. Yes? No? Maybe so? Deftly told, stringing us along, we patiently trudge after the bread crumbs being tossed to us.
Seems like a debut effort of Mr. Bedick. Not bad, not bad at all.