Wanderlost

The Corner Booth

I cracked this open last night at 8:30 p.m. and didn't stop reading until I reached the end of the line at 3:30 in the morning. 'Wanderlost' will grip your attention for a number of reasons...one: like the 'corner booth' he writes about in the novel, where philosophical ponderings and beer and stories and poetic meanderings are traded amongst friends in his hometown of 'Northsaint' at the local watering hole called the 'The 419', the novel comes across as an adventure tale told amongst friends, the author unafraid to bare his soul to the reader like an old friend would do two: as the protagonist 'Max' rides the rails across America, the train becomes more than a fitting metaphor, it becomes the rythym, tempo, and feel of the novel itself, with rushing scenes and strange interactions intertwined with pauses and stops, there is spontaneous prosody mixed with deliberate, punctual phrasing three: there is an examination of the soul and an examination of America that is not the pining of a young man blaming everyone for the ills of society, but an honest beating of the chest and a search for meaning in a world that seems meaningless. This is an extraordinary effort for a first novel and I expect more from Mr. Olson, and eagerly so. In the same vein of Jack Kerouac and Hunter S. Thompson, here is a writer howling at the American landscape and destined to become an American writer of significance. The torch has been passed...