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Jincy Willett…populated exclusively by what used to be called oddballs, and therein lies its strength. The narrative is predictable enough—the novel's end will not surprise—but what happens along the way isn't predictable at all…A lesser writer would have made Marylou Ahearn more spritely, more lovable, would have defanged her hatred of Wilson Spriggs. We don't expect, in comic little-old-lady novels, to encounter childhood cancer, randy preachers and a boy building a homemade breeder reactor in a tool shed. But Stuckey-French knows that if you dig deep enough, we're all oddballs, and that the world is a perilous and unpredictable place.
—The New York Times