The Big Impossible

Praise for The Big Impossible Edward J. Delaney's a natural storyteller. And let's be honest, how many books do you come across where you can tell this right away? Stories about the open road, families, failures, comebacks . . . And all so closely observed and mercifully unpretentious. 'Why are the memories of my youth so humid?' Delaney writes in his beautiful evocation of 1968, House of Sully. See what I mean? Such a welcome collection. --Peter Orner, author of Maggie Brown & Others and Am I Alone Here? The Big Impossible showcases all the qualities that make Edward J. Delaney's writing so great: depth of feeling, a sneaky punch of wit, and beautiful sentences that soar to great heights. Delaney had me in his spell throughout, from the chilly interior of a school shooter's mind, to a man reviewing past lives via Google Street View, to a family in 1968 torn apart by, among other things, the sartorial choice of bellbottom pants. The Big Impossible easily ranks among the best fiction I've read this year. --David Abrams, author of Brave Deeds and Fobbit Praise for Edward J. Delaney and Broken Irish [Delaney] cares about details and understands their importance to the larger themes of loss, desperation, and betrayed loyalties. His characters are not merely vehicles for ideas, but rather fully realized, familiar people, whose failures are heartbreakingly authentic. --Boston Globe For more than a decade, Edward J. Delaney has depicted the struggles of working-class New Englanders in his engrossing and thoughtfully rendered novels. . . . [He] excels at crafting poignant narratives that honor these struggling communities without whitewashing away their flaws. --Providence Journal [Broken Irish] has a complex plot and a driving, fast-paced narrative. . . . Highly recommended. --Star Tribune Searing, unforgettable. . . .Though Broken Irish deals with dark subjects it doesn't come off as heavy-handed. Exceedingly clever, the connection between the characters isn't revealed until the very end of the book, making you want to go back to the beginning to sort out the pieces and see how these characters' lives are intertwined. --Missourian Glistens with poetic charisma. . . . Delaney does a tremendous job with the different voices. . . . Perspectives jump effortlessly from character to character, brain to heart, motivation to instinct, love to fear. --Brooklyn Rail A masterpiece. --Library Journal (starred review) Beautifully and heartbreakingly balanced. --Kirkus Reviews (starred review) Readers will be captivated. . . . [Delaney] demonstrate great dexterity and storytelling acumen in his lyrical page-turner. --Publishers Weekly (starred review) In an artfully constructed story . . . Delaney tackles corporate corruption, the sex-abuse scandal in the Catholic Church, gun violence, and, especially, alcoholism (in searing passages on the ravages of drink that recall Malcolm Lowry's Under the Volcano). --Booklist (starred review) Muscular and taut. . . . A great story that reaches into a reader's life [and] poses important questions about people, fate and community. --Shelf Awareness for Readers Epic in its scope but relentlessly compelling in its storytelling--not a common combination--Broken Irish is a splendidly readable and richly textured novel. Edward J. Delaney is an enormously gifted writer. --Robert Olen Butler, author of A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain and Perfume River In Delaney's South Boston little is lost, nothing forgotten. Old sins, old wounds haunt his characters, young and old, and reverberate throughout his wonderfully complicated plot. Broken Irish is an enthralling, satisfying novel. --Margot Livesey, author of The Flight of Gemma Hardy and The Hidden Machinery An entire community is on the brink. Hope is the only hope. And faith cannot scrub the grime off its hands. With Broken Irish, Delaney delivers a gripping epic. --Adam Braver, author of Mr. Lincoln's Wars and The Disappeared If you're anything like me, you Will. Not. Be. Able. To. Stop. Reading. --David Abrams, author of Fobbit and Brave Deeds, at the Quivering Pen