near the ocean or in the forest. Alaska
truly comes alive in these pages, but
so too do the quieter, more intimate
spaces within the Alaskan landscape.
I’m thinking particularly of the family’s
house, which feels like a character in
itself. The father used to tell the fam-
ily “that other houses would be built
around” their house, but this never
comes to pass, and this absence of
neighbors only stands to further our
sense of the family’s isolation—“in a
country where we had no ancestors,
in a state only twenty-some years old”
and in a house inhabited only by ghosts
and one another. Why was the house
important to you?
The image of this house on the edge of
a spruce forest lodged itself in my mind
very early on. We think of the walls
of a house as defining our domestic
space, but in the novel these boundar-
ies start to soften, for inside the house
it’s as wild as outside. And nature
constantly infiltrates the house: rain,
JULY AUGUST 2019 42
graduate of the M FA program at Syra-
cuse University, Miciah now teaches
at Vermont College of Fine Arts and
lives in Montpelier. When I read an
advance copy of her first book, Good-
night Stranger, I was mesmerized by ev-
erything I recognized: It is steeped in
the textures and images of our home-
town. Beyond that it is a captivating,
character-driven thriller with dazzling
sentences. I couldn’t wait to talk to her
about it.
One of the distinct pleasures of this
novel—and there are so many—is your
handling of the setting. Place functions
as character in Goodnight Stranger, and
the book is rife with evocative descrip-
tions that seem to externalize so much
of the story’s meaning, its symbols, and
the characters’ interior states. It was
also impossible not to see the similari-
ties to the place you and I both grew up
in. Can you talk a little about the impor-
tance of place in the book and how you
developed it?
The book is set on a fictional island
off Cape Cod, and the Cape of course
is where we both grew up. I love its
color palette, its textures, the sounds
it makes, the way it smells. I haven’t
lived there for a long time, but I still
visit often. I some-
t i mes ex per ience
this sense of long-
ing for the Cape,
even when I’m
there. It almost
feels like unre-
quited love, or
maybe more like
old love, love from
the past, half-
forgotten love. I
think you explore
this feeling a little gault: daryl burtnett; febos: katrina del mar
M
iciah Gault and I grew up in
the same town on Cape Cod.
We swam at the same secret
beaches, rode the same ferry
through the fog to Martha’s Vineyard,
saw movies at the same local theater.
Our mothers were pals, and Miciah was
one of the first writers whose sentences
I admired. We are both writers who
heard our calling early and were lucky
enough to have families and a commu-
nity who supported our obsessions. A
forest animals, mushrooms. Added to
the mix is a haunting, both in the house
and in the woods—the kind of haunt-
ing we create by projecting our human
needs and desires onto our inhuman
surroundings.
The process of maintaining a house,
of keeping the elements outside, is
FIRST FICTION 2019
Melissa
Febos
author of two
books, most
recently
Abandon Me,
published by
Bloomsbury
in 2017.
INTRODUCED BY
Miciah
Bay Gault whose
debut novel, Goodnight Stranger,
will be published by Park Row
Books in July.
Agent: Jenni Ferrari-Adler
Editor: Laura Brown
Publicist: Laura Gianino
“The image of this house on the edge of a spruce forest
lodged itself in my mind very early on. We think of the
walls of a house as defining our domestic space, but in
the novel these boundaries start to soften, for inside the
house it’s as wild as outside.”