THE HOUSE IS STILL THERE
Thirty years ago, a boy spent one summer in his grandmother’s house on the shore of Lake Huron.
The house sat at the end of a long driveway lined with maples. It had forty stairs down to the water, an orange front door, and a view of the freighters moving through the dark. His grandmother restored every room herself. She fed everyone who came up the drive. She loved him fiercely.
That was the summer of the rats. The summer of the midnight walk. The summer he began noticing the things no one else seemed willing to see.
Now, decades later, a box of his mother’s belongings and an old videotape have brought him back to a place he has spent most of his life trying not to remember. As he searches through the artifacts left behind by the people who shaped him, he finds himself drawn back into a childhood marked by family loyalty, buried grief, and a house that seemed to take far more than it ever gave.
Moving between the sunlit freedom of the American West and a Michigan shoreline haunted by memory, The House Is Still There is a literary novel about inheritance, love, addiction, and the things that remain long after we leave them behind.
For readers of Stephen King’s 11/22/63 and The Body, Peter Heller’s The Guide, and Pat Conroy’s The Prince of Tides.
