Emily Orr survived a lightning strike only to begin hearing voices in her head. They tell her to run. To hide. They tell her storm chasers are coming for her. The warnings are from others like her, known as earthmeldt because the lightning changed them, linking their minds with the earth itself â a sapient earth that wants only one thing: to preserve humanity, the source of its vast knowledge. But storm chasers have been culling earthmeldt since they came into being, and Emily must give up everything in her life to protect the ones she loves.
Emily Orr survived a lightning strike only to begin hearing voices in her head. They tell her to run. To hide. They tell her storm chasers are coming for her. The warnings are from others like her, known as earthmeldt because the lightning changed them, linking their minds with the earth itself â a sapient earth that wants only one thing: to preserve humanity, the source of its vast knowledge. But storm chasers have been culling earthmeldt since they came into being, and Emily must give up everything in her life to protect the ones she loves.
Bertha turned the page, deeply immersed in the narrative. The book, one sheâd read several times over the last thirty years or so, was a classic romantic adventure that never failed to titillate. In her lap, Ruby stirred. The chihuahua raised her head to look out the living room window, but Bertha hardly noticed. The heroine was on the verge of finally giving in to the heroâs persuasive charm.
Ruby let out a sharp bark, disturbing the silence and the mood.
Bertha murmured, âHush,â but the quiet reprimand was drowned out as Ruby sprang onto the reclinerâs cushioned arm, barking madly.
Bertha sighed and glanced up to see what set her neurotic little dog off this time.
The neighbor girl stood on the sidewalk across the street, one hand covered by a plastic poop bag, her pit bull stretched at the end of his leash avidly sniffing around the base of the streetlight.
Bertha had never met the girl. Maybe âyoung womanâ was a better term, but it was hard to tell how old anyone was these days. The girl lived with her aunt, who Bertha had also never met, even though the woman had lived in the house on the corner for years. Sheâd heard through the neighborhood grapevine that the aunt was a teacher at one of the two high schools in town. Bertha was unaware of what the niece did, whether she was in school or if she worked or if she was merely a hanger-on.
The girl was pretty enough to be in one of Berthaâs romance novels. Tall, slim, long wavy brown hair. Her skin was the kind of pale that suggested illness, but Bertha had seen her striding along behind the pit bull, the picture of energetic youth. She didnât walk with her head bent over a cellphone, either, although come to think of it, Bertha had noticed she always seemed to be wearing earphones. Probably stepped in time to blasting music, something Bertha with her arthritic joints could no longer even contemplate doing.
She put a hand on Rubyâs shaking body to calm her. After the unwanted interruption, she would have turned her attention back to her book, but the sky caught her attention.
A dark cloud blocked the sun and she saw a slight flash, followed immediately by a short roll of thunder. That was close. Sheâd checked the weather report this morning; this must be the forty percent chance of thunderstorms it had predicted, although it had yet to begin raining.
Ruby, who usually would have settled down by now, continued to stare out the window, her upper lip raised and twitching in a series of low growls. The pit bull had moved away from the streetlight and dropped his hind end, curving his back into a squat.
Bertha patted Ruby in a gentle rebuke. âWhat is your major malfunctââ
The words died in her throat, cut off by a loud sizzling crack! and a blinding bolt of lightning. Sheâd been looking at Ruby, but couldnât miss the bright, branching flash as it struck the streetlight. In the split second it took for her gaze to lift, the neighbor girl was already down. The pit bull leapt twisting into the air and then shot off down the street, his leash trailing behind him.
I received a copy of Emily Earth: An Earthmeldt Novel by Melissa Conway in exchange for an honest review.
Emily Earth is told with a very unique voice and style. Each chapter is short (about a page) and does not stick to one character's point of view. Instead, the POV bounces around many people, giving a slice of the story with each change. "X happened", why?; "Y", then what?; "Z", what does that mean?; "A". If that makes any sense to anyone except myself, awesome. If not, just imagine each chapter is a still-frame from Game of Thrones. Tons of characters, all unique, all revolving around the same event: Emily getting struck by lightening.
I was instantly drawn to this story because of the cover. The purple and the lightening strike scar on the model's back is incredible. Then I read the blurb and was sold in the first sentence: "Emily Orr survived a lightning strike only to being hearing voices in her head". I know?! It's such a hook!
Then I started reading, and was really shocked by the writing style and short chapters. It is not something I am used to (I've been trapped in 30 minutes long space opera chapters lately). But each chapter shined just a bit more light on the overall mystery of what is going on that I never questioned it past chapter one (also there's a doggo and talk of mental illness, I was a goner).
I really enjoyed the story and the way it was told, but it definitely will not be for everyone. I wish I could give a popular comparison so you would know if it was meant for you, but I cannot think of one. Maybe like a multiple POV Crank but not poetry? Thankfully, it doesn't really matter because the first 12 chapters (like 15 pages) are available to read on Goodreads! Definitely worth looking at because you'll know quickly whether it is for you or not, and if it is, you don't want to miss it!