Editorial Content for Make Me Better

Celia is desperately in need of a change. Thirty-five years old and still childless after multiple miscarriages, barely keeping herself financially afloat through participating in a series of MLM sales schemes, it's hard for her not to view herself as a failure. So when, at a grief group, Celia meets a young pregnant woman, Adelaide, who has a very different outlook on life and loss, she is both temporarily reassured and intrigued.

Adelaide shares with Celia that she grew up in an isolated community, Kindred Cove, on an island in the middle of a rare salt lake. The island only welcomes visitors once a year, by invitation only, for the exclusive Salt Festival. When Celia manages to score an invitation to the event, she feels hopeful for the first time in recent memory. Perhaps this is her opportunity for real healing, for something resembling a new beginning.

"Keeping the various characters and timelines straight requires attention but also rewards with a multifaceted portrait of a community that's anything but well."

Celia is determined to make the most of her time on Kindred Cove. So, as she is taken under the wing of Adelaide's sister Easy, the island's up-and-coming leader, she tries to rationalize even some of the more perplexing things happening on the island. Why are they forced to give up all of their possessions --- even their shoes --- upon arrival? Why are they kept so isolated from one another? For that matter, why do the visitors keep disappearing? Why are the island's children forced to participate in Kindred Cove's primary economic activity, harvesting and bottling salt from the lake? Why are there rules about when one can enter the lake itself, and why does it evoke a vague feeling of dread?

Easy and the other islanders have an explanation for everything, except for Celia's most pressing question: If Adelaide was heading back to Kindred Cove to have her baby, where are they now?

I usually don’t gravitate to horror fiction. But MAKE ME BETTER --- though it does include some dark and twisty scenes --- offers a subtle sort of horror, focused as much on character study as it is on fright. Sarah Gailey's novel requires a certain measure of careful reading. Celia's narrative --- set in a very near future --- is interspersed with a variety of other perspectives, with scenes that take place both on the island and on the mainland and stretch back as long as 20 years earlier and as recently as just a few weeks before Celia's arrival. The effect is to reveal, slowly but surely, the history of the island and its inhabitants. Consequently, readers will discern the island's secrets long before Celia does.

Keeping the various characters and timelines straight requires attention but also rewards with a multifaceted portrait of a community that's anything but well.