Someday

For most of his long life, Steven has kept things. A gray skipping-stone from a boyhood morning at the slough. A fishing lure a friend once went under the water for and handed up to him to keep. A windowsill's worth of small objects that, set in their right order, tell the one story he has ever needed to tell - the story of Austal Moorer, the boy he grew up beside, and the love that ran like a low current beneath every year that followed. Now, old enough to say the truest things without flinching, Steven sets that love down on the page. Someday is the account of a life measured against its one fixed point: a meditation on the places that form us, on the distance between the life a person lives and the life he carries folded up inside him, and on what it finally costs - and is worth - to let another soul all the way in. Told in the plainspoken, unhurried voice of the rural South, Cade Morrow's Someday is a tender and quietly shattering novel about memory, longing, and the long work of becoming who you are.