As much as her preacher husband has tried to wring it out of her, the superstitions of Abbe Deighton's South African childhood still seep out on occasion. Like now. With a bad moon rising over Honolulu, she's haunted by an unshakable sense of foreboding. If only she could summon a sangoma to chant the gloom away, she would feel much, much better. But African witch doctors are in short supply on Oahu and not even the most powerful magic can change what's going to happen under the unlucky moon. Cleo, the Deightons' 3-year-old daughter, is about to dodge in front of a car. She's about to pass from this life, leaving her parents heartbroken.

While Greg Deighton, a loyal pastor who "pretends he isn't perpetually disappointed with his flock, even though it doesn't afford him the same courtesy" (23) turns to God for solace, Abbe can't find peace anywhere. Her God can no longer be trusted, her friends don't understand, and her marriage is sinking under the weight of her pain. With nowhere to turn, Abbe dwells on her tumultuous past. The ancient curse on her family seems to be alive and well. Maybe putting it to rest will dull the aching in her heart, finally allowing some hope for the future. Or maybe the secrets of the past are better left buried in the shadows of the African night. Desperate for something to soothe her suffering, Abbe travels back to her ancestral home. As Abby's profound grief meets her shocking past, she must sort through the pain of it all to find the hope that abandoned her the day Cleo died. It's a journey both savage and soothing, alarming and affirming, troubling and triumphant, an epic trip into the ruins of her own heart. What she finds will astound her and change her life, once again.

Come Sunday, a heart-wrenching debut novel by Isla Morley, takes a penetrating look into the dark well of a mother's grief. Abbe's suffering is so palpable that a reader would have to be completely heartless not to feel for her. Her selfish moping makes her difficult to like at times, but no less sympathetic. Morley's prose is striking, making her characters and settings come to vivid life. It really is a stunning debut. However, although the book is ultimately hopeful, the overwhelming despair that looms over its pages makes Come Sunday a dark, disturbing read. It captured me with an enticing beginning and end, but lost me a little in the middle when I started to get tired of Abbe's endless moping. Heartless, I know. Overall, the book was well written, thought-provoking, and interesting. Did I love it? No. Will I keep an eye open for Morley's next venture? Absolutely.

While the book didn't enamor me as much as I wanted it to, it's receiving great critical acclaim. The winner of the Janet Heidinger Kafka Prize for 2009, Come Sunday was also longlisted for South Africa's prestigious Sunday Times Literary Award and became a finalist for the Commonwealth Writer's Prize. Like I said, it's a stunning first novel. Just not one with which I really connected.

(Readalikes: Hm, I don't know. Suggestions?)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for language and some sexual content

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of Come Sunday from Isla Morley's publicist in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!

I haven't done one of these in awhile, so I'm especially happy to welcome Isla Morley to BBB today. Her recently published debut, Come Sunday, has received a great deal of acclaim. She's a fascinating person, as you'll see in just a moment. Be sure to read all the way to the end, because that's where the real fun is - a giveaway!

Me: Hi Isla. Welcome to Bloggin' 'bout Books.

IM: Hi Susan. Thanks for inviting me to your wonderful blog.

Me: Tell me a little about your path to becoming a writer. Did you enjoy reading and writingas a child? When did you decide you wanted to write a book? How did your work as an editor prepare you for writing your debut novel?

IM: The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett was the book that first captured my imagination as a child, and ever since I have loved to read. Not so with writing. In my teens, I really wantedto be that girl who kept a tell-all secret diary. But I kept losing interest after the third of fourth entry. When I worked on a magazine, writing was not all that much thrilling for me either. Bythe time I got married and came to the US, I’d pretty much decided writing was not for me. Ten years went by, and then the character of Abbe Deighton appeared to me one night with a story that needed telling. Subsequently, writing has become exciting and immensely fulfilling. Turns out, those editorial skills are in handy in the rewrites.

Me: You obviously have great empathy for the suffering of women and children. I assume thisis, at least partly, a result of your extensive non-profit work. What kind of impact did thoseexperiences have on your life? How do they influence your writing?

IM: The empathy extends to the downtrodden too, and I’ve had it since I was a little girl. Nobody in my family was surprised I was drawn to those organizations that seek to help others. I think a lot of it had to do with my upbringing in apartheid South Africa. At the age of five, I woke up one night to the sound of terrible screaming. My grandmother’s maid was in the garden, attacking her boyfriend with a whip. I’ve thought about her many times over the years and wondered what drove her to the point of violence, and then what pulled her back from the brink of madness the next day when she served us tea and toast. I’ve seen women suffer in terrible ways, and I’ve seen them turn their suffering into something good, something that benefits not only themselves, but others too. It’s this sacrificial element that inspires much of what I write.

Me: What causes are you passionate about now that you're a wife and mother living in urban America?

IM: I grew up in a society where prejudice and fear went unchecked. It was handed down from one generation to the next, and children were taught to be suspicious of those whose skin was of a different color, whose traditions were different, whose beliefs were different. What I want for my child, and for all children, really, is to live free of the tyranny of fear, and to respect and love others.

Me: COME SUNDAY has received a great deal of acclaim/award nominations, something that's quite unusual for a first novel. How do you feel about all the accolades and awards?

IM: I am completely in awe. Humbled, really. If the book receives a glowing review, I tend to think, “That’s nice, but I bet this reviewer gives everyone five stars.” But if it’s a harsh review,I think, “See, this proves I really should put the writing aside and take up macramé.” An award, like the Kafka Prize, really silences the critics in my head. More than anything, it is an affirmation, an encouraging “You can do this; keep going.”

Me: I loved the exotic settings in COME SUNDAY. I understand why some of the story needed to be set in South Africa, but why did you choose Hawaii for a secondary setting? What does that particular location add to the story?

IM: I lived in Honolulu for seven years, and it was there that I started writing this story. Most people are afforded such a limited view of Hawaii. It’s paradise, and so it’s hard to imagine anything bad happening there. But the story takes you deep into the valleys, literally and figuratively. South Africa, on the other hand, is usually viewed in terms of its ugly past, and its violence. It’s the antithesis of Hawaii in many ways, and yet it’s in the midst of this that the promise of resurrection lies.

Me: COME SUNDAY is about a mother's profound grief over losing her child. How did you channel that kind of pain into such an authentic portrayal of suffering?

IM: That’s a good question, and to this day I haven’t really come up with a good answer to it. “Channel” is exactly the right word, though. I would sit down at my computer and close my eyes, and Abbe would present herself. It would be her voice in my head, her heart beating in my chest. I felt like her story came through me, rather than from me.

Me: Ultimately, Abbe (the MC in COME SUNDAY) has to rebuild her faith/belief system, since whatever she thought she believed was shattered by the death of her daughter. Why is going home so often a necessary part of this healing process?

IM: The gift of suffering, in Abbe’s case, is that it cleared out everything that wasn’t authentic. Much of what was part of her life she had layered in, sort of as a way to cover up past traumas. All of that gets ripped aside and she is left with the gaping wound of her childhood. Going back to the place of her birth parallels her return to a very painful period of her past, which is her only hope of having old wounds healed. But I don’t know that I’d call it going home. As an expatriate, I have returned many times to South Africa and while in transit I always think of it as “going home.” And yet the minute I step foot off the plane, I feel more like a visitor. Home becomes something we carry within. Abbe’s journey is finding her home.

Me: How connected are you now to South Africa (your birthplace)? What did you enjoy most about growing up there? What do you miss?

IM: Both my parents died in the last few years, but I am now connected to the place through a brother I never knew I had. I also correspond with several friends and family friends with whom I am very close. But I am connected in other ways too, by memories, by language, by the land which somehow has knit itself to bone and sinew. I only have to open my mouth for South Africa to come pouring out. I grew up with a deep appreciation of nature. I miss the beauty of the country, the varied landscapes, the beaches, the wildlife. But I also grew up in a multicultural society with so many different artistic and musical expressions. I miss the slang, the satire and humor, African harmonizing, Saturday afternoon barbecues, my friends.

Me: What are you working on now? Will South Africa show up again in future novels? Please say yes :)

IM: It’s hard for me to discuss what I’m working on because I try to give myself permission to fail. This project may fly or it may end up in the compost pile, who knows. But I do want to write about South Africa again at some point, and I really appreciate your enthusiasm about this special location.

Me: Lastly, I ask this of every author I interview because I'm so fascinated by the variety of answers I receive. How do you write? Do you write every day or just when the muse comes to visit? Do you make meticulous outlines or start writing and see where it takes you? Where do you write? Where do you find ideas? Is there anything you have to have by your side in order to write (food, good luck charm, music, etc.)? What makes you, as a novelist, unique from other writers?

IM: I write (or rewrite) every day, after my daughter leaves for school (in summer, all writing therefore comes to a grinding halt). Instead of a muse, for me there is a great, invisible river running above my head, and when I sit down to write, it’s like sticking my finger in the current and letting the energy travel through me and out onto the page. If I want to interrupt the flow of creativity, all I have to do is start working on an outline! I wrote Come Sunday in a closet, and I now write by hand at the patio table on the deck that overlooks the mountains. I am not superstitious, but I can’t seem to part with a little crystal a friend gave me several years ago which is supposed to have good writing juju. I usually say a silent prayer before I start writing. I don’t know what makes me unique. I would say that if I am any good at writing it must be because I have so much in common with other people.

Me: Thanks so much, Isla!