OPEN POST: The Peckerwood Book Club With Short And Long-Ass Reads And The Compelling "Tom's Crossing!"

Welcome, sloots, to another edition of The Peckerwood Book Club, today with a vital question: do you judge a book by its page count? I'll admit that I do on occasion, much as I might judge a book by its cover art. For instance, I wouldn't be caught dead at a cafe reading this, since the cartoony cover makes it look like a twee book for halfwitted knobs (I haven't read it and likely won't, but that's besides the point). Similarly, if I find out that a novel is over 350 pages, I pause, just like I do when I learn that it's under 200.  

Of course, this makes no sense at all. A novel shouldn't be judged as if you're ordering up piles of lumber or piping or bolts of fabric. The length is irrelevant, as I've learned from some terrific long-ish books, such as "Madam: The Biography of Polly Adler," which is over 500 pages, and "Of Mice and Men," which clocks in at a supermodel-slender 107 pages. 

Do you ever think twice about reading something if its page count is "too much?"

I ask, because the novel I'm recommending, even begging you to read - yes, it's that fantastic and moving and completely indelible - is a whopping 1,231 pages. Why, that's almost twelve "Of Mice and Men's!" But I know you'll thank me once you've torn through it. I couldn't put it down.

A postmodern literary saga with touches of magical realism, "Tom's Crossing" charts the plight of Kalin and Landry, high school youths who’ve stolen two aging horses set to be killed and are hoping to lead them to safety over treacherous Utah mountain terrain. They’re accompanied by the ghost of Tom, Kalin’s best friend and Landry’s brother, who recently died of cancer, and whom only Kalin can see. Moreover, Kalin and Landry are sought by nearly their entire small town, who suspect that one, or both of them, killed Russel, another youth in town.

The novel is epic, yet its sweep and majesty comes not only from the story and the jaw-dropping action, but from the manner in which its told, which includes a veritable Greek chorus of characters, including literary scholars, artists, scientists and common folk, all of whom comment on the proceedings as it unfurls, along with narration which reminds us that this story is a constructed artifact (in that sense, it recalls John Fowles' metafictional "The French Lieutenant's Woman"). 

The characters are archetypal types writ large. Kalin is introduced as an awkward youth with a special gift for horse riding who later comes into his own after death of Tom, his only friend and fellow horse rider. Landry is Tom’s scrappy young sister who also proves her mettle as the story progresses, and whose interchanges with Tom’s ghost – via Kalin, since only he can see and hear him – bring a combative spark of humor to the proceedings. For his part, Tom is both humorous and haunting as the ghost who’s vacillating between two worlds, and who sometimes chats with the dead from previous generations, including Pia Isan, an indigenous American from the 1800s.

The supporting characters are equally memorable, especially Old Porch, the novel’s vicious, morally bankrupt villain, and Allison and Sondra, who don’t for a moment believe Old Porch’s story that their children killed his son Russel. In a similar vein, the commentary from artists and regular folk doesn’t feel pretentious, though it could have. Kalin’s and Landry’s journey -  and all the terrifying forces conspiring against them, both real and conjured - is one I won't soon forget. 

Meanwhile, your happy-go-lucky Bibliophile Bunz Boy™ doesn't have a problem with length, and in fact prefers longer to shorter. So go on and give him your biggest and thickest. He can take it, I swear. 

What are you reading right now? Give us all you recommendations (and warnings, too). 

Art Credit: Pantheon