Ariadne, I Love You by J. Ashley-Smith

​I love novellas, I like scary stories, I’m somewhat reluctantly intrigued by new authors. So this should have been right up my alley and really the only reason it took me a minute to check it out is that one of the reviews described it as poetic. Well, good news…this novella isn’t poetic unless you’re using that as a synonym for a thing of beauty. Because then, yeah, sure, poetic.
The poetry of succinct perfection. The poetry of telling a story so well and so completely, despite such a tight page count. This is exactly how one a novella should be.
To be fair, there are a few chapters of italics featuring something like stream of consciousness rants of a disturbed psyche, but they are actually very relevant to the plot. And the plot is simple enough, tale as old as time, it’s a love story. In a shape of a triangle. Boy meets and loves his best friend’s girl. Boy writes songs and gets famous, girl marries the best friend, has kids, dies young. Boy goes mad with grief. Just how mad…you have to read to find out.
Is it a tale of a downward spiral of a man trying to smoke and drink himself to death over an unrealized romance or a tale of a man haunted by love’s ghost? It’s subtle enough and well crafted enough of a book to offer options.
I absolutely loved it. The desperate energy and atmospheric beauty of it all. Loved how much the author fit into a novella and how well he did it. Loved the writing itself. It plays like the darkest of love songs against the soundtrack of a starless night. Just as hauntingly and starkly. Bravo. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.