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Appreciating the little things in life, the joy of day-to-day existence, and the love for your family and your work is what Tom Lake meant to me. Tom Lake refers to a (fictional) summer stock theater in northern Michigan in the 1980s, close to the locale of the current 2020 timeline--- a cherry farm (and pears, and apples). The late eighties marked a luminous period for protagonist/narrator Lara, a time that she walked the fine line between adulting and adulthood, coming of age amid a torrent of drama that swept her up in its fury. And then there was Our Town, the play within the novel that portrayed Lara’s life on the stage (and backstage).

Lara is telling her three twenty-something daughters about her short stint as an actress in her twenties, and the brief romantic affair with Peter Duke, a famous movie star before he was a famous movie star. (And then there are the parts she keeps to herself.) The gorgeous cherry farm backdrop is like a staid but vivid character, with Lara, husband Joe, and the three girls all together for the first time in a while. Due to the pandemic, they don’t have the usual crew to help pick the fruit, so the storytelling unfolds as the family works the orchard during harvest time. Like the cherries, some parts are sweet, some tart, and all of it is juicy.

I felt the air, inhaled the scents, the cherries, the land and the whole layout of the farm while reading. And there is the kindness, too, of this family, whose flaws are also part of their strengths. The chaos of Lara’s life as a young woman is juxtaposed with the serenity of her life now, and the two timelines fluidly alternate, sometimes gently, at other times with piercing intensity. And every storyline has at least two. So, when you read about Lara in the past, or present, you just can’t help sniffing around to see the connections, of what surprise is crouched in the corner or hidden behind the door. I verily slipped into Lara’s character and imagined what decisions I would make as her, given so many pressing options and dilemmas.

Ann Patchett nails it every time, her characters are complex and her graceful pace is measured even when events are brutal. Lara is a radiant work-in-progress during her young years, many readers will see themselves in her. I was a local stage actor in Austin during my twenties, so I immersed myself in Tom Lake, pretending to be Lara acting as Emily Gibbs and then back to Lara again. The two timelines showed the difference between the fiery summer love of youth and the deep, tender, and mature love of family that you helped to create. The high points were explosive, even when they were pin-drop quiet. Lara’s low points stirred me almost to tears; I could feel her pulse against mine.

If you’ve never seen a production or haven’t read Our Town, you’re about to get a spoiler’s worth in the novel. But I think Ms. Patchett has surmised that most of her readers are already familiar with Thornton Wilder’s play. She coalesced Our Town and Tom Lake together in a way that reveals her refined skill of integration. Tom Lake and Our Town were separate but conjoined. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it will when you read the book. She also quotes Chekhov at pique (and even peak) intervals; she shares the Russian writer’s work with spare but specific devotion.

I recently learned that Patchett has never owned a smart phone, and doesn’t herself do social media (she talks to the camera and her staff completes the rest). She has never used Google, or researched on Wiki—she does it the old-fashioned way. And perhaps she’s that slightly eccentric but lovely gentlewoman you see carrying paper road maps! She gives me hope.

Tom Lake is thoughtful, deft, and life-affirming. (It isn’t a pandemic novel, even though it takes place during that time). There’s comedy, tragedy, drama—a look-back-at-your- own-life kind of book. It’s classic Ann Patchett.

There’s this passage that really tickled me from the book. It’s toward the end but not a spoiler, it’s thematic with the rest of the narrative. Lara was so busy recounting the past for her daughters that she forgot to make lunch, which she said she should have been working on while talking. “The past need not be so all-encompassing that it renders us incapable of making egg salad.�� Priorities!

Oh, and the swimming!!! Patchett captured swimming and the near-spirituality of swimming with her clear and refreshing prose. Not splashy--only the water is.