Floating between the shadows of the Eiffel Tower and the rundown shanties of the American west, Katy Masuga takes us on a gutting ride of love and loss, crafting a new vocabulary for the inescapable bonds of kinship and the wounds that make us. The Blue of Night is told with the straightforward ache of a mountain ballad, leavened with the modernist time of Faulkner and Proust. I awoke from the book devastated but clear, lit with courage and hunger, brain tickled, ready to race until my lungs burned. -Lauren Du Graf, award-winning arts critic