2.5/5 During the first pages I was already aware of the distinct feeling that the plot may be a little to generic for me. I just did not connect to the protagonist, possibly due her narrative voice. It to me seems, while the novel contains beautifully described landscapes, aspects concerning the characters are bit predictable and even clumsy at parts. I assume first and foremost, the authors style simply doesn’t quite tickle my fancy. Somehow, the story felt like I’ve hear it before many times; what I am missing are details to bring the scenery, the uneasiness to live. The uncanny, the mysterious, the supernatural, though present, could not convince me. The general elements were all there, a moody setting, tense interpersonal relationships, vicious character traits, absurd artifact, and yet, the way the story was written dragged all of the created tension out for too long or lost it too quickly. Sure, it left me wondering what is going on, but never, not once did I feel like I NEEDED to know. The characters as well lacked personality. Sure, there are shells provided with somewhat of an appearance, key difficulties in their lives and a few interpersonal relationships. But nothing seemed to quite grab my attention as I was lacking details, minor descriptions like how a lock of hair fell after a walk outside or what the room really looked and felt like illuminated only by a candle. It is details more than anything that make a story unique, alive to me, and Hinchcliffe just didn’t pull it off in my option. Vagueness and ambiguity are great literary tools, but give the reader something…