"Nicotine" by Nell Zink

As I finished this book and put it down, my exact words to myself were, "Well, that was weird." 

I didn't like Nicotine anywhere near as much as I liked The Wallcreeper, which is unfortunate but not surprising. I mean, I really really liked The Wallcreeper. It would be amazing for another book (even one by the same author) to live up to the expectations it set. But saying I didn't like this one as much as I liked the other one doesn't mean I didn't like this one. This one was just . . . weird. 

So, weirdness. Nicotine is about a bunch of weird characters from weird backgrounds in weird situations. It had never even crossed my mind that there may be groups of activists squatting in abandoned houses throughout the US. Meth-heads or soap-making fight club members, sure, but political statement-makers? Nah. (Guess it hadn't crossed the mind of the main character, Penny, or anyone else in her family, either, until they were actually confronted with the reality.) 

Nicotine starts with the weird Norm Baker, founder of a weird quasi-cult for the terminally ill, who has become terminally ill himself. His daughter Penny (whose mother was formerly Norm's unofficially-adopted daughter . . . yeah, weird) is by his side for his weeks-long death, after which she finds herself somewhat homeless. So she goes to check out the house Norm grew up in (which he still owned at the time of his death, but had ignored for years) and finds it full of the aforementioned squatting activists. And of course she falls in love with the first one she sees: beautiful golden boy Rob with an embarrassing secret in his pants. 

I feel like the weirdest thing about this book, though--the thing that left me with the lasting impression of its weirdness--was how everyone lived happily ever after. I'm not going to list actual spoilers here (you're welcome), but it's basically the fact that everyone gets what (read: who) they want. (Well, except maybe Susannah?) That just felt surprising to me. I kind of expected more angst and torment.