Margo Orlando Littell

This book amplifies the voices and experiences of working class poor people in a small rust belt town. As someone who enjoys the privileges of being middle class, well educated, white collar, and urban, I appreciated learning about people whom I would likely never meet on my own. The best part about this book is how these characters, even the local slumlords who are just trying to hold their heads above water too, feel authentic and well rounded.

The weakest issue is that the story sometimes veers into sentimentality, and convenient plot twists force the narrative into a "poor but real" versus "fake rich folks" dichotomy. The book ends without resolving some key plot points, almost as if the author ran out of steam (or perhaps she wanted the readers to continue the story within their own imaginations?). Recommended for all libraries.… (més)

This is the story of a small town in Western Pennsylvania named Shelk (made up town). It is a sleepy town until a group of traveling people (known as gypsies in the book) come to town. A local bar owner, Zac Ramsy is drawn into their world when a young traveler named JT shows up at his bar hungry and cold. Ramsy's old girlfriend, Stella, is also drawn to them because she believes her daughter that was kidnapped 15 years ago may be among these travelers. The travelers begin to rob local homes and tensions rise among the townspeople. Ramsy tries to encourage JT to have his boss move the group out of town, but JT says his boss won't hear of it. Tragedy strikes, and changes the town for good.



I grew up in Western PA, and the woman who wrote this book - Margo Litell - is a dear friend of mine. This is her debut novel, and it doesn't disappoint. It is wonderfully written, and I can picture many things about our childhood home in this book. The characters, town, and nuances were spot on. I was easily sucked into the story - wondering what would happen to the towns people and to the travelers if things didn't change. The ending is haunting but very well written - which I know is hard for authors to do!



I encourage you to check out this book. It does not disappoint.… (més)

It's easy to immediately immerse myself in Littell's literary style. She draws fully formed characters without drowning the reader in every detail of the moment. Here's a taste of the types of passages you'll find. This one was a personal favorite. (Don't worry, there's no spoilers.):

"When the sun lightened the rooms, he stopped cleaning. He opened the front door to let in the fresh, cold air, and made coffee. He sat at his table and sipped it while it was near-boiling. The heat burned his tongue. His eye watered, and he sipped again. The pale pre-morning light lapping at the sky made him feel old and even more alone. There were no night-sounds now, just the slam of someone's car door. It was that slam that did it, that slam that sounded like every other slamming door he'd ever heard in his life. Maybe Liza was right - maybe it was time he left. He could do exactly this - sitting and sipping - anywhere in the world."

The main characters tackle issues of a changing local landscape and fear of newcomers. Yet, the real genius of the novel is that it captures the zeitgeist of our current times without any of the details you'd find in reality to mire the story in politics.… (més)

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood-
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
- A Vagabond Song by Bliss Carman

With a deeply atmospheric epigraph, Margo Orlando Littell slips the reader gently amongst the fallen leaves and burnished early October hues of a small, sleepy Pennsylvania town named Shelk. 'Nestled in coal-poor mountains that held nothing but white pines, eastern hemlocks, and American beeches,' Shelk is a place of routine, of safety, for its residents. However, long time roots are about to be shaken as a one-eyed man sees a hint of hope lingering in the fall skies and strangers arrive in the mountains.

Told from the perspective of Zaccariah Ramsy, the owner of a log cabin turned bar hidden in the Shelk mountains, Each Vagabond is a novel tenderly wrought. It speaks throughout of roots and the desire to belong to something, to some place, and to someone and stirs the human need for such in its readers.

With a sweeping, slow pace that builds into a torrent of both action and emotion, Littell's debut novel is a skilled piece that has inspired me to keep an eye out for future projects. While there were parts that were a little too prolonged for my preference and some confusing bits that had me doubling back a page or so to double check the backstory of a character (something that might be fixed in the published edition as this was an ARC), Littell completely demolished me with her apt portrayal of loss, longing, and personal discovery.

There are a lot of writers who can write about loss; it's part of the human experience and, at some point or another, we all have something to drawn from in that area. However, I've found that writers that can write about different kinds of loss from a truly empathetic and nuanced perspective are far fewer in number. I tend to marvel at such authors, at the depth they're able to draw from and the shape and context that they're then able to provide their characters.

Each Vagabond is a beautiful piece and I would recommend it for anyone that is looking for a read that will submerge them in its build and its characters.

I'd like to thank NetGalley and the University of New Orleans Press for the opportunity to read an ARC of this title.

Also, I'm very grateful to Margo Orlando Littell for sending me a beautiful signed bookplate. The bookplates are offered to the first 50 people that respond on UNO Press.


[Instagram post on @Thewoman_reading; the art on the bookplate and inside the envelope is lovely.]… (més)