The first blueberry book came to my attention when I was in my early teens and my mother took a “Kiddie Lit” class at Ole Miss one summer. To help make that possible as the oldest daughter in a family of six, my reward for sister-sitting, housekeeping, and cooking chores was the stack of books she brought home. They were her assignments and my treasure! It was also a start in my future that I didn’t imagine at the time.
Of course, one of those books was Blueberries for Sal. Mama and I both loved this book that took us to Maine, far from the north Mississippi hills that we knew. In years to come, it would become the favorite book for my four-year-old youngest son. He would check it out at the library on our weekly trip and take it back the following week, repeating the process long after he and I could say the words from memory. Other books would be in the stack, but Blueberries for Sal was always either coming or going. (My rationale for not buying him the book was to instill in him a love for trips to the library.)
Opening my most recent book, The Berry Pickers, I was taken back to Maine’s blueberry patches. It seems that Sal’s sweet story is not the only one to take place in that setting, and this adult book has a far darker side. At the very beginning, a Mi’kmaq family from Nova Scotia follows their tradition of picking berries in Maine during the harvest season. Their four-year-old daughter Ruthie disappears, last seen by her six-year-old brother Joe. Chapters rotate between narration by Joe and a girl called Norma as they follow the guilt, grief, and secrets that arise from this event that change two families forever. You could read this book in spurts, but from the time you finish the prologue, it will be calling you back for another chapter.