ALMOST THERE AND ALMOST NOT

Introspective California learns about herself and her family with the help of two unlikely ghosts.

It isn’t easy for 11-year-old California, being shifted from one aunt to another after her father leaves her to go work in Alaska. When she finally arrives at Aunt Monica’s house in West Bloomfield, Michigan, she encounters a ghost dog and the ghost of her great-great-great-aunt Eleanor. As friendly spirits, not evil ghouls, these two ghosts become a regular presence, teaching California about love, friendship, and, in the case of Eleanor, even how to write letters like a proper lady. Urban deftly tackles loss, longing, loneliness, and neglect through California’s first-person narrative peppered with her many letters. Some of Urban’s descriptions of life with ghosts are stellar, evoking vivid images. However, aside from a mention of a garden in June, there isn’t much of a sense of physical atmosphere or setting. Similarly, the text lacks physical descriptions of characters, pointing to a White default, although California’s fifth-grade teacher has a Tibetan given name for her surname. That said, Urban explores California’s growth so delicately, unraveling each truth: the pain of losing her mother four years earlier, her father’s drinking and instability, and the realization that she is worthy of being loved and has people in her life who cherish her.

Skillfully written with well-drawn characters.