'EVERY GOOD BOY DOES FINE' | A review Depth in man's climb from disability

Tim Laskowski's debut novel goes beyond genres.
By CAROL TAYLOR
DALLAS MORNING NEWS
"Every Good Boy Does Fine," by Tim Laskowski (SMU Press, $23.95)
Robert is trapped in a group home for the disabled where he has little privacy, and in a body that won't do what he wants and by memories of his past "real life." Ten years after suffering brain damage in a rock-climbing accident, he's still struggling to climb, but this time out of despair, confusion and hopelessness.
In this novel, Tim Laskowski paints a frank, sometimes painfully honest portrait of a man who must scrounge for crumbs of dignity. Robert, an intelligent and thoughtful man, is struggling to connect emotionally with the people around him: the workers paid to care for him; other residents of the home, whom he barely acknowledges; and his girlfriend, Lorna, who is dying from multiple sclerosis. Visits from his parents and teenage son are few and leave him aching and confused and more desperate.
But there is some hope in his life. Transitions, a rehab program he's about to start, may give him greater independence and a chance to reclaim some privacy. A volunteer writing coach, Ellen, is helping him record his thoughts, which will help sort out his emotions and hang on to the experiences that streak out of his impaired short-term memory. And he has the small hope that his left hand will improve so he can play the piano again.
Robert remembers music, but can't make his body play it. "I still remember the notes: quarter, half, whole. I remember their places on and between the lines: "Every Good Boy Does Fine." But I can't maintain a rhythm. I can't move my fingers swiftly enough, with proper cadence, to capture any melody, even if it's a song I know well, like Christmas carols I've known a lifetime."
A substantial work
Laskowski's first novel is told with compassion but not pity. He manages to give substance to the most important people in Robert's life, particularly his son, even though the book clocks in at a quick 176 pages and we see some of them only in brief snatches.
"Every Good Boy" transcends genres. It's for adults who still seek parental acceptance and for parents trying to connect with their children. It's for all who struggle to accept their limitations and for those who try to overcome them, even with actions that aren't appropriate.
Although the subjects and themes are serious, "Every Good Boy" isn't heavy. The quickness of the read shows the writer's light touch and belies the depth of the novel. It's hard to believe it's his first.