When a man dreams things from the past, you’d think he’d be able to rearrange them in new sequences to please himself. But no. In my dreams, it all happens as it happened, and I see it and be it again and again and the confusion never wears off.
People drift to the valley called the Sink out of loneliness, hardship or an affinity with the land. It is an isolated place, with a swamp and an old white bridge and the forest encroaching from all sides. The solitude is tangible. But when a mysterious creature is suddenly on the loose, killing livestock and preying on everyone’s deepest fears, four inhabitants find themselves unexpectedly in one another’s company – with chilling results.
‘Tim Winton’s raw and vibrant language makes the senses jump . . . concentrated, passionate, invigorating writing’ Independent on Sunday
‘A major work by anyone’s standards . . . mysterious, painful and beautiful’ Washington Post