"Life is a work-in-progress, full of mystery and unexpected twists. The only certain thing is that whatever story you think you are telling yourself about your life, is that story will change. And then it will change again. One minute Elizabeth Crane and her husband of fifteen years are fixing up their old house in upstate New York, finally settling down roots after stints in Chicago, Texas, and Brooklyn, and the next she finds herself separated and in couples' therapy, living in a luxury apartment in the city with a old friend and his kid. It's understood that the fancy apartment and bonus family are temporary, but the situation brings unexpected comfort and much-needed healing for wounds even older than her strained marriage. Crafting the story as the very events chronicled are unfolding, Crane writes from a place of guarded hope and possibility, hyper aware that the conclusion she draws in the immediate aftermath might differ from what a future analysis might yield. As the story revises itself, Crane remains open to the process, giving conscious space to a permeating sense of change and chronicling a semblance of the real-time practice of healing. She interrogates new and old wounds and how some of our earliest memories inform the stories we present to the world, and how even the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves are bound to morph and change"--