Publishers Weekly
★ 06/03/2019
In this beautiful, heart-wrenching memoir, country music singer-songwriter Moorer describes how her life changed at 14 when her father shot her mother and himself dead in their front yard in Mobile, Ala. In lyrical prose, Moorer earnestly confronts an early childhood in the 1970s spent tiptoeing around a violent, alcoholic father, hiding behind a protective older sister (Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Shelby Lynne) who was “always too close to the middle of things,” and reaching out to her beloved mother: “ got between us when I was a girl, and he gets between us now, taking up all the space and spreading over my memories of her like coffee spilled on a white tablecloth.” But there were flickers of happiness when the family made music together. In single-page chapters scattered throughout, Moorer meditates on objects of her childhood, like her mother’s coffee cups and her father’s battered 1964 B-25 Gibson guitar, which Moorer plays on all of her records. Three decades after the crime, the sisters continue to make music together to get through their lives, always harmonizing: “I dip when she dives, I go under to catch her, she hovers above to lift me.” Moorer’s masterful, comforting storytelling may serve as solace for those who’ve faced abuse, a signal for those in it to get out, and an eye-opener for others. (Oct.)
From the Publisher
"Beautiful, heart-wrenching . . . Moorer's masterful, comforting storytelling may serve as solace for those who've faced abuse, a signal for those in it to get out, and an eye-opener for others."
—Publishers Weekly starred review
"Moorer's memoir is full of backstory-memories, current notes and thoughts, and well-described metaphors that come together fluidly, all told with grit and lyrical prose. ...Her writing is beautiful and gripping and will stop readers in their tracks...a must-read."
—Booklist starred review
"There is much wisdom in her experience as well as in her reflections on what she has read and heard....Much different from most musicians' memoirs and of much interest to all who wrestle to understand tragedies of their own."
—Kirkus Reviews, starred review
"Allison Moorer is known for songs of ragged, poetic honesty — and for the emotional clarity of her country western ballads. Her debut memoir exhibits these qualities and more."
—LitHub, one of the most anticipated books of 2019
"There are few writers — few people, in fact — who could examine with such profound bravery the immense suffering and trauma in her story, infuse it with a lyrical sense of timelessness, and make us feel grateful for the telling. Blood is both unflinching and redemptive: a song of loss and courage."
—Rosanne Cash
"Like her songwriting, Moorer's prose is steeped in a rich sense of place, vivid characterization, and a story you will never forget. Not since Joan Didion's Blue Nights has grief been explored with so much beauty and complexity."
—Silas House, author of Southernmost
"Grit and grace, beauty and pain, on every wise page. Allison Moorer has given us a memoir as bloody, rich, and complex as red Alabama clay."
—Alice Randall, author of The Wind Done Gone
"Blood reveals the complicated mess of love and hurt that all too many readers will recognize. Moorer herself survived the unimaginable, and her poetic testimony should summon vigorous new attention to the public-health crisis that is male anger."
—Sarah Smarsh, author of Heartland
"Blood is the most vulnerable work you're likely to read for quite some time."
—Rick Bass, author of For a Little While
"[A] harrowing debut."—Elle
"Her voice rings with equal parts defiance and vulnerability."
—Blender
"[Moorer's] written this book like a symphony. It is expansive, and its three parts feel like movements. Moorer fills them with prose that has the sharp honesty of the greatest songwriters."
—The Bitter Southerner
"Written with brave, clear-eyed compassion for all involved, Blood is an astonishing and moving meditation on family inheritance and acceptance. Despite her family's singularly tragic circumstances, Blood tells a universal story about the things our parents pass down to us — what we learn to be grateful for, what we release ourselves from, and what we simply leave alone."
—Jennifer Palmieri, author of Dear Madame President
