Those with creative tastes are constantly beset by the enduring problem of making a truly perfect statement in their medium of choice. Some choose to say they are not implying anything with their work whereas others take grave efforts to say something, anything, only to be misinterpreted – or worse, unappreciated. The protagonist in Brian Cartwright's Losing the Light, Quique, has an even worse problem. He found his perfect statement, but lacks the means to manifest it.

His medium? Photography. Quique has the uncanny knack of photographing the unusual in the world (e.g., water nymphs and sea turtles the size of small islands). When a shoot with a washed-up Hollywood starlet goes pear-shaped, he discovers an opportunity that could change his waning career and possibly give him the satisfaction he missed in his youth.

Cartwright spins a tale that is equal parts fantasy and documentary. Following Quique's journey is like watching a National Geographic special, wholly captivating and perhaps too brief, but not failing to impress. This vaguely out-of-focus world is built with rich prose that emobodies the most noble facets of the human condition as well as that which seeks to drag us into banal mediocrity.

Captivating, endearing, and as close to perfect storytelling as one is likely to find, Losing the Light is vivid without being verbose, touching without being sappy. Brian Cartwright is a fierce talent. Hopefully this short novel will not be his under-appreciated masterwork.

– Emory B. Pueschel