MorningSun_(c)2014_titoslack_iStock.jpg
Screen Shot 2016-08-06 at 12.01.22 PM.png
1338.jpg
1.jpg
MorningSun_(c)2014_titoslack_iStock.jpg

Intro


INTO

THE

CURRENT

 

A novel by Jared Young

SCROLL DOWN

Intro


INTO

THE

CURRENT

 

A novel by Jared Young

Into the Current
CDN$ 20.22
By Jared Young

What if you could relive any moment of your life? 

Daniel Solomon is not having a good day. Somewhere in the stratosphere between Bangkok and Tokyo, the jetliner on which he’s travelling breaks apart, ejecting Daniel and his fellow passengers into the sky.

Strapped into his seat thousands of feet above the merciless Earth, time suddenly stops, the wreckage of the plane freezes in place, and Daniel discovers what it means to have your life flash before your eyes. Transporting himself into the past and re-experiencing his memories in real time — but helpless to change the present — he plunges into the detritus of his all-but- concluded life.

In this daring and often hilarious novel, Jared Young defies the laws of physics and the conventions of narrative to explore the twists and turns of great sex and bad decisions, chance and grand design, and how the moments that define us aren’t always the ones we expect.


Quotes


WHAT critics are saying about into the current

Quotes


WHAT critics are saying about into the current

The novel’s prose and structure, even its typography, are inventive without being alienating. An incisive novel on gender and what it means to truly love someone.
— Globe & Mail
Into The Current is exquisitely explicit. Mr. Young has found a way to write what we are thinking, but don’t know quite how to say ourselves.
— Atlantic Books Today
In his debut novel, Jared Young overturns convention. With deft, addictive prose and description that is rich in all the right ways and places, his narrative will affect anyone with even the tiniest penchant for self-reflective nostalgia.
— Quill & Quire
Young is a gifted and subtle writer. This novel is unquestionably a great deal of fun and a terrific read.
— Publisher's Weekly
Screen Shot 2016-08-06 at 12.01.22 PM.png

Unforgettable


"JARED YOUNG’S INTO THE CURRENT IS A TORNADO OF A QUARTER-LIFE-CRISIS NOVEL: A FAST-PACED, FUNNY, PHILOSOPHICAL, INTERNATIONAL, UNFORGETTABLE ROMP THROUGH SEX, DEATH, REGRET, AND ALL THE OTHER SMALL-AND-LARGE MOMENTS THAT MAKE UP A LIFE CLEVERLY REMEMBERED."

TODD BABIAKAUTHOR OF COME BARBARIANS

 

Unforgettable


"JARED YOUNG’S INTO THE CURRENT IS A TORNADO OF A QUARTER-LIFE-CRISIS NOVEL: A FAST-PACED, FUNNY, PHILOSOPHICAL, INTERNATIONAL, UNFORGETTABLE ROMP THROUGH SEX, DEATH, REGRET, AND ALL THE OTHER SMALL-AND-LARGE MOMENTS THAT MAKE UP A LIFE CLEVERLY REMEMBERED."

TODD BABIAKAUTHOR OF COME BARBARIANS

 

Press


PRESS/MEDIA COVERAGE OF INTO THE CURRENT

Press


PRESS/MEDIA COVERAGE OF INTO THE CURRENT

"A vertiginous, disorienting thrill ride that marks the emergence of an excellent new voice."

Hal Niedzviecki, author of The Archaeologists

 

1.jpg

Excerpt


"PHILOSOPHICAL, funny, and disturbing...Keeps you guessing right to the end."

OTTAWA CITIZEN

Excerpt


"PHILOSOPHICAL, funny, and disturbing...Keeps you guessing right to the end."

OTTAWA CITIZEN

Hello, my love.
I suppose I really ought to explain.
Hours ago (years, maybe; seconds, possibly) I was napping happily in the twenty-third row of a Siam Airways jetliner shooting through the stratosphere between Bangkok and Tokyo.

The plane was all in one piece, at this point, and everyone inside was calmly doing what people usually do during long cross-continent flights: the fortyish Thai fellow in the seat beside me was asleep, head thrown back as if in villainous laughter, snoring in clicks and pops; the Japanese mother and son sitting in front of me were snoozing, too, cocked heads interlocked, just a tangle of fine black hair visible between the seats; across the aisle the Scandinavian girl in yoga pants was sitting all statuesque, eyes pressed shut, ears plugged by earphones, listening to music on her mobile phone and politely eluding the American dude sitting beside her, who, after spending the entire taxi and takeoff attempting small talk (attempting it poorly, too: all first-person pronouns), eventually got the hint and passed the next hours paging angrily through his ragged paperback copy of The Beach and ordering round after round of tomato juice from the tiny Filipino flight attendant, Ireneo, who earlier in the flight had offered me a cup of ice to press against my still-swollen black eye, and who, as I dozed, was somewhere up ahead pouring drinks and distributing cellophane-wrapped sugar cookies.

And me, yes, right in the middle of it all, napping happily, my sweater bunched up behind my head, my collection of Suicide Squad comics stacked neatly on the tray table in front of me, soothed by the lullaby drone of jet engines sucking, igniting, exhaling.

All was well.

All was calm.

And then —