Micka loves drawing and wants a pup, but with older brothers into violence and petty crime, and a mother who can’t read the notes his teacher sends home from school, neither he nor the pup stand much of a chance.
Then a new boy, Laurie, starts at Micka's school. The two boys both have vivid imaginations, but Laurie's fantasies are of magic and revenge, and he soon pulls Micka into a dangerous game where the line between make-believe and real life -- and, ultimately, death -- is increasingly blurred.
Written in direct, uncompromising yet compassionate prose, and with a breathtaking clarity of insight, Micka is an astonishingly assured debut -- and an unforgettable story.
'Micka feels like a book that wrote itself . . . Frances Kay is an accomplished story teller who has found her darkest tale' Anne Enright
'I read this at a single sitting. Once started it was impossible to put aside . . . Atomising and searing, Micka is a remarkable first novel' Carlo Gébler