"[Sullivan] artfully explores space, time, and loss, planting us concretely in settings from her childhood and adulthood while exploring the abstracts of aging. She attempts to define what makes time, time, eventually yielding to its nothingness, its inherent ungraspable qualities . . . And yet in writing and giving her memories, Sullivan establishes a boundless piece of work that reminds us of stillness."
–Meredith Boe, Chicago Review of Books
"Rare, sympathetic, exceptionally readable . . . Sullivan moves instinctively between forms as if stepping from one room into another, which is fitting because her subject is, in part, places she has called home . . . Sullivan's wonderful, satisfyingly condensed writing counters precariousness and sees off futility."
–Kate Kellaway, The Observer "Transcendent . . . structure, plot, themes, tone, and diction all combine to consecrate the ordinary alongside the exceptional."
–Leigh Rastivo, The Arts Fuse "Tightly written, rich in humanity and humour."
–Tristram Fane Saunders, The Telegraph