The Lazarus Child almost can’t be categorized as a book. Sure, it sits between covers and contains writing that, on it’s own, would pack a powerful punch. But the thought that it takes to delve into the story and understand the hearts and minds of the characters makes it, not just a book, but an experience.

Little Frankie Heywood is plunged into a coma after a bus collision in England. Only her brother, Ben, witnessed the accident and his hair has turned white from shock. Her parents, recently separated, are plunged into depression. When a doctor recommends they visit Dr. Elizabeth Chase in America, they jump at the chance. What they don’t know is that Chase’s controversial clinic, The Perlman Institute, has been plagued by lawsuits, pursued by protesters and is in danger of shutting down.

That’s all I can reveal about the plot. To say anything else would be a disservice to the reader because The Lazarus Child requires that you experience the character’s emotions as they happen. Mawson paints such a vivid picture of politics, science and – above all, love – that it’s impossible to turn away.

What’s interesting about this book is that it takes risks, breaking with tradition at almost every turn. Indeed, the main character, Frankie, is in a coma for most of the book and hardly utters a word for the bulk of the pages. The ending takes a surprise turn that I doubt anyone could expect. And, while Chase is clearly the protagonist, Mawson makes the interesting choice of making us actually decide who to side with. Certainly not everything is black and white. There are gray areas in life, and that’s true of this book. No decision is presented as right or wrong and the reader must struggle with their own conscious to determine what they truly believe in as the plot unfolds.

A good deal of the book’s effectiveness is based on Mawson’s skills as a verbal artist. He doesn’t just tell you what is happening – he shows you what the characters are experiencing. You see, through his words, Frankie’s lonely hospital room, Elizabeth’s doomed clinic and even the barren landscape of Ben’s private thoughts. While I could easily image a movie being made out of these images, I hope that this book stays in merely a print medium. Imagining its settings is truly enjoyable.

This is not a book for the faint. It will wrench your heart, twist your mind and bring you to tears and to shaking. It’s a hard read, not in the length of the words or the tone of the writing, but in the way it stretches your emotions to the breaking point and smoothly brings them back again. Sure, there are a few unlikely coincidences and a slight air of predictability in some aspects of the plot, but that’s necessary and forgiven. What matters at the end of The Lazarus Child is the way that it takes you on a journey through your most intimate feelings. It will change you.