Ilga Raščevska "Written Off"

un viņa kādreiz tik piemīlīgā un čadīgā rudmate Sofija. Dievs vien zina, ko pa to laiku dara viņu bērni Reinis, Andris un mazā Madariņa. Zenta un viņas vīrs tālbraucējs šoferis Visvaldis gan no tiem dzērājiem turas pa gabalu. Viņi savam vienīgajam dēlam Zigmundam gatavi nopirkt un sagādāt itin visu. Juris un Elza izaudzinājuši divas meitas un pastarīti Oskaru, kam iepatikusies smukā Karīna – bet visiem taču zināms, kāda bijusi viņas māte! Tik dažādas dzīves kā slikti satīti dzijas kamoli, – saņerkstījušās, sapinušās, kožu saēstas; neko lāga no tādiem vairs nenoaudīsi.
Taču reizēm kaut kas izjauc ikdienas ritmu. Negaidīti notikumi kā upē iekritis koks, nobremzē un atsviež atpakaļ straumes plūdumu, un visa draza, ko upe mierīgi būtu aiznesusi uz jūru, sakrājas un paliek turpat, pašu krastā. Un tikai tad ieraugām, cik pārsteidzoši daudz ir vienkārši izmestā, noliegtā un nesakārtotā tajā, ko sauc par dzīvi. Varbūt kaut ko vēl var savākt, izvērtēt vai saglābt. Kamēr nav par vēlu...

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The book was published in 2016. Number of pages - 415. The book has been read once - it is in very good condition. The price does not include shipping.

Book description:
Valdone is a small village on the county border. Life here goes on much like anywhere else in Latvia. The novel reveals the destinies of four families. The eternal welfare seeker Māra, her husband Aldis, a Chernobyl survivor, and children Egmārs and Uldis – they are from Māra's first husband. Neighbors always ready for a drink together – Guntis and his once so charming and lively redhead Sofija. Only God knows what their children Reinis, Andris, and little Madariņa are up to meanwhile. Zenta and her husband, long-haul driver Visvaldis, keep their distance from those drinkers. They are ready to buy and provide everything for their only son Zigmunds. Juris and Elza have raised two daughters and the youngest, Oskars, who fancies the pretty Karīna – but everyone knows what her mother was like! Such varied lives are like poorly wound balls of yarn – tangled, intertwined, moth-eaten; you can't weave anything decent from them anymore.
But sometimes something disrupts the daily rhythm. Unexpected events, like a tree fallen into the river, slow down and throw back the flow, and all the debris the river would have calmly carried to the sea accumulates and stays right there, on the shore. Only then do we see how surprisingly much is simply discarded, denied, and disorganized in what is called life. Maybe something can still be collected, evaluated, or saved. While it's not too late...