Freya, the novel's protagonist, has never swum in the ocean, and over the course of the morning she learns how. She discovers that she can dive under a swell, "feel the tug of the wave's underturn," and shoot up when it has passed; that she can swim fast up waves that are about to break, then "crash through their crests and fall down their backsides";
I've spent years observing French people and how life is lived here. I am fascinated by French history and culture, from the arts to national characteristics. For instance (and I'm being general here, obviously there are exceptions) French people hate to be wrong about anything and will insist "I never said that" if they give you duff information. They know that they were wrong, will laugh when you point out that actually there are witnesses to what they said,
Sam sits in his noisy apartment, surrounded by the distractions of his digital life. His research is scattered across a dozen tabs. He writes a sentence, then deletes it. Doubt creeps in: "Is this the right way to start?" Before long, he's scrolling through social media, half-heartedly checking his email, and staring at his chaotic desk-a mirror of his cluttered mind. After two hours, he has little to show for it but frustration and dread.
