Special Topics in Calamity Physics

I wrote this account one year after I'd found Hannah dead.
I thought I'd managed to erase all traces of that night within myself.
But I was wrong.
Every night when I tried to sleep, I'd close my eyes and see her again, exactly as I found her, hanging from a pine tree by an orange elctrical cord, her neck twisted like a tulip stem, her eyes seeing nothing.
Or else that was the problem. They'd seen everything.
This mesmerizing debut, uncannily uniting the trials of a postmodern upbringing with a murder mystery, heralds the arrival of a vibrant new voice in literary fiction.