A troubled teen named Libby has accused Maeve Cosgrove, a middle-aged Maine librarian, of spying on her in the library bathroom. Despite her protestations of innocence, Maeve loses her job. But then along comes Harrison Riddles, the author who Maeve had invited to talk at the library and finally has decided to accept.

"[T]his is a novel about the creative mind. Who better to explicate that than an author and his librarian?"

Riddles has another agenda, which is to write a novel about Maeve’s Sudanese friend, Willie. In that pursuit, he seduces Maeve into becoming his go-between, therapist and, ultimately, lover. Adrift without her identity in a community where she was known first as a wife, then a mother and finally a beloved librarian, she’s a willing accomplice.

There are plenty of other characters wafting about these pages: Maeve’s good-natured husband, Jack, who is conveniently out of town looking after his mother; Riddles’ wife, who is working on a play and also is off-site; Willie’s girlfriend, who is feeling increasingly de trop and anxious; and, sadly, Maeve and Jack’s daughter, Paige, who seems to have left the nest for good.

Much of BAD ANIMALS revolves around Riddles and his oft-voiced needs, but underlying those are Maeve’s own needs that demand they be addressed as she tends to those around her. Sarah Braunstein is a deft writer, so everything in the book is used to effect as the plot (such as it is) unfolds.

One could quibble at the endless conversations between Maeve and Riddles, or Maeve’s obsessive focus on the teen who confronted her at the library. But, in the end, they help explain a lot. They illuminate each character’s stated versus felt motivation, as well as how authors write and readers read. Both double back again to understand just what they’re experiencing.

After all, this is a novel about the creative mind. Who better to explicate that than an author and his librarian?