Nikki Erlick, whose debut, THE MEASURE, blew readers away with its poignant exploration of life, free will and death, makes a triumphant return with THE POPPY FIELDS. In this meditative work of speculative fiction, four characters each seek out an experimental therapeutic facility that promises to ease its patients through the worst of their grief by putting them to sleep for four to eight weeks. 

“We’ve all heard the adages about a good night’s rest. We’ve all been told to ‘sleep on it’ before making big decisions,” reads the ad. So why not, it asks, enter a long-term state of dormancy to transition seamlessly from a place of acute grief into one where that grief has been “meaningfully integrated” into one’s life? If this sounds like the kind of late-night ad that seeks to exploit people’s pain, then that’s only because you haven’t met founder Ellis Jones yet. A hardheaded, ambitious visionary, Ellis truly believes in her cause. So she offers all of her treatments for free, on the basis of acceptance through her rigorous questionnaire.

This isn’t to say that the Poppy Fields hasn’t faced its share of controversy. Beyond the expected cultural debates about weakness and strength, playing god and being human, Ellis has discovered a side effect that impacts 25 percent of its patients. With the facility boasting 100,000 patients so far, with dreams of expansion, it’s a good chunk of the population. But Ellis feels that this is the aim of science: to encounter a disorder, research it, and, eventually, find a cure for it.

"THE POPPY FIELDS is a certified Big-Idea book, the kind that weaves together cultural, social and even political debates about complicated subjects while demonstrating their real-world effects through complex, layered characters."

On the day that children’s book illustrator Ava, bereaved would-be bride Sasha, and grieving fireman Ray arrive at the Kansas City airport, a natural disaster follows in their wake, effectively canceling all flights. With little else to lose, these strangers decide to rent a car and make the trek to the Golden State, only to find that they have more in common than missed flights. All three are headed for the Poppy Fields. Given the controversies, it’s not the place you proudly admit to wanting to visit, so already they know something about one another.

Each of them is desperate enough to risk judgment as they lost something far more important than self-respect. And if that isn’t enough to tug at your heartstrings, they are accompanied by an intuitive, caring dog, PJ; and, later, a plucky teenage wanderer named Sky. Unlike her companions, Sky has only just learned about the Poppy Fields. How could anyone give up two months of their life, she wonders, especially when none of us knows how long we have left? 

With little else to do on their drive, Ava, Sasha and Ray begin to tell their stories. Twentysomething Sasha, always the “favorite” student, patient, customer and friend, starts with the story of Dean. The two shared the kind of overly sentimental love that typically only appears in Lifetime movies. Yet, as their wedding date approached, she found herself wondering if this was really it, the kind of can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, World-Series love that makes it all make sense.

Terrified of disappointing her conservative family and breaking her beloved’s heart, Sasha wrote off her feelings as cold feet. Unfortunately, she never got to test that theory, as Dean was killed by a drunk driver just before their wedding. Now, people-pleaser Sasha is left with one resounding, all-consuming question: Did her doubts in some way lead to his death? Was her selfishness the catalyst for his demise?

On the surface, Ray is the dreamboat fireman you only see in calendars. However, he hides a similar kind of grief, one that has begun to chafe against his machismo persona and boys-club career. His brother, Johnny, was a paramedic who witnessed a tragic death. When he realized that he could not move on or stop grieving the life so senselessly taken, he approached Ray about visiting the Poppy Fields. Perplexed by his brother’s “weakness,” Ray shot him down, effectively ending their relationship. So Johnny went to the Poppy Fields alone. Although he completed his treatment, he died days later of an (allegedly unrelated) aneurysm. Ray wants proof that the facility is to blame, that their mistreatment --- not his own actions --- cost him his ability to seek forgiveness from his brother. 

But as Sasha and Ray navigate the three-headed monster of I could have, I would have, I should have, Ava embarks on her own journey. Unlike Dean and Johnny, her sister, Emmy, is still alive, but estranged. Unlike her fellow passengers, who have run out of time to make amends and seek absolution, she still has time to fix things with Emmy.

As these four disparate traveling companions head toward the unknown --- and what they know will be a reckoning with not just grief, but guilt --- they begin to find common ground in their resilience, their pain, and, more crucially, their healing.

THE POPPY FIELDS is a certified Big-Idea book, the kind that weaves together cultural, social and even political debates about complicated subjects while demonstrating their real-world effects through complex, layered characters. It is ambitious beyond belief, yet I can think of no better author to tackle these issues (let alone do it so beautifully) than Nikki Erlick.

Grief is a big, nebulous subject, at once universal and deeply personal, so Erlick concentrates her focus, meditating on the grief of not just losing a loved one, but surviving without them. It is still a profound tragedy, yet somehow it is also a message of hope, a reminder that there is still life to live. Of course, this hope is visible only through the veil of fiction and is understandably not clear yet to her gorgeously rendered characters. They are penned with crystalline clarity, eroded by their flaws and regrets, but compassionately tended to by Erlick. She never shies away from tragedy yet doesn’t dwell on it or exploit it either.

Just as she did in THE MEASURE, Erlick maintains an assured, taut control over her characters, intricately plotting out the “biggest hits” of their lives while weaving in secrets and twists that make them at once vividly unique and deeply relatable. Paired with Sky’s musings and perceptions of them, the novel’s glimmering throughline of hope emerges. It’s not that Ava, Sasha and Ray are jaded, per se, but having lived so much more life than Sky and witnessed so much more grief, they’ve forgotten how precious each day is.

As Erlick demonstrates through their stories and brief transcripts from other Poppy Fields visitors, that’s what grief is: imagining life without the person you love, knowing that every new adventure and accomplishment will be dimmer without their light. This sobering truth will be immediately familiar to anyone who has grieved (as will the knowledge that it is only a temporary truth). But for those who have not yet felt the pain of loss, Erlick reveals the real truth: grief is the price of love, and it is always worth it.