To say that Loon Point by Carrie Classon is engaging, would be to diminish the effect that this first time novel had on me. Before I had time to think about what I should be doing with my day, I had read through a third of the book. In no time at all I was completely invested in the lives of Norry, Lizzie, and Wendall. So seamless was the investment of my time and emotions that it gave me pause, this is exceptionally skillful storytelling.

Set deep in the northern woods of Minnesota, Loon Point is primarily a story of found family, with a spoonful of the simple life, and a whole case of lemons to turn into lemonade. Norry Last has settled in for her annual springtime lull at the family lakeside resort she returned to when her marriage fell apart. Content with her solitude and routine, her peace is quickly disturbed. A blizzard brings her Lizzie, an eight-year-old voracious reader who is periodically left alone by a mother struggling with addiction. Then comes Wendell, a cantankerous old neighbor whose house collapsed around him during the storm. Lizzie is drawn to Norry by chance and location, Wendell is brought there by Bud, a local who Norry has known her entire life, but who she is starting to see may be something other than she has assumed all these years.

These unlikely companions learn to share space with one another, and become far more than the sum of their parts. As life moves on around them, they all have to decide what, and who they need in life.

While the story of Norry and Lizzie, of Lizzie and her books, of Lizzie and her mother is a wonderful exploration of love and need, it is Wendall’s story that hits me in the gut. Wendall was going to be something. Wendall was going West to be a Hollywood writer, but didn’t. Wendall knows what is wrong with the world, and no one else does. Wendall has everything figured out. But Wendall is now in his 70s, still living in his mom’s dilapidated trailer, surrounded by the rotting remnants of a life unlived. When his roof caves in while he sleeps through the blizzard, he is pulled through the roof from the wreckage of his house. He wishes he had been left with his things to die. When he is gifted a second chance, he resents the intrusion on his life. When a Doctor treats his failing eyesight, he yearns for his old eyes. Yet as he starts to unpack all the things he knows that no one else does, he comes to realize that in so many ways, he is not seeing things clearly. It’s not that his heart grows three sizes in one day, but it definitely grows three sizes in one season. His journey from an introverted loner, jailed by the limitations of his thoughts and regrets, to the adopted grandpa of the story is pure joy and gives redemptive hope to even the most cantankerous of us.

Wendell got a sense of satisfaction from knowing the truth. He was willing to accept things other people were just too timid to accept. He was part of a small minority who knew more than most people. He was special.
And now he wasn’t sure he knew a damned thing.

I am loathe to say that I saw elements of myself in his growth because his starting point is not flattering at all, but his journey is so highly reflective, and deeply honest, that it is hard not to see aspects of your own life journey in his transformation. Whether you are a mother, a grandfather, or a volunteer fireman, there is something in Wendall’s revelations that speaks to the heart of this journey of being human in such a fast changing world.

The other character that I loved most was the resort itself. Set in the woods of a deep and old Minnesota, Norry works hard to keep the resort in a sort of time loop, so that guests get what they remember when they visit. As someone who has spent many Spring and Summer days on lakes in Maine, I could feel and smell Classon’s descriptions of the resort and the surrounding woods. I could hear the creaking of the log floors, smell the remnants of a fire over a mist-covered lake. Could hear the loons as they returned to nest. Her words evoked all kinds of memories both recent and old, and had me pining for the snow to melt so that I could get back out to the water.

Ultimately the story of Lizzie and her mother, and of Lizzie and Norry, which shapes the larger narrative, is both troubling and deeply moving. It is heartwarming and devastating all at the same time. It is so reflective of things you see in the news daily, that it makes me want to break something, mostly the patriarchy and the medical system.

Norry stepped back and looked at the mother and daughter. She felt her heart hurt with a cocktail of emotions that were hard to identify. It shouldn’t have to be this hard was all she could come up with. It shouldn’t have to be so hard to be a mother – or a person.

Whether painting a picture of characters or location, Classon has created a beautiful and evocative world here on Loon Point. The author biography in the book, which I usually do not read but was too curious not to, includes the note that “In her weekly column, The Postscript, Carrie writes about the transformative power of optimism and how to find the extraordinary in the ordinary.” This perfectly captures how I felt after reading this book, a renewed feeling of optimism and wonder in the small things. Loon Point is the perfect escape for these long winter days, that seem so much longer and darker 475 days into January.

Loon Point was published on January 27, 2026 by Lake Union Publishing, it is the first novel of columnist Carrie Classon. GeekMom received a digital copy for review purposes.