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'The scorpion needs to cross the river. He watches the boy's eyes as he scurries onto the quivering chest. I need to be brave enough not to sting. The water flows over the boy's chest and touches the scorpion's feet. The fear causes a reaction, and the tail pierces the chest. In this instant, he knows that he will drown, he knows the pain he is causing the boy, but the reaction is familiar; the fear has made him feel there is no other way. In Paul Mitchell's debut novel, We. Are. Family., masculinity is laid bare. Three generations of the Stevenson family are crippled by the pretense of appearing strong. Familiar equilibrium is punctuated by trauma. We see the scorpion's tail pierce the boy's chest to deliver the poison; we feel the father's eyes want his sons to have fun fishing because as males, the challenge of knots and poles and the silence of water has to give us a chance to feel our souls. The bold title is absolutely perfect. In my California surfer dialect, THIS! BOOK! ROCKS!' (Introduction)
