Wrong Way is a contemplative, deliberate novel that builds by accumulation and unfolds quietly—quietly, at least, until the truly claustrophobic denouement. The marketing bills the book's subject as "AI" or the "gig economy" but it's really more basic and timeless than that: it's a book about how identity, labor, and place can't be disentangled from one another. The syntax and style of the prose are subtly radical—Joanne's direct, active voice, subject-verb-object sentences occasionally give way to jumpcut parataxis and zeugma, giving the feeling of weightlessness at the top of a rollercoaster. It's not a comedic book by any means, but there are moments of deadpan absurdity and satire that are surprisingly funny (I especially enjoyed the delicious venom directed at the "art world" and at two-faced tech bros using social justice language).

(Full disclosure: I am a friend of Joanne's and I took her writing course at SFPC, in which she showed the students Jim Jarmusch's Paterson on the first day. Coincidentally, I think Jim Jarmusch would be a great director for a film adaptation of this novel!)