It seems almost redundant to say it was excellent, but it was. Lots of interwoven stories, done well. Good plot (as gauche as it may be to admit it in literary circles, I like plot). The writing itself is artful - almost unbelievably quotable. You know when you find yourself sticking post it notes all over a book because you keep finding sentences you love? That happens here.
Like this ... The simple things come back to us. They rest for a moment by our ribcages then suddenly reach in and twist our hearts a notch backward.
And this ... Some people think love is the end of the road, and if you're lucky enough to find it, you stay there. Other people say it just becomes a cliff you drive off, but most people who've been around awhile know it's just a thing that changes day by day, and depending on how much you fight for it, you get it, or you hold on to it, or you lose it, but sometimes it's never even there in the first place.
Luckily McCann doesn't get so caught up in crafting those sentences that he loses the overall arc of the story. It's lovely, truly. I checked it out from the library, but I'll be purchasing a copy for my bookshelf because I'm sure I'll be wanting to re-read it soon.