A single father grapples with the loss of self-identity in the wake of trauma, and begins to long for spiritual connection in this literary novel filled with wry humor and wit.
Twenty-six-year-old Tyler Manion is overwhelmed by the loss in his life. Six months ago, his wife died suddenly, and tomorrow will be his last day at General Motors. Raising his nearly two-year-old son alone, he puts up a brave front, pretending to have it all together. But he can't seem to focus, and his spiritual attention deficit disorder is keeping him from any meaningful connection with the one who could help him most in his hour of need. A high school girl basketball phenom, a gruff World War II veteran, a hippie nun and a beguilingly brainy graduate student will each help him rediscover his sense of identity, and perhaps find his spiritual bearings. Scraps of Grace opens in Michigan in the summer of 1990, a time of turmoil and of hopefulness, across the world and at home. Often irreverent in tone and detail, Scraps of Grace resides in the conflicted present moment but abides in the eternal. At the end of the book, there is a page of discussion questions for book clubs, designed to deepen readers' literary exploration of the themes of identity loss and spiritual renewal. "Fascinating and recommended." --Tom Morrisey, bestselling novelist and author of The Art of the Tale
"Entertaining and inspiring, Scraps of Grace captures a turbulent moment in time, while exploring timeless questions of faith." --Chuck Snearly, author of The Guardian of Detritus and Far Out Man
"Scraps of Grace more than delivers." --Indie Reader
"A poignant tribute to the complexity of life. What a beautiful story, so artfully written." --Amy Drake, Waterleaf Women's Center, Aurora, IL
A single father battles grief, questions his identity, and yearns for spiritual connection in Harmon’s poignant and introspective novel. Twenty-six-year-old Tyler Manion’s world is unraveling. Six months after his wife’s sudden death, he faces his final day at General Motors, a casualty of Detroit’s economic decline. Alone with his nearly two-year-old son Robbie, Tyler struggles to maintain a façade of control while feeling untethered, plagued by what he calls “spiritual attention deficit disorder.” An unlikely cast—a basketball prodigy, a gruff WWII veteran, a hippie nun, and a sharp graduate student—gradually helps him reclaim his identity and seek a deeper spiritual connection.
Harmon’s prose is fluid and emotionally resonant, weaving lyrical descriptions of Tyler’s daily life with moments of profound introspection. Through Tyler’s journey, Harmon captures the juxtaposition of mundane parenting challenges with the deeper ache of loss. Memories of Christie, Tyler’s late wife, linger in poignant detail, shaping his choices and binding him to the past, even as he seeks a way forward. Harmon deftly balances the deeply personal with broader themes, anchoring Tyler’s struggles in a vividly rendered 1990s Michigan—a world alive with cultural nuances, economic upheaval, and societal shifts. The supporting characters bring complexity and dynamism to the narrative. Robbie, with his innocence and unyielding energy, both grounds and challenges his father. Nicki provides a fresh perspective, her youthful vitality offering Tyler glimpses of life beyond his grief. Cuhlman’s bluntness and practicality force Tyler to confront hard truths, prompting him to reflect on his beliefs and values, while Sister Harriet’s warmth and understanding help steer him toward healing and self-discovery. Even minor characters, from Tyler’s former colleagues to the mothers at Robbie’s daycare, add to the narrative’s emotional weight.
The pacing of the story is deliberate, often reflecting the ebb and flow of the characters' internal conflicts and external circumstances. Tense, introspective moments are skillfully balanced with lighter, humorous exchanges, keeping readers engaged while offering relief from the weightier themes. Harmon skillfully integrates societal themes into the story, linking Tyler’s personal struggles with the broader economic decline of Detroit.
Tyler's layoff from General Motors reflects Detroit's declining industrial strength, connecting his personal struggles to the broader challenges facing the community. This parallel underscores how economic change shapes individual identity and relationships, revealing the human cost of a shifting landscape. Equally nuanced is Harmon’s exploration of masculinity, as Tyler navigates the expectations of being a provider and protector while confronting his own vulnerabilities. Faith emerges as another powerful thread, portrayed with honesty and complexity.
Rather than offering easy resolutions, Harmon invites readers to wrestle alongside Tyler with questions of belief, purpose, and connection. By linking Tyler’s internal turmoil to the broader societal shifts of the 1990s, Harmon creates a narrative that feels both intimate and expansive. A poignant meditation on life’s impermanence and the timeless solace found in love, faith, and human connection.
Jon F. Harmon’s Scraps of Grace is a heartfelt and deeply introspective novel that follows Tyler, a single father navigating the wreckage of his past while trying to carve out a better future. Set against the backdrop of late 20th-century Detroit, the book explores themes of faith, loss, and redemption through the lens of an ordinary man struggling with extraordinary challenges. Tyler’s world is one of missed opportunities, lingering grief, and a wavering faith that he can’t quite let go of, no matter how much life tempts him to abandon it. Through his relationships—with his young son, an old flame, and a cast of unlikely mentors—Tyler stumbles toward grace in ways that are raw, imperfect, and utterly human.
Harmon’s writing is both fluid and poetic, with moments of unexpected beauty that catch you off guard. There’s an easy rhythm to the prose, occasionally punctuated by sharp, vivid descriptions that pull you into Tyler’s world. It’s a hilarious yet oddly fitting metaphor, the kind of offbeat observation that makes Tyler feel real, like someone you’ve met before. At the same time, the novel has a way of sneaking in deep, introspective moments, like Tyler’s reluctant nighttime prayers, whispered even when he feels unworthy because not praying would feel worse. These contrasts humor and weight, skepticism and faith are what make Scraps of Grace compelling.
Tyler himself is not an easy protagonist to love, but he is an easy one to understand. He’s flawed, distracted, sometimes maddeningly passive, and yet undeniably sympathetic. His relationship with his mother, for instance, is a fascinating study in quiet resentment and unexpected tenderness. At one point, he realizes he’s spent years seeing her as weak, only to question whether he ever really knew her at all. Harmon doesn’t serve up neat resolutions; instead, he lets his characters wrestle with their own blind spots, often without clear answers.
The book also leans heavily into its themes of faith and moral reckoning, sometimes subtly, other times more explicitly. One particularly moving thread follows Nicki, a young girl facing an unplanned pregnancy, as she struggles with the weight of her decision. Her inner monologue filled with raw uncertainty and quiet desperation feels heartbreakingly real. Harmon doesn’t preach; instead, he lets his characters stumble through their own moral mazes, allowing the reader to engage with the story on their own terms. That said, there are moments when the religious undertones become more overt, which might not appeal to all readers. But whether you share the novel’s spiritual perspective or not, its reflections on grace, suffering, and redemption feel universal.
Scraps of Grace is the kind of novel that lingers. It’s not a fast-paced, action-packed story, but rather a quiet, contemplative journey, one that rewards readers who appreciate character-driven narratives. If you enjoy books that dig deep into the complexities of faith, family, and second chances, this one is worth your time. Fans of contemporary fiction with a spiritual undertone will likely find much to appreciate here. Harmon has crafted a story that feels both deeply personal and widely relatable, an honest exploration of how even the most broken among us can still find a way forward, one scrap of grace at a time.
From the opening chapter, Scraps of Grace gripped me with its honest portrayal of a man on the brink. Tyler Manion isn’t just a character he feels like someone you know, someone you’ve seen trying to hold it together in the grocery store or the daycare parking lot. His grief is palpable, his struggle unvarnished. The novel doesn’t try to pretty it up or offer easy answers, and that’s what makes it so powerful.
I found the interplay between Tyler and the various people who cross his path to be especially profound. Each encounter nudges him sometimes gently, sometimes abruptly closer to rediscovering himself. These people don’t preach to him; they live alongside him, and in doing so, show him glimpses of grace in the everyday. The graduate student character, with her quiet intellect and empathy, was a subtle but important influence on Tyler’s arc.
The writing style is incredibly accessible yet brimming with literary quality. The author doesn’t waste a word, but each sentence carries weight. There’s a rhythm to the prose that makes it a joy to read, even when the subject matter is heavy. The touches of humor often through Tyler’s inner dialogue or quirky interactions lighten the mood at just the right times.
What also impressed me was how the author navigates spirituality. This book isn’t just for Christians or religious readers; it’s for anyone who’s ever questioned the bigger picture. Tyler’s spiritual journey doesn’t follow a neat path it’s winding, marked with doubt and awkwardness but it’s authentic. It’s refreshing to read something that portrays faith as a struggle, not a certainty.
If you’re looking for a story that will make you laugh, cry, and think sometimes all at once Scraps of Grace is it. It’s a novel that doesn’t just entertain; it invites reflection. I’m already planning to re-read it and discuss it with friends.
This book was like a long, deep exhale. I’ve been carrying a lot grief, confusion, a loss of direction, and reading Scraps of Grace felt like I had company in that place. Tyler’s spiritual detachment, his numbness, was so familiar to me. But the story doesn’t leave him there.
The cast of characters felt like people I might meet in real life, each one with their own baggage but still willing to walk beside Tyler. I especially loved the grad student, intellectually sharp but emotionally available. Her presence added layers to the story and challenged Tyler in a healthy way.
I finished the book with a renewed sense of hope, not because everything tied up neatly, but because I was reminded that grace doesn’t have to come all at once. Sometimes it arrives in scraps, and that’s more than enough.
This novel doesn’t flinch. It takes grief, loneliness, and faithlessness head-on and somehow still manages to be full of light. Tyler Manion is a mess, but he’s a lovable, believable mess. He’s not trying to be anything other than what he is, which made him the kind of protagonist I couldn’t look away from.
I loved that the story didn’t shy away from the hard parts of parenting. Tyler’s love for his son is clear, but he’s clearly drowning. That kind of raw portrayal of single fatherhood is so important and too rare in fiction. His resilience in simply waking up each day was inspiring.
Each supporting character is a revelation. The author doesn’t rely on caricatures but instead introduces real, complicated people who speak truth in unexpected ways. This is literary fiction with heart, grit, and grace.
Rarely does a novel tackle spiritual disconnection with such honesty. Tyler Manion is not “lost” in the traditional narrative sense, he’s surviving, showing up, providing. But on the inside, he’s hollowed out. And Scraps of Grace explores that quiet despair with remarkable sensitivity.
I was moved by the subtle ways he begins to reconnect, with his son, with the people around him, and with something higher. It’s never dramatic or preachy. It’s small and believable, which makes it all the more powerful. The WWII vet in particular offered some of the novel’s most profound insights in the fewest words.
This is a story about fragments, of life, of memory, of faith. But somehow, it’s the space between those fragments that gives the book its shape. I’ll be revisiting it when I need a reminder that healing is possible, even if it’s incomplete.
Reading Scraps of Grace felt like being invited into someone’s soul. The writing is intimate and vulnerable without being indulgent. Tyler’s pain is described in plain language, which makes it all the more powerful. The way he avoids dealing with his emotions while convincing himself he’s “managing” hit close to home.
The spiritual themes are what truly elevate this book. It’s not about a sudden conversion or a neat spiritual arc. It’s about slow, painful searching, the kind that takes years. The metaphor of spiritual attention deficit disorder was brilliant and surprisingly apt.
By the end, I didn’t just feel like I’d read a good book, I felt like I’d been changed a little. That’s rare, and it’s the reason I’ll be talking about this story for a long time.
What struck me most about Scraps of Grace was how it dignifies the mess of life. Tyler is struggling, not just with grief, but with the erosion of identity. The loss of his job feels like the final straw, and yet he keeps going. It’s that quiet perseverance that moved me.
The people who enter Tyler’s life don’t fix him. They don’t even try to. They listen. They talk. They challenge him. The hippie nun, in particular, was a joy to read. Her perspective on spirituality was weird and wise, and she felt like someone I’d love to have coffee with.
The final scenes felt like an awakening, not a resolution. The author seems less interested in tying bows and more invested in telling the truth about pain and recovery. This book doesn’t just tell a story, it opens a door.
I didn’t expect to be so emotionally invested in this story, but Tyler Manion pulled me in completely. His grief feels like a second skin, something he wears constantly but tries to pretend isn’t there. I admired how the book refused to make his healing look heroic. It’s messy, slow, nonlinear, and all the more believable for it.
The Michigan setting adds a blue-collar realism to the story. The details, the closing of the GM plant, the humid summer, the small-town characters, make everything feel lived-in. I could smell the coffee, feel the sweat, hear the silence.
But what I’ll remember most is the way this book honors everyday courage. Tyler may not slay dragons, but he keeps showing up. That’s its own kind of miracle.
Scraps of Grace is an inspiring spiritual journey driven by relatable characters facing real-life struggles. It captures a turbulent moment in time while exploring timeless questions of faith.
Reading Scraps of Grace was like unearthing an emotional time capsule from 1990, brimming with pain, faith, and unexpected humor. Tyler Manion, the grieving father at the heart of this story, resonated with me in ways I didn’t expect. His internal struggle between maintaining outward strength and navigating a profound spiritual void felt both relatable and heartbreaking. The depiction of his loss and the numbing fog of grief was so raw that I often had to pause to reflect on my own life.
One of the greatest strengths of this book is its unique cast of supporting characters. Each person Tyler encounters feels vividly alive, from the brash WWII vet to the peace-loving nun, and they each act as spiritual guides in their own offbeat way. These characters bring both levity and wisdom, subtly pointing Tyler and readers toward grace in a fractured world. The hippie nun in particular was a surprising favorite of mine, with her unconventional methods of ministry and piercing insight.
The writing is crisp, unpretentious, and laced with a quiet brilliance. Even when the author gets irreverent or humorous, the underlying themes of identity, faith, and redemption never get lost. The balance between the secular and the sacred is managed expertly, which is no small feat in a novel that openly grapples with Christianity without preaching. Tyler’s spiritual attention deficit disorder was a term that made me laugh and wince at the same time it captured something very real about how easily we get distracted from what truly matters.
I also loved how rooted the story is in its time and place. The Michigan setting in the summer of 1990 brought back vivid memories through its cultural references and emotional tone. Yet despite its historical grounding, the book explores timeless struggles how to survive loss, how to parent through grief, and how to find meaning when your world no longer makes sense.
Scraps of Grace is not just a book; it’s a soulful journey that gently urges the reader to consider their own spiritual direction. With discussion questions at the end, it’s also perfect for book clubs looking for a meaningful read. I highly recommend it to anyone seeking an honest, sometimes irreverent, but deeply moving story of loss and faith.