The Maine of Not When I’m Gone is about mother nature, the sea, the woods, the tides, the seasons, sunrise and sunset. It is also about human nature, about locals on an island called Pulpit, locals from down street and wealthy summer people, the up-islanders, and about how these socially distinct populations disrupt the island calm when they mix.
Locale matters, so do characters, but central to Not When I’m Gone are events that happen on the Fourth of July weekend. Locals are drinking, partying, waiting for fireworks. The Coast Guard is like them, cruising the bay, but not patrolling much, most of the sailors below deck, with girlfriends, celebrating the holiday. It is the perfect moment for a multi-million drug drop to take place. A boat from Panama is hardly noticed when it slips into the bay.
Not When I’m Gone is told from alternating points of view: Famel, Sarah, Rick, Emily. The women try to help the men they love, the men try to help themselves. If all islands are included, with a longer and more difficult to patrol shoreline than the rest of the 49 other states combined, during Prohibition, the state of Maine was the focal point for rum running. Now drug runners have stepped in. The stakes are higher. And the fall from grace more dramatic.