Moving to another town is a time-honored way to give oneself a fresh start. Wipe the slate clean. Get rid of the old patterns. Change the scenery. Be reborn.

Sometimes, though, the thing you’re fleeing follows you, no matter how far you run or how hard you hope to be free of it. If the thing you’re hoping to fix is a marriage, it can become an albatross dragging you under, rather than letting you fly.

A new job tempts Krystle Ratticus to leave Chicago and try Milwaukee. Her new marriage is already floundering but she’s bent on making it work. This is such a familiar impulse. You don’t wanna keep failing like all the times before, so you double down. Put all your chips down on the one “lucky” number even though you know deep in your bones that number’s cursed.

Felix barely lifts a finger. He feels Krystle should pay the bills while he pursues his music pipedreams. He’s a user and she lets herself be used, believing her love and care will pull him out of the mire he wallows in. But no one can fix anyone else no matter how much they want to or how hard they try. Insert whatever truism you like best here because they’re all true. We all run our own race. Best that can be hoped for is to run alongside someone else for a time, maybe share a few gulps of water now and again. Let them get a breather. Share a laugh.

Krystle tries a bunch of jobs to get by but each eats her up a different way. She’s in a strange town with no support system, no one to turn to when things go sideways, tied to man who expects her to pull him along. It’s a goddamn disaster. Yet she keeps trying to make it work. They give up on Milwaukee and go back to Chicago, then the marriage goes tits up.

What I’ve always loved about Krystle’s writing is the plainspoken humor of the way she describes her jobs and relationships. The first zine I read of hers was The Greasy Spoon’s Weirdo Du Jour. It documents her time at a restaurant I knew very well. I liked the zine so much I tried to get my then-publisher to give her a book deal. Everything I’ve read of hers since confirms she should be publishing books. Not that, at this point, a book is any more legit or real than a zine. The technology is such now that anyone can put out a book-shaped thing. There’s no bigger percentage of people with anything to say than there ever was, going back to the advent of the printing press.

This is one writer who deserves a wider audience.

This new thing she’s made is tough and funny and kind of heartbreaking. Get yours here.

I wrote about Amalia Ulman’s movies, which I love.