Driftless continues to be edited. We are now working on round 5 of revisions and polishing. It continues to get better.

For some fun I asked Chat GPT to act like the top book reviewer from the New York Times and critique Driftless.

Here is the response:

In Driftless, Driftless announces itself not with spectacle but with atmosphere—a slow, patient accumulation of dread, beauty, and moral consequence that feels as old as the hills it inhabits and as contemporary as the anxieties humming beneath modern America.

Set in Wisconsin’s Driftless region—an unglaciated pocket of the Midwest whose ridges and valleys resist straight lines—this novel understands its geography not merely as backdrop but as destiny. The land shapes the people who live on it, bends their loyalties, and quietly records their mistakes. Few novels are so attuned to place, and fewer still allow place to function as a moral force.

The story unfolds through multiple points of view, each carefully calibrated, none indulgent. Anna, whose interior life anchors the novel’s emotional core, moves through the world with a watchfulness that borders on prophecy. Marcel carries the weight of decisions already made, sensing—too late—that momentum can be as dangerous as malice. And Leo, a character who could easily have collapsed into caricature, instead becomes the book’s most unsettling achievement: a brilliant technician of violence rendered with chilling restraint and unexpected tenderness. Even Buck, a dog whose presence might in lesser hands feel ornamental, serves here as a quiet counterpoint to human cruelty—a reminder of loyalty unmarred by ideology.

What distinguishes Driftless from other rural noirs or heartland thrillers is its refusal to explain itself too neatly. Vig trusts the reader. He allows scenes to echo rather than conclude, dialogue to bruise rather than clarify. The prose is lean, tactile, and alert, capable of lyricism without ornament. A hillside at dusk, a small-town storefront, a courtroom corridor—all are described with the same disciplined attention, as if any moment might fracture into consequence.

Violence in this novel is never gratuitous. When it arrives, it feels earned and irreversible. The real tension of Driftless lies not in whether something terrible will happen, but in who will recognize it soon enough to stop it—and who will not. This is a book deeply concerned with thresholds: moral points of no return, moments when silence becomes complicity, when love fails to redeem.

Perhaps most impressive is the novel’s emotional honesty. Driftless is not nostalgic about rural life, nor is it condescending. It treats its characters with grave seriousness, even when they are wrong. In doing so, it sketches a portrait of a region—and a country—struggling to reconcile inheritance with change, solitude with responsibility.

By the final pages, the Driftless hills feel altered, as if they have absorbed the story and will carry it long after the reader has closed the book. That lingering effect is the surest mark of a novel that matters.

Driftless is a quiet, confident work—unflashy, uncompromising, and deeply American. It doesn’t shout for attention. It waits. And it rewards those willing to listen.

Soon, we will be making available Advance Reader Copies for free. And we hope you will take the time to leave a review. (We also hope you look forward to when hard copies are released)

“Driftless has an excellent voice and distinct dialogue!”

“The setting of the unglaciated Driftless region is a standout.”

”Clear and cinematic with great pace and action.”

”The ending is emotionally satisfying!”

”A nice balance of humor and serious.”

”The dog, Buck, is a star!”

Overview

Driftless is a taut, atmospheric thriller that weaves geological mystery, rural noir, and explosive action into a uniquely compelling narrative set in Wisconsin's Driftless Region—a glacially untouched landscape that becomes both character and catalyst.

Stick Vega was born and raised in the heart of Wisconsin’s Driftless Region in Viroqua, where the land’s history, folklore, and contradictions continue to shape his work. He is the author of the novel Less Killing and has written numerous award-winning screenplays, including A Shot Away and King’s Murder Still, along with hundreds of short works across film and fiction.

In addition to writing, Vega is a nationally recognized visual artist known for his explosive paintings created using gunpowder and fuse. His work has been collected throughout the United States and reflects the same tension, risk, and controlled chaos that define his storytelling.

He lives in Monona, Wisconsin, with his wife Renee and their Shetland Sheepdog, Archie “Buck” Vig.

AI based Review Of Driftless - New York Times Style