Imagine sitting on a sofa where time blurs: an old man and a young woman share a space; then he’s clinging to her, reaching for something lost. This striking scene unfolds in “The Producer,” the opening story of Meg Pokrass’s latest collection, First Law of Holes. After a five-year hiatus, Pokrass has returned with a book that explores love, loss, and survival through the lives of women navigating complex relationships.

Pokrass captures elusive emotions and the tensions of human connection. Her characters—young, old, married, divorced—grapple with unresolved longings and fleeting intimacy. In “It’s Good to Have You Back,” as a young woman reflects on her unfulfilling sex life with her boyfriend Al: “When Al fucks me, I stare at the ceiling and see myself in the water stains.” This stark image reveals a profound emotional detachment.

The collection’s title invites curiosity, reinforced by the cover’s image of a woodpecker. Its meaning emerges when Pokrass writes, “The first law of holes is to stop digging.” This metaphor runs through the book, reflecting on the traps we create and the absences we navigate. Her characters find themselves in unresolved situations, caught between excavation and escape.

Pokrass’s writing is sharp and laced with dark humor. A woman recalls her lover calling her “Monkey”—a name she links to being his “gullible monkey”—while he simultaneously details his wife’s habit of keeping a loaded pistol always within reach, even when in her pajamas. This jarring contrast injects a stark wit into tense situations, deepening the stories’ layers.

First Law of Holes explores generational conflict, fleeting innocence, and the transactional nature of relationships. Women in these stories navigate societal constraints, loveless marriages, and the struggle for autonomy. A mother leashes her daughters for protection. A wife confronts the ghosts of her husband’s troubled past. A woman pieces herself back together. These characters face their circumstances with quiet strength. 

Themes of objectification and societal expectations permeate the collection. In “In This Light,” a nurse is objectified as “a handsome strong girl, has full breasts.” She also illustrates the transactional nature of bodies in “Cavities,” where a young woman exchanges sex for two meals a day. Yet, even amidst such harsh realities, moments of resilience and levity persist. 

Pokrass’s prose is spare yet evocative, using striking economy to distill complex emotions into narratives that linger. Her stories illuminate how we seek connection, fall into patterns, and muster resilience amid longing. We see this in a poignant wish, “I may be able to squeeze into one of his dreams,” and an expression of quiet resolve, “Four miscarriages in the last two years. Each time we adopted a rescue animal.”

For readers drawn to fiction that blends humor, irony, and emotional depth, First Law of Holes offers a sharp, witty, yet surprisingly tender look at what it means to be human. Pokrass invites us to confront the holes in our lives and consider whether to keep digging—or find a way out.