Gravitational Pull by Ty Fox
- shilohskyewriter
- Nov 2
- 4 min read
You might like this book if you enjoy:
-Realistic, relatable fiction
-College dramas
-Complex character psychology
-Lots of gay sex scenes
-Science!!!
Gravitational Pull is Ty Fox’s debut novel, and what a debut it is. Technically, this is my second readthrough of this book. I originally read the self-published version before Fenris Productions made the wise choice of picking it up. Since then, I’ve eagerly awaited an excuse to do a second readthrough, and finally that day has come. Gravitational Pull is even better the second time around. It’s a beautiful, and sometimes painfully relatable story about recovery from trauma, whether it be the trauma of a tumultuous upbringing, or of an abusive relationship. This book’s characters beautifully show how past traumas can play into one another, and how love and support can help to break that cycle.
Gravitational Pull follows a wolf named Skyler who’s studying Chemistry in college while dealing with the many traumas he’s experienced throughout his life. After totaling his car in a storm while running away from one of those traumas, he meets a coyote named Ryan who takes him to the hospital and happily gives him a place to stay while he recovers. Skyler’s story then begins to play out of order, and we start to see what led him to this point in his life, and even where his life will go in the future. What follows is a tale that jumps back and forth, to and fro, to great effect, showing how Skyler’s past, present, and future play into one another and into his developing romance with Ryan.
Some people avoid stories told this way, which is understandable. Oftentimes those stories are structured out of order simply for dramatic effect, or for seemingly no reason at all. But I’d encourage anyone who doesn’t typically enjoy this kind of storytelling to stick around. One of the reasons I enjoyed Gravitational Pull so much is that I find the shuffled storytelling absolutely essential here, and I think in the rest of this review you’ll see why.
I was impressed by how the shuffled sequence of events in the book still has a driving structure. Rather than go in order, the story instead goes more so by cause and effect. For example, soon after showing Skyler’s childhood with his neglectful parents, the story jumps forward to a chapter where Skyler has a venomous phone call with his mother a decade later. The reordering helps to lay out Skyler’s motivation for what he says in that phone call, and this is a pattern repeated throughout the book. I found that it made for a quick and deep understanding of a very complex character, not to mention making him much more relatable.
In fact, “relatable” is a word I use the most when talking about this book, and for good reason. Skyler’s traumas are, sadly, all too common in real life. As the chapters keep coming, he experiences scenes of physical bullying, bigotry, family drama, school injustices, dangerous accidents, and abusive relationships. Readers who have experienced any one of these, which I’m sure describes most readers, will easily find something to relate to from Skyler’s experiences, as well as the wide spectrum of ways he reacts to these traumas. I was blown away by how similar Skyler’s thoughts and feelings were about certain traumas I’ve experienced, such as ones stemming from dysfunctional families.
One of the most powerful traumas Skyler experiences is the abusive relationship he goes through before meeting Ryan. This relationship is depicted in such a nuanced and realistic way. The abuser dishes out as much love as he does pain, sometimes consciously and sometimes unconsciously, sowing seeds of doubt in Skyler’s mind about whether he actually is in a toxic relationship or not. It’s depicted so realistically, in fact, that I believe one of the strongest ways a reader might relate to this book is if they themselves are in an abusive relationship. This book could serve as a great way of helping someone recognize the situation they’re in and prompting them to start taking action to escape. It may be a bit of wishful thinking on my part, but I think even the potential for that to happen is pretty cool.
Every character in this story is also relatable for being so profoundly flawed. Even Ryan, the main love interest fulfilling the gay romance archetype of “guy who’s perfect and solves everything” is not, in fact, perfect and does not, in fact, solve everything. He even creates new conflicts at times and makes regrettable choices that threaten his relationship with Skyler. It was nice to see such flaws present in such a kind and caring character, showing that even the best people in the world who we fall hopelessly in love with can have baggage that starts a few fires.
As I describe all this trauma and relatability and character flaws, it may sound like this book has a miserable tone. Luckily readers need not worry, because the book doesn’t get bogged down in doom and gloom. I found the story often had a melancholic tone, but never one of despair. It helps that the traumas Skyler experiences never went so over the top as to suspend my disbelief. But mainly, by staggering bad moments with good ones, and by using scenes from the future to remind you Skyler makes it out okay, things stay relatively hopeful throughout.
And ultimately, that’s a big part of Gravitational Pull—the joy of overcoming trauma and recovering from the despair it can throw you into. I loved how thoughtfully that recovery was explored, and with such attention to detail. Skyler and Ryan, as well as their struggles, feel real. I’d say they’re some of the most realistic and relatable characters I’ve read about all year. With this kind of skill in character development, I can’t wait to see what Ty Fox does next.
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