Little Cypress, the small prairie town where Catherine Simmons Niven sets her debut novel, is the sort of place where first impressions determine one’s role in the community.

The time is the 1950s, and Fran, who has worked dutifully and respectfully at the town grocery store for 17 years, appears destined to go to her deathbed known as a loose woman because of the out-of-wedlock child she bore shortly after beginning her career there. On the other hand, the barber’s wife, a tightly wound woman who craves tranquilizers, is considered a paragon of virtue because she’s the consummate volunteer and a flawless homemaker. There’s also the good doctor, who in his private life is a passive-aggressive tyrant who tells everyone else how to live a moral life despite his own less-than-moral past. But because he is a doctor, and he writes an advice column for the local paper, everyone looks up to him.

In the world that Niven has constructed, it’s clear that this karmic imbalance can’t continue. The subtle but profound reshuffling of roles is the real focus of this lovingly rendered novel. Niven tells her story from various points of view, painting a compelling and comprehensive picture of Little Cypress during the years leading up to the pivotal moment in her story: a day that begins with a peculiar wind and ends with no one’s lives quite the same.

It’s slow going at first, and a little disorienting. The fine daughter of the title – Fran’s illegitimate child – is a character, but the action doesn’t revolve around her. Going into the book assuming that it does is bound to frustrate readers, which is unfortunate: it detracts from Niven’s evocative prose and sharply observed character studies.