In playwright Nina Shengold's first novel, the dense, remote forests of the Pacific Northwest are foggy with more than just precipitation: Her logging-crew protagonists rugged loner Earley, privileged Berkeley dropout Reed, and troubled femme fatale Zan spend nearly half the book steaming up the metaphorical windows with their improvised couplings. And though Clearcut sounds like a drugstore bodice-ripper in premise, Shengold easily elevates it with her devotion to the souls and not just the commingling body parts of her characters, as well as her pungent language (a freshly cut log kicks up ''a backwash of warm cedar sawdust, as fragrant as cinnamon'').

