Christina

Enjoyable - not the most memorable book but a great standalone reading experience.

There's a rare but delightful category of great books - something like ‘Books I wouldn't necessarily want to read based on the premise, but can't put down once I start' - and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow falls squarely into it. I was inspired to read this book about 1% based on its description, 99% based on rave reviews from people I trust; I don't have much to add to their effusive commentary other than to say the hype is JUSTIFIED. I was utterly invested in the three characters, I was engrossed by the plot, and I even managed to grow curious about video games - something I genuinely never thought I'd say. I found this book fascinating, heartrending, and heartwarming, and I'll be purchasing a hard copy when it's published - this is a book that warrants at least one reread, and I can't wait to lend it out.

Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf for my ARC.

I really loved this book. Others have covered the plot points and the story's expected - but still delightful! - overlap with Strout's other books, so I'll stick to how she made me feel: unexpectedly, utterly soothed.

‘Lucy by the Sea' is hot tea with honey in your favorite mug, in book form. It made me not only want to call my mom, but connect with strangers. Strout's writing always reminds me of the John Donne poem - “any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind” - because it's just bursting with humanity. This is no exception, and probably my favorite thing she's written so far.

WHAAAAAAT. WHAT WHAT WHAT. This book had me on the edge of my seat.

Haley, our fifteen-year-old protagonist, is used to not so much mediating between her divorced parents as choosing between them; it seems she can never make one happy without hurting the other, so the best she can do is toggle between them. It's not easy, but she's mostly got it under control - that is, until her dad kidnaps her and her younger brother. He brings them to a hideaway house with his fellow preppers and survivalists, where he believes they'll be safe from the upcoming pandemic. From there, it's fair to say things ... escalate.

Throughout the book, Haley veers from extreme to extreme in considering who to believe, whose version of reality to embrace: her father's (the pandemic-to-end-all-pandemics is upon us!) or her mother's (the world is just fine, thank you very much!). While this sounds dark, the book is at times quite funny - yes, there's trust issues and impending doom aplenty, but also crushes and hilariously consistent interactions with her parents, despite the chaotic circumstances.

And, of course, every time she thinks she's finally got things figured out - the rug gets pulled out from beneath her (and the reader!) again and again.

Plot-wise, I thought this story was propulsive and compelling. It probably could have been shorter - some of the back-and-forth, I'm-with-dad-no-I'm-with-mom started to feel stale after a while - and the writing was clunky in some places (Haley's voice sometimes felt less authentically and more stereotypically teenaged). But I'm overlooking that because I could. not. put. it. down. 4.5 stars, rounded up to 5.

Thanks to Harper Perennial and NetGalley for my ARC.

Hmmm, I'm struggling with this rating! I would say I enjoyed this book, but not for the reasons one might expect, and I found the first half to be much more compelling than the second.

What worked well for me:
- The descriptions of the tech scene were uncomfortably, uncannily lucid - though I didn't know this when I read it, I'm not at all surprised that the author was the first employee at Instagram!
- The vivid sense of place; San Francisco (and Oakland, and the South Bay, and, hell, even the shuttle!) truly were supporting characters.
- The dynamics between Ethan, our somewhat hapless protagonist, and the much stronger and more opinionated characters around him, like Mona and “the Founder”.
- Ethan's obvious discomfort and struggle to find his footing throughout his time at DateDate and in his early days at “The Corporation”; I thought his thoughtful, tentative interiority - especially contrasted against the brash confidence of his environments - was extremely well-done.

What didn't work so well:
- Just one, but it's a big one: I didn't find the central conflict - will Ethan be able to get back to the “mystery world” and achieve [spoiler]? - particularly clear or compelling. I understand it's sci-fi, but I read a lot of sci-fi, and the logic behind the glitch fell flat for me. I think I would have been willing to overlook this if the events the glitch set in motion were more interesting, but they almost felt like a distraction - I cared more about Ethan's deteriorating relationship with Noma, and his general identity issues, than this plotline. (And I understand that they're related, but ... that felt a little forced.) Overall, the second half of the book - in which this plotline takes precedence - just didn't feel real or exciting to me, even though in theory it should have.

Thanks to Henry Holt & Co and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.