The Bright Years is an amazing debut depicting addiction, grief and generational trauma while still being hopeful that there is a bright side through it all.

This book is intense, honest and real and Sarah Damoff does not shy away from showing a raw perspective into this family’s life, how their choices affect themselves and everyone around them, how people deal with trauma in different ways, how hard it is to heal from that. But you also get to understand these characters, why they made these choices, and how important it is to communicate your pain and seek comfort in people that love you.

The writing and the tone of narration pair extremely well with what the characters are going through in their lives. During darker times the writing is a lot heavier and emotionally harder to read, and during happier, lighter moments, the prose equals those emotions, making it easy to empathize with these characters.

Alongside the writing, the pacing of the story also reflects the different stages of the characters’ lives and how that influences how they think and deal with what’s happening around them.

Family comes in so many different forms and The Bright Years explores that perfectly. Family isn’t just the people of the same blood, it’s the people that are there for you, the friends that support you, the neighbors that care for you and the characters in this book experience all those types of love in their own way.

I cried and laughed, felt anger and relief, understood the characters’ pain and got mad at their decisions. The Bright Years brings out so many emotions that while it’s a relatively shorter read, it’s still so beautifully complex.

This is a book that will stay with me forever and I just can’t recommend it enough.

An exploration of how desire & yearning can bring you to madness, Cursed Bread is a short, diary-like novel that unfolds in dreamlike scenes of mundanity and what can hide underneath (violence, queerness, dirty laundry 😉 literally). It is not at all what the blurb makes it seem like, and it could only hold my attention so long as an artistic exercise. With very little plot and very little distinction between reality and imagination, I ultimately found it lacking in making its point, though interesting in its composition.

The most voicey main character I’ve had the pleasure of inhabiting in a while. It only added to the experience that I read this on an 8 hour flight. Linda is wacky with so much heart, and the restore-my-faith in humanity human relationships grounded the suspend-my-disbelief plane relationships.