Look, I need to talk about those swallowing sounds.
I know that's a weird way to start a review, but when you're sitting in your minivan in the garage—your sacred 45 minutes of silence before you walk into a house where someone definitely smeared peanut butter on the dog—you notice these things. Denise Burse swallows. Audibly. Throughout the entire 14.5 hours. And once you hear it, you can't unhear it.
But here's the thing: I kept listening anyway. Because this book grabbed me by the heart and wouldn't let go.
The Kind of Story That Makes You Miss Your Exit
Annette Goode is thirteen, overweight, painfully shy, and carrying a secret that made me want to reach through my phone and hug her. When the beautiful, confident Rhoda Nelson decides to be her friend, you think you know where this is going. The ugly duckling gets a makeover, gains confidence, happy ending, roll credits.
Nope. Mary Monroe has other plans.
This is civil rights-era Ohio, and Monroe doesn't shy away from the ugly parts. There's abuse here—real, gut-wrenching abuse that made me grip my steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white. The scenes with Annette and her mother's boarder, Mr. Boatwright, had me so angry I almost honked my horn in my own garage. (The neighbors already think I'm weird for sitting out here. That would've sealed it.)
But it's not just trauma for trauma's sake. Monroe builds this whole world—Rhoda's eccentric family with her brooding brother Jock, her "Muh'Dear" who's lovely but fragile, and those colorful white relatives including scary Granny Goose. The family dynamics are messy and complicated and felt so real I could've been eavesdropping on actual people.
Denise Burse: A Complicated Relationship
Okay, back to the narration situation. Burse does this Southern drawl that's absolutely perfect for the setting. Her voice for Annette captures that shy, withdrawn quality without making her sound weak. And when she voices certain characters—particularly the ones you're supposed to hate—she makes them sound exactly as despicable as they should be. I genuinely felt my blood pressure rise during some of those scenes.
But those pauses. She'll be in the middle of a sentence and just... stop. For no apparent reason. It's like listening to someone who keeps forgetting what they were saying. During nap time, when Sophie could wake up any second and I'm racing to absorb as much story as possible, those unnecessary pauses felt like torture.
I bumped it up to 1.5x (yes, faster than my usual 1.25x) and it helped. The pauses became less jarring, and the emotional moments still hit hard. If you decide to listen, play with the speed. Find your sweet spot.
When Your Best Friend Drops a Bomb
The friendship between Annette and Rhoda is the heart of this book, and Monroe does something really smart with it. She lets it develop slowly, authentically, over years. You see these two girls grow up together, depend on each other, keep each other's secrets. That kind of deep, complicated friendship dynamic reminded me of It Starts with Us—different setting, but the same careful attention to how relationships shape us over time.
And then Rhoda confesses something about a childhood crime, and everything shifts.
I won't spoil it, but I will say this: I was folding laundry when that confession happened (Sophie actually napped for once, miracle of miracles), and I just stood there holding Lucas's tiny superhero underwear, completely frozen. The Publishers Weekly comparison to Zora Neale Hurston makes sense—there's that same unflinching look at hard truths wrapped in beautiful storytelling.
Not for the Faint of Heart (Or Bedtime)
This is not a comfort read. I need to be clear about that because usually I'm all about the cozy, predictable happy endings. When I need something lighter between heavy listens, Honeymoon Crashers is my palate cleanser—totally different vibe, but still emotionally engaging. This book deals with sexual abuse, violence, and some language that earned its content warnings. Don't listen while trying to fall asleep. Don't listen while the kids are in the car. This requires your full attention and probably some processing time afterward.
It's also 14.5 hours, which is a commitment. I finished it in about two weeks—actually pretty good for me, considering my listening windows are basically stolen moments between chaos.
Who's This For (And Who Should Run)
Listen if you love character-driven fiction that doesn't pull punches. If you're into African-American literary fiction. If you can handle heavy themes when they're handled with care. Book club members who want something with real meat to discuss? This is it. (If you ever have time for book club again—I feel you.)
Skip if you need something light and easy. If audio quality issues really bother you. If you're looking for a quick listen.
Crying at School Pickup: A Review
The swallowing sounds are annoying. The pauses are frustrating. The story itself will break your heart in places and make you furious in others. But I cried at school pickup—twice—and I'm calling that worth it.
Made me feel things I wasn't prepared to feel while sitting in a parking lot surrounded by minivans. Sometimes that's exactly what a book should do.
