Look, I'm going to complain about something first: this book made me feel things I wasn't prepared to feel on a Tuesday afternoon while waiting for a client call that was already 20 minutes late. I'm a 42-year-old management consultant. I have no business getting emotional about a 16-year-old's email correspondence with a mystery boy. And yet.
Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda is not a business book. Obviously. But Jenny's been on this campaign to get me listening to things that aren't about optimizing quarterly returns, and when she saw this on some "books that became great movies" list, she added it to my queue. I finished it in two sittings. We're not going to talk about how fast that was.
The ROI on Emotional Investment
Bottom line: this book is efficient. Six hours and forty-six minutes, and Becky Albertalli wastes almost none of it. That's rare. Most YA novels—honestly, most novels period—could lose 30% of their runtime and improve. This one earns its length.
The premise is simple: Simon's closeted, he's been emailing another closeted kid at his school (pseudonyms, very cute), and then someone finds out and blackmails him. The blackmailer wants Simon to set him up with a friend. It's messy in the way high school is messy—petty stakes that feel enormous when you're living them.
What surprised me is how the blackmail plot isn't played for maximum drama. Michael Crouch voices the blackmailer as more pathetic than cruel, which is... actually more realistic? I've seen enough corporate politics to know that most people who leverage information aren't masterminds. They're just desperate and awkward. The book gets that.
Michael Crouch Gets the Assignment
Here's where I'll be honest: I can see why some people find the narration whiny. Crouch commits fully to teenage Simon's voice, which means you're getting all the self-deprecation, the overthinking, the emotional spiraling. If that's not your thing, I get it.
But for me? It worked. Crouch navigates Simon's emotional shifts—the anger when he's being manipulated, the vulnerability in his emails to Blue, the forced casualness when he's deflecting—without ever feeling like he's performing. His female voices are solid too, none of that cartoonish falsetto thing that makes me want to throw my AirPods into traffic.
The email sections are particularly good. Simon's confessions to his unknown crush have this earnestness that Crouch delivers without making it saccharine. It's the voice of someone who's figuring himself out in real time, which is exactly what it should be.
What My Parents Would've Thought
My parents ran a dry cleaning business in Koreatown. They didn't talk about feelings. They definitely didn't talk about sexuality. I think about what it would've been like for a Korean-American kid in the 90s to have a book like this—to see a character whose biggest fear is that coming out will change how people see him, and then to watch him realize that the people who matter will love him anyway.
This isn't a business lesson. But it kind of is? The book's central insight is that authenticity has costs, but inauthenticity has bigger ones. Simon spends so much energy managing his image, controlling information, trying to be who he thinks people want him to be. I've watched executives do the same thing. It never ends well.
Albertalli was a clinical psychologist before she was a writer, and you can feel that. The emotional beats are earned. When Simon finally stops performing and just... exists as himself, it lands. I may have been on a client call by that point. I may have been glad my camera was off.
Who's Going to Love This (And Who Won't)
If you're looking for a quick, emotionally satisfying listen that doesn't waste your time, this delivers. It's a coming-of-age story that respects its audience enough to be honest about how hard growing up is—especially when you're hiding part of yourself. That same honesty about identity—though in a completely different context—is what made Case for Christ work for me, even as someone who approaches faith questions like a consultant approaches data.
Skip it if teenage voice narration genuinely grates on you, or you need plot complexity to stay engaged. This is character-driven, not plot-driven. The mystery of Blue's identity is fun, but it's not exactly a thriller.
Perfect for anyone who wants to feel something without committing 15 hours to it. Parents of teenagers. People whose spouses are trying to expand their audiobook horizons. (Hi, Jenny.)
Closing the Books on Simon Spier
I'm giving this 4 stars. It's not going to change how I run my consulting practice, but it reminded me that efficiency isn't everything. Sometimes the point is just to feel something, to remember what it was like to be young and terrified and hopeful all at once.
My parents worked 14-hour days so I could have choices they never had. Simon's parents give him space to figure out who he is. Different kinds of love, both real. This book gets that.
Jenny's already added the sequel to my queue. I'm pretending to be annoyed about it.
