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named one of Nylon’s Books We’re Excited About In 2024

named one of Vogue India’s unhinged women books that will alter your brain chemistry

“The perfect heartbreak novel.”

—Christopher Zeischegg, author of The Magician

“Danielle Chelosky’s debut novel is a stunning portrait of youthful, corporeal lust, perfect for reading in dim corners of bars while waiting for a date who may or may not ruin your life (celebratory) for the next six months.”

—Sophia June for Language Arts

“In prose as intoxicating as infatuation, Chelosky captures an all too familiar girlhood rite of passage: falling under the influence of an older man and abandoning the self to become something else—desired.”

—Shelby Hinte for Write or Die

“It’s painful, it’s provocative, and it’s pretty goddamn perfect.”

—Rachel A. G. Gilman for Black Lipstick

“Standing on the shoulders of confessional giants like Annie Ernaux, Chris Kraus and Anaïs Nin, Danielle delves into painful yearning, yet goes beyond introspection, weaving in references to music and literature. Her book isn’t a purge—it reflects growing up and taking responsibility for your actions.”

—Sheridan Wilbur for Worms Magazine

“One of the most unsettlingly precise and accurate novels about love I have ever read.”

—Garielle Lutz, author of Backwardness

“I love nothing more than a writer who isn’t afraid to have feelings. She shows us herself through her life and longings and the whole thing is heartbreaking and inspiring. Pandemic-era love story confessional chaotic brilliance. This book is so beautiful.”

—Cash Compson, author of People Scare Me

“I think Chelosky captures some of that raw oblation that your late teenage years inspires in you and is at her best being self-indulgent, clinging on to the things in her life that give her meaning, the people and the feelings. There’s an undeniable bravery to her writing.”

—Arcadia Molinas for Worms Magazine

“Her desire … to embody and inflect substance onto experience—often through relating it to music and other texts—provides something more than mere navel-gazing and exploitation of one’s own pain, making it read like a page-turner, as narcotic as much as holistic.”

—Blake Butler, author of Molly