Review of "Everything You've Ever Known" by Jess Ames

Score: 89/100 (8.9 out of 10)

What happens when the life you built—the one filled with packed lunches, laughter, soccer games, and a home bustling with noise—suddenly becomes quiet? When the roles that once defined you slip away, leaving you staring at an empty house and wondering, Now what?

Everything You’ve Ever Known by Jess Ames delves into this very moment, exploring the reality of starting over in middle age. With themes of reinvention, friendship, and navigating the loneliness of an empty nest, the novel taps into a deeply relatable experience: the search for purpose when the familiar is gone. But does this introspective journey make for an engaging and satisfying read, or does it drift too much into aimless, meandering reflection?

Set in the contemporary world, this novel follows the protagonist, Paige, as she grapples with the shifting dynamics of her life after her children leave home, her marriage ends, and she is left to redefine herself in her "second act." Ultimately, she has to wrestle with whether or not this is the twilight of her life or a fresh new chapter full of new opportunities and possibilities.

Paige is a relatable, self-deprecating protagonist. At times, she comes across as a pessimistic, Debbie Downer full of doubt, anxiety, and apprehension. However, her struggles with writer’s block, empty nest syndrome, loneliness, and self-doubt make her an accessible and emotionally resonant character. She has a dry sense of humor and often masks her deeper insecurities with sarcasm.

For instance, when her friend Kari inquires about the progress of her latest novel, Paige responds with a smirk, "Oh, it's coming along splendidly—if by 'coming along' you mean gathering dust on my desk." This quip allows her to downplay her struggles with writer's block and avoid delving into her deeper anxieties about her creative stagnation.

After her children have moved out, leaving her with an empty nest, a neighbor sympathetically asks how she's coping with the quiet house. Paige replies, "I'm loving the silence; it's like living in a monastery, minus the chanting." Her sarcastic remark conceals the profound loneliness she feels in her now-empty home.

When discussing her financial situation post-divorce, a friend suggests she might need to budget more carefully. Paige retorts, "Why budget when I can just live off the excitement of checking my bank balance?" This sarcastic comment hides her genuine concerns about financial instability and her uncertainty about managing expenses on her own.

Friends encourage her to start dating again after her divorce. Paige responds, "Sure, because awkward small talk and overpriced coffee are exactly what I'm missing in life." Her sarcasm serves to deflect the conversation and mask her apprehension about re-entering the dating scene.

When someone praises her for handling her life changes so well, Paige quips, "Thanks, I've been practicing my 'holding it together' face in the mirror." This response downplays her internal struggles and projects a facade of composure.

Through these examples, it's evident that Paige's use of sarcasm is a tool to deflect attention from her vulnerabilities, allowing her to maintain a semblance of control while grappling with the uncertainties of her evolving life. Speaking of evolving, throughout the book, she undergoes a slow but meaningful transformation, making this a character-centered/character-focused book rather than a plot-focused one, which may please some readers while frustrating others.

She is often joined by her ubiquitous, lizard-chasing Golden Retriever, Roxy, and her "ride-or-die" BFF (and the book's deuteragonist), Kari.

Oh, yeah, Kari has two troublemaking near-college-aged sons, Matt and Alex, who probably needed to be disciplined more whilst growing up seeing as their immature, childish pranks and antics are destructive and dangerous. They're supposed to be comedic relief, but they come across as frustrating and aggitating (in our opinion).

Paige's children are in here too (kinda...), but don't do much other than tantalize her from a distance with what was and what could have been.

Paige's parents are in here too, and at least they're humorous. Paige's dad is probably the funniest character in the book.

She also has an uncle, Uncle Mike, who is like her mentor figure and arguably the tritagonist of the novel. He is basically this book's equivalent of Obi-Wan or Gandalf.

Oh, yeah, there's also Jenna, the baker, who seems to be here as a foil to Paige, but mostly serves to give the book some tension and drama (which it was sorely lacking and desperately need), since she is the target of the book's only real antagonist, Craig.

There are so many of these side characters who kind of seem jammed and forced in here out of obligation—as if the author had a deal with everyone in her life that they would be included in her book. This is ironic because Caleb, Paige's writing/book publishing mentor, keeps advising her to add more characters, throw in more character dynamics, and add more scenes.

Ironically, throwing in so many characters and adding too many scenes seems to work to this book's detriment, bogging it down and making it seem meandering.

It's almost metatextual in the sense that it seems like the author is living by this writing mentor's advice. Paige, in a lot of ways, seems to be a self-insert character, sharing essentially the same background (being a writer—and, apparently, an editor—for a large educational publishing company). Everything You've Ever Known seems to be the author's first foray into publishing a book of her own, similar to how Paige wrestles with constructing her own first book despite being so experienced as a copywriter and editor.

The thing about this book that bothers us is how meandering it seems and feels. It's like the narrative can never just get to the point. We have so many scenes in which the characters are just cooking things or wondering what's for dinner or dessert. It frequently reads as flat and mundane.

Read this exchange to get an idea of what dialogue and the flow of this book is like:

“I think it’s time for dessert, although, at the moment, the cheesecake I picked out seems woefully inadequate considering the circumstances.”

“Cheesecake sounds perfect. They should be done with the dishes by now, so it’s probably safe to go back in. Ready?"

There are literally parts of this book that read things like: "I took the chicken out of the freezer and put it in the fridge..."

Ok... so, what bearing does that have on the actual plot? How does it move the story forward?
Is this a book about cooking the best chicken dish ever to win Master Chef?

Perhaps the one passage that exemplifies this whole book is:

"In that bathroom mirror, I was Paige, but changing. I had taken the next right step and found myself there. Where would the next right step take me? I was ready to find out.
But first, grilled cheese."

While this might get a small chuckle from the reader with the clash between seriousness and something as inconsequential as grilled cheese, it also exemplifies how so much of this book drags. It always seems like the narrative and the characters can't move forward and can't advance to the next thing. It's like wearing boots weighed down by cement blocks or sandbags. It's like the author was perpetually as writer's blocked as the character, and she probably was. Reading this book is sometimes like watching someone procrastinate.

There's another scene in which Paige spends a Saturday floating in the pool and FaceTiming her kids. It seems to lack narrative drive. Yes, it could be argued as "character building" because it points out how lonely Paige feels, but we already have over a dozen other scenes, interactions, and outright omissions that indicate that. We don't need to hear that water is wet for the twentieth time. The dialogue about Roxy and winter break in this scene seem like filler, as it doesn’t deepen relationships or advance the plot.


Speaking of the plot... what's the plot? What's the conflict? Where are we going?

The plot can't just be "will she move on, or won't she?" Ok, it could be, but.. isn't that a bit boring?

Yes, you could say the plot is a woman dealing with the absence of those she loved and getting used to it, but... where is she going? That’s where the story feels somewhat stagnant at times. Paige is trying to build a new life, but the stakes aren’t always clear beyond general personal growth. She wants to write a book, she joins a book club, befriends local women, and starts planning a writer’s retreat, but much of the conflict is subtle and introspective rather than driven by strong external forces.

Furthermore, this book really seems to lack tension.

You could almost make the argument that the closest thing to a tense conflict in the book is actually Jenna's abusive relationship with Craig, but Jenna is a somewhat minor side-character and that whole plot-thread really gets relegated to the back-end of this book. In other words, we had to wait a long time to get to that. By then, we were already pretty bored.

Anyway, this book does have some award-worthy aspects. For example, Roxy could be a nominee for Cutest Character. Kari could be a nominee for Best Supporting Character, being very similar to Cy from "Untold Prophecies" by Rhiannon Hailey. Similar to Cy, Kari is the tough-loving friend who is always there to give the protagonist a much needed kick in the butt.

Paige & Kari could also be considerations for Best Dynamic Duo. Their friendship is actually one of—if not the most—special thing about this book. The two do everything together.

It often seemed like Kari's absence earlier on was more detrimental to Paige than that of her ex-husband or kids! That's how tight these two are.

And, to be frank, while the plot is kinda bland or seemingly non-existent at times, the writing is actually quite good. One of our favorite parts of the whole book is a sort of introspective list poem that Paige forms with her thoughts. It begins with:

"Do I major in business or English?
Do I go on a date with this guy… or that one?
Do I marry him?
Do I end my marriage when I’ve tired of someone else telling me
who I am and what I’m capable of?
Do I take a chance and apply for a job that I’m wholly under-
qualified for but is exactly what I’d dreamt of?
Do I dress up or down for my first day?
Do I move into the city with Kari?
Do I accept a date from the cute new guy in accounting?
Do I move in with Mark?
Do I marry him?
Do we start our family now?
Do I work from home or bring Jason to daycare?
Do we have another baby?
Do I put our strong-willed Anna in time out… or myself?
Do I donate my eggs so Kari can experience the sleepless nights
and swells of joy that accompany motherhood?"

This passage listing Paige's thoughts, concerns, and considerations then becomes progressively more mundane and miniscule, which is ironically fitting in this passage.

There are also effective uses of alliteration throughout the book like "paper makes a bad partner..."

Check it out on Amazon!