Yesteryear

“Yesteryear” left me in a strange place as a reader where I was not quite captivated, not quite disconnected, but hovering in that uneasy middle where a book keeps nudging at you even when you’re not sure you like it.

The novel leans hard into the imagery of small town quiet: barns, fields, the weight of tradition but it doesn’t treat any of it as comforting. For me, that was the most interesting part. The landscape feels heavy, almost haunted by the expectations and memories people carry. It made me think about how often we romanticize the past without acknowledging the cracks underneath it.

At the same time, the emotional rhythm of the book felt uneven. There were moments where I thought, okay, this is saying something real, and then others where the narrative pulled back just when it seemed ready to dig deeper. That inconsistency is probably why I’m so iffy about it. I couldn’t tell if the book wanted to challenge nostalgia or simply gesture at it without fully committing.

But even with my hesitation, Yesteryear did make me reflect: on the stories we inherit, the versions of the past we cling to, and the way nostalgia can blur the harder truths. It’s not a book I loved, and it’s not one I disliked. It’s one that made me sit with questions I didn’t expect, and maybe that’s its real impact.

Get your copy here: https://amzn.to/4y3r2tW

-Amy