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Oye
“Yes, hi, Mari. It’s me. I’m over my tantrum now and calling you back . . . But first—you have to promise that you won’t tell Mom or Abue any of this. Okay? They’ll set the house on fire if they find out . . .”
Structured as a series of one-sided phone calls from our spunky, sarcastic narrator, Luciana, to her older sister, Mari, this wildly inventive debut “jump-starts your heart in the same way it piques your ear” (Xochitl Gonzalez). As the baby of her large Colombian American family, Luciana is usually relegated to the sidelines. But now she finds herself as the only voice of reason in the face of an unexpected crisis: A hurricane is heading straight for Miami, and her eccentric grandmother, Abue, is refusing to evacuate. Abue is so one-of-a-kind she’s basically in her own universe, and while she often drives Luciana nuts, they’re the only ones who truly understand each other. So when Abue, normally glamorous and full of life, receives a shocking medical diagnosis during the storm, Luciana’s world is upended.
When Abue moves into Luciana’s bedroom, their complicated bond intensifies. Luciana would rather be skating or sneaking out to meet girls, but Abue’s wild demands and unpredictable antics are a welcome distraction for Luciana from her misguided mother, absent sister, and uncertain future. Forced to step into the role of caretaker, translator, and keeper of the devastating family secrets that Abue begins to share, Luciana suddenly finds herself center stage, facing down adulthood—and rising to the occasion.
As Luciana chronicles the events of her disrupted senior year of high school over the phone to Mari, Oye unfolds like the most fascinating and entertaining conversation you’ve ever eavesdropped on: a rollicking, heartfelt, and utterly unique novel that celebrates the beauty revealed and resilience required when rewriting your own story.
Structured as a series of one-sided phone calls from our spunky, sarcastic narrator, Luciana, to her older sister, Mari, this wildly inventive debut “jump-starts your heart in the same way it piques your ear” (Xochitl Gonzalez). As the baby of her large Colombian American family, Luciana is usually relegated to the sidelines. But now she finds herself as the only voice of reason in the face of an unexpected crisis: A hurricane is heading straight for Miami, and her eccentric grandmother, Abue, is refusing to evacuate. Abue is so one-of-a-kind she’s basically in her own universe, and while she often drives Luciana nuts, they’re the only ones who truly understand each other. So when Abue, normally glamorous and full of life, receives a shocking medical diagnosis during the storm, Luciana’s world is upended.
When Abue moves into Luciana’s bedroom, their complicated bond intensifies. Luciana would rather be skating or sneaking out to meet girls, but Abue’s wild demands and unpredictable antics are a welcome distraction for Luciana from her misguided mother, absent sister, and uncertain future. Forced to step into the role of caretaker, translator, and keeper of the devastating family secrets that Abue begins to share, Luciana suddenly finds herself center stage, facing down adulthood—and rising to the occasion.
As Luciana chronicles the events of her disrupted senior year of high school over the phone to Mari, Oye unfolds like the most fascinating and entertaining conversation you’ve ever eavesdropped on: a rollicking, heartfelt, and utterly unique novel that celebrates the beauty revealed and resilience required when rewriting your own story.
336 pages, Hardcover
First published May 14, 2024
346 people are currently reading
30408 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 878 reviews
October 14, 2024
oye, i can't wait to read this!
that one was bad, sorry.
anyway. this is such a fun idea for a book, and i love quirky strong voices, and i love books about sisters.
unfortunately it's just hard to tell a story about complex family relationships through one sided phone calls. or any story, really. i had no idea what was going on at any given time, and i made it through all 336 pages without understanding what the italics signified. (was it someone else talking? luciana quoting conversations? luciana's sidebar thoughts? all three? i was so confused and for what!)
there were some touching grandmother-granddaughter moments in this, but the sister relationship at the center (and all the others really) were sadly one note.
which doesn't leave for much of a plot in a family drama.
bottom line: the epic highs and lows of books i expected to like and kind of did.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
that one was bad, sorry.
anyway. this is such a fun idea for a book, and i love quirky strong voices, and i love books about sisters.
unfortunately it's just hard to tell a story about complex family relationships through one sided phone calls. or any story, really. i had no idea what was going on at any given time, and i made it through all 336 pages without understanding what the italics signified. (was it someone else talking? luciana quoting conversations? luciana's sidebar thoughts? all three? i was so confused and for what!)
there were some touching grandmother-granddaughter moments in this, but the sister relationship at the center (and all the others really) were sadly one note.
which doesn't leave for much of a plot in a family drama.
bottom line: the epic highs and lows of books i expected to like and kind of did.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
September 20, 2024
4.25⭐
Oye by Melissa Mogollon is an incredibly moving and immensely enjoyable coming-of-age story told through the voice of a Florida Colombian-American teenager as she navigates hurricanes, dysfunctional family dynamics the imminent loss of a loved one and much more over her senior year in high school.
Luciana has a lot on her plate. As if her senior year in high school and concerns over her own plans for the future isn’t stressful enough, her mother’s reaction to her coming out deters her from being open about her sexuality and when her seventy-five-year-old Abue Emilia is diagnosed with a terminal illness, she struggles to hold her family together. Initially a reluctant confidante to her Abue, who knows exactly which buttons to push to get her own way, Luciana gets know significant facts from her family history gaining a better understanding of the women in her family and the generational trauma that has been passed down to the present day and how that impacts her as not only a member of the family but as individual on the cusp of adulthood.
The narrative, told through a series of mostly one-sided phone conversations, follows Luciana as she shares her frustrations, aspirations and revelations with her sister Mari, who is away at college and whom she misses dearly. Luciana is an endearing protagonist, and I was invested in her journey. The author captures her angst, insecurities and confusion and inner conflict perfectly. Abue is an interesting ( to put it mildly!) character and I loved how the author depicts her as a strong-willed woman who chooses to live life on her own terms. The author deftly incorporates Abue’s family history into the storyline, depicting how secrets and suppressed trauma can affect family members across generations and how openness, communication and sharing one's stories can help heal emotional wounds and fractured relationships.
The format took a while to get accustomed to, but once I did, I flew through this novel. I did feel, given the format, that the novel could have been shorter, but this did not impact my overall reading experience. With not a boring moment, at times laugh-out-loud funny yet insightful and deeply thought-provoking, this is an exceptionally well-written novel and a promising debut. I look forward to reading more from the author in the future.
Many thanks to Random House Publishing Group - Random House for the digital review copy via NetGalley. All opinions expressed in this review are my own. This novel was published on May 14, 2024.
Connect with me! ✏ Instagram ✏ My Blog ✏ The StoryGraph
Oye by Melissa Mogollon is an incredibly moving and immensely enjoyable coming-of-age story told through the voice of a Florida Colombian-American teenager as she navigates hurricanes, dysfunctional family dynamics the imminent loss of a loved one and much more over her senior year in high school.
Luciana has a lot on her plate. As if her senior year in high school and concerns over her own plans for the future isn’t stressful enough, her mother’s reaction to her coming out deters her from being open about her sexuality and when her seventy-five-year-old Abue Emilia is diagnosed with a terminal illness, she struggles to hold her family together. Initially a reluctant confidante to her Abue, who knows exactly which buttons to push to get her own way, Luciana gets know significant facts from her family history gaining a better understanding of the women in her family and the generational trauma that has been passed down to the present day and how that impacts her as not only a member of the family but as individual on the cusp of adulthood.
The narrative, told through a series of mostly one-sided phone conversations, follows Luciana as she shares her frustrations, aspirations and revelations with her sister Mari, who is away at college and whom she misses dearly. Luciana is an endearing protagonist, and I was invested in her journey. The author captures her angst, insecurities and confusion and inner conflict perfectly. Abue is an interesting ( to put it mildly!) character and I loved how the author depicts her as a strong-willed woman who chooses to live life on her own terms. The author deftly incorporates Abue’s family history into the storyline, depicting how secrets and suppressed trauma can affect family members across generations and how openness, communication and sharing one's stories can help heal emotional wounds and fractured relationships.
The format took a while to get accustomed to, but once I did, I flew through this novel. I did feel, given the format, that the novel could have been shorter, but this did not impact my overall reading experience. With not a boring moment, at times laugh-out-loud funny yet insightful and deeply thought-provoking, this is an exceptionally well-written novel and a promising debut. I look forward to reading more from the author in the future.
Many thanks to Random House Publishing Group - Random House for the digital review copy via NetGalley. All opinions expressed in this review are my own. This novel was published on May 14, 2024.
Connect with me! ✏ Instagram ✏ My Blog ✏ The StoryGraph
September 21, 2023
Oye is a hilarious yet touching coming-of-age story, told through telephone conversations between Luciana and her older sister Mari.
I'm not going to lie, the format took some getting used to. The conversation is one-sided so the entire book is basically a monologue by Luciana, with some “real-life” conversations with others thrown in here and there. The conversations and phone calls are mashed together into the same chapters with no breaks, and it took me a bit to figure out that the italicized text is the outside-of-the-phone-call conversations with other people. And you just have to kind of figure out who the conversation is with based on the context of the phone call. Confused yet? Even at the end of the book, I was constantly having to stop and think about who might be talking.
But, somewhat confusing format aside, I really enjoyed this book. It's super funny and heartwarming and heartbreaking all at the same time. In lots of ways, it reminded me of an adult Judy Blume novel.
Abue (Luciana's grandmother) is the best character in the entire novel. She's a spitfire with an incredible ability to hold a grudge, but over the course of Luciana and Mari's conversations, the reader begins to understand why Abue is the way she is. Really, this book is just as much Abue's story as it is Luciana's, and there are parts of Abue's life that were rather tragic. As she learns more and more about her grandmother's past, however, Luciana begins to understand that she needs to live her life to the fullest … whether or not her mother and big sister approve.
If you like coming-of-age novels with a whole lot of funny, definitely give this book a read.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Hogarth Press for providing me with an advance copy of this book to review.
I'm not going to lie, the format took some getting used to. The conversation is one-sided so the entire book is basically a monologue by Luciana, with some “real-life” conversations with others thrown in here and there. The conversations and phone calls are mashed together into the same chapters with no breaks, and it took me a bit to figure out that the italicized text is the outside-of-the-phone-call conversations with other people. And you just have to kind of figure out who the conversation is with based on the context of the phone call. Confused yet? Even at the end of the book, I was constantly having to stop and think about who might be talking.
But, somewhat confusing format aside, I really enjoyed this book. It's super funny and heartwarming and heartbreaking all at the same time. In lots of ways, it reminded me of an adult Judy Blume novel.
Abue (Luciana's grandmother) is the best character in the entire novel. She's a spitfire with an incredible ability to hold a grudge, but over the course of Luciana and Mari's conversations, the reader begins to understand why Abue is the way she is. Really, this book is just as much Abue's story as it is Luciana's, and there are parts of Abue's life that were rather tragic. As she learns more and more about her grandmother's past, however, Luciana begins to understand that she needs to live her life to the fullest … whether or not her mother and big sister approve.
If you like coming-of-age novels with a whole lot of funny, definitely give this book a read.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Hogarth Press for providing me with an advance copy of this book to review.
November 10, 2023
I received an ARC from Netgalley. My first, but I am going to pretend like I've been here before.
I got about ten pages into this before realizing that I needed to start again. What a risky choice in voice and presentation! Once you get into the flow of the book, it really takes off in a downright charming and loveable way. These characters will roam around in my brain until I die. What a cast! What a story! If I saw Abue on the street I'd probably faint.
Easily a favorite read of 2023.
I got about ten pages into this before realizing that I needed to start again. What a risky choice in voice and presentation! Once you get into the flow of the book, it really takes off in a downright charming and loveable way. These characters will roam around in my brain until I die. What a cast! What a story! If I saw Abue on the street I'd probably faint.
Easily a favorite read of 2023.
May 6, 2024
ARC gifted by the publisher and ALC by @prhaudio
Presented in the unique format of a one-sided phone call from Luciana to her older sister, Mari, OYE is a captivating exploration of how family defines, binds, and frees us. Initially, I was unsure about this structure, but I found myself enchanted by its charm and intimacy as I delved deeper.
OYE explores the complexities of sibling/mother-daughter/grandmother-granddaughter relationships. Through Luciana's recounting, I was immersed in a world where laughter and tears coexist, where hidden truths lurk beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed.
Mogollon masterfully balances light-hearted humor with poignant insights, creating a narrative that is as entertaining as thought-provoking. The audiobook narrated by Elena Rey further enhances this experience. Rey's dynamic performance brings Luciana's voice to life, immersing me in her love, laughter, and longing world. OYE is a delightful read that will leave you laughing, crying, and everything in between.
OYE reminds me of THE FORTUNES OF JADED WOMEN (Carolyn Huynh) with less focus on romance and fewer characters.
Yall need to read this especially the audiobook ❤️🔥
Presented in the unique format of a one-sided phone call from Luciana to her older sister, Mari, OYE is a captivating exploration of how family defines, binds, and frees us. Initially, I was unsure about this structure, but I found myself enchanted by its charm and intimacy as I delved deeper.
OYE explores the complexities of sibling/mother-daughter/grandmother-granddaughter relationships. Through Luciana's recounting, I was immersed in a world where laughter and tears coexist, where hidden truths lurk beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed.
Mogollon masterfully balances light-hearted humor with poignant insights, creating a narrative that is as entertaining as thought-provoking. The audiobook narrated by Elena Rey further enhances this experience. Rey's dynamic performance brings Luciana's voice to life, immersing me in her love, laughter, and longing world. OYE is a delightful read that will leave you laughing, crying, and everything in between.
OYE reminds me of THE FORTUNES OF JADED WOMEN (Carolyn Huynh) with less focus on romance and fewer characters.
Yall need to read this especially the audiobook ❤️🔥
January 26, 2024
The premise for this upcoming release is unique. Luciana is on the phone with her sister Mari, and all we get is Luciana’s side. Loaded with lots of family drama which centers around the matriarch of the family…Abue-grandma. Now this book has a beautiful cover and it’s what made me gravitate towards it. I wanted to love this book but it just wasn’t for me and that’s ok. If you read it and love it I would love to talk.
Thank you to
Melissa Mogollon, Random House Publishing, and NetGalley for a copy in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you to
Melissa Mogollon, Random House Publishing, and NetGalley for a copy in exchange for an honest review.
November 5, 2024
1 star. I hate to rag on a Latinx author with an LGBTQ+ MC, because together, that would make a really great book for me. However, I had many problems with this book, the main one being its setup. To quote the blurb, "As Luciana [the main character] chronicles the events of her upended senior year over the phone, 'Oye' feels like the most entertaining conversation you’ve ever eavesdropped a rollicking, heartfelt, and utterly unique novel by an author as original as she is insightful."
As someone who has depended on public transportation for pretty much all of my life, this book was PURE TORTURE, because it reads like yet another self-involved a-hole on the bus or train going on for hours and hours and hours. Maybe the conceit and sort-of-unique narrative structure will work for other readers, maybe they will think this a fresh take on things, but for me, this was a book I truly did not like. I hope never to hear Luciana again. (Updated review: Please see additional remarks in the Comments below.)
Many thanks to NetGalley and to the publisher for a digital ARC of this book in exchange for my honest opinion.
As someone who has depended on public transportation for pretty much all of my life, this book was PURE TORTURE, because it reads like yet another self-involved a-hole on the bus or train going on for hours and hours and hours. Maybe the conceit and sort-of-unique narrative structure will work for other readers, maybe they will think this a fresh take on things, but for me, this was a book I truly did not like. I hope never to hear Luciana again. (Updated review: Please see additional remarks in the Comments below.)
Many thanks to NetGalley and to the publisher for a digital ARC of this book in exchange for my honest opinion.
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August 14, 2024EDIT: I wish I could give this book more than five stars.
Full review over on Tik Tok
Do yourself a favor and put this one on your TBR. What an unforgettable book. Full review to come.
Thanks to PRH audio for by audio arc.
Full review over on Tik Tok
Do yourself a favor and put this one on your TBR. What an unforgettable book. Full review to come.
Thanks to PRH audio for by audio arc.
May 11, 2024
Oye is a captivating debut novel from Melissa Mogollon. Told almost exclusively through phone calls with her sister Mari, Luciana, the youngest member of her lively Colombian American family, suddenly finds herself taking on the role of caregiver and confidante with her grandmother, Abue.
When the novel opens, it's the fall of 2017 and Hurricane Irma is bearing down on Florida. Luciana's family is evacuating north from Miami, reluctantly leaving behind Abue, who refuses to leave. Struggling to also be the unexpected voice of reason, Luciana has to figure out how to navigate her family's eccentricities, long-hidden secrets, and her own coming-of-age journey. As the threat of the hurricane fades, Abue faces a serious medical diagnosis, changing the family's trajectory in unforeseen ways.
Mogollon brings a strong voice in seventeen-year-old Luciana, and through her recounting of events and conversations to Mari, we get a startlingly complete picture of everyone in her life, most especially their mother, Elena, and grandmother, Emilia — whom they call Abue (short for abuela). There's style, yes — as it's all dialogue — but mostly this is absolutely overflowing with stellar characterization and gorgeous writing. This one is for the grandmothers in our lives. If you've had the benefit, as I have, of being close to one of your grandmothers, then it'll most definitely speak to you. Oye is a fantastic, heartfelt and hilarious wonderment of tenderness, joy, and love.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review.
When the novel opens, it's the fall of 2017 and Hurricane Irma is bearing down on Florida. Luciana's family is evacuating north from Miami, reluctantly leaving behind Abue, who refuses to leave. Struggling to also be the unexpected voice of reason, Luciana has to figure out how to navigate her family's eccentricities, long-hidden secrets, and her own coming-of-age journey. As the threat of the hurricane fades, Abue faces a serious medical diagnosis, changing the family's trajectory in unforeseen ways.
Mogollon brings a strong voice in seventeen-year-old Luciana, and through her recounting of events and conversations to Mari, we get a startlingly complete picture of everyone in her life, most especially their mother, Elena, and grandmother, Emilia — whom they call Abue (short for abuela). There's style, yes — as it's all dialogue — but mostly this is absolutely overflowing with stellar characterization and gorgeous writing. This one is for the grandmothers in our lives. If you've had the benefit, as I have, of being close to one of your grandmothers, then it'll most definitely speak to you. Oye is a fantastic, heartfelt and hilarious wonderment of tenderness, joy, and love.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review.
May 20, 2024
I liked the premise of this book and thought the writing was fun. It might have gone on a bit too long since it is a lot of telling and not showing. Its a clever idea, but maybe just too long.
May 9, 2024
My favorite characters are the same as my favorite people—funny, dramatic, fierce, love to gossip, care about their family, and have a sailor's mouth. If you’re like me, you will love Luciana, the main character of Melissa Mogollon’s debut novel OYE.
I remember how stressful it felt to be a teenager and how much I loved getting time off school — even if it meant a natural disaster. This is how we meet Luciana, the youngest in her Colombian American family.
While she is evacuating South Florida with her health-obsessed mom, Abue, her unconcerned grandmother, who refuses to leave, is buying lottery tickets. As torturous this road trip is for her, she is relieved to procrastinate thinking about her looming dread. However, their return is met with an unexpected health issue with Abue. As Luciana's role as caretaker brings them closer and unlocks Abue’s telenovela family history, she, in turn, receives the encouragement to live.
The epigraph “Entre broma y broma la verdad se asoma" perfectly encapsulates this story. Sometimes, the best way to understand how someone is feeling is through the jokes they tell. As funny as Luciana is, you can tell she has a lot weighing on her, from her unclear future, feeling abandoned by her sister, hiding her sexuality from her family, and her new role as the family mediator. We see her navigate living her life while balancing her duty to her family.
Family sagas are my favorite to read as they remind me that no perfect family exists. As much as this story is about Luciana, it’s also about Abue (who is equally funny and fierce). We all have stories we aren’t sharing, even with our loved ones. The ending made me very sad, as it is always tough to come to terms with accepting decisions your family makes that you might not agree with.
The format, being a one-sided phone conversation, only took me one chapter to get into, so this shouldn’t hold anyone back. It was a unique and refreshing way to understand a character because what’s more intimate than listening to someone’s phone call?
This coming-of-age story is filled with drama, humor, and heart. It shattered my preconceived notion of how a story can be told. Funnily enough, I screen almost every phone call, but if Luciana ever called me, I would pick up in a heartbeat.
Thank you so much Hogarth for the ARC. Melissa, congratulations on an unforgettable debut.
I remember how stressful it felt to be a teenager and how much I loved getting time off school — even if it meant a natural disaster. This is how we meet Luciana, the youngest in her Colombian American family.
While she is evacuating South Florida with her health-obsessed mom, Abue, her unconcerned grandmother, who refuses to leave, is buying lottery tickets. As torturous this road trip is for her, she is relieved to procrastinate thinking about her looming dread. However, their return is met with an unexpected health issue with Abue. As Luciana's role as caretaker brings them closer and unlocks Abue’s telenovela family history, she, in turn, receives the encouragement to live.
The epigraph “Entre broma y broma la verdad se asoma" perfectly encapsulates this story. Sometimes, the best way to understand how someone is feeling is through the jokes they tell. As funny as Luciana is, you can tell she has a lot weighing on her, from her unclear future, feeling abandoned by her sister, hiding her sexuality from her family, and her new role as the family mediator. We see her navigate living her life while balancing her duty to her family.
Family sagas are my favorite to read as they remind me that no perfect family exists. As much as this story is about Luciana, it’s also about Abue (who is equally funny and fierce). We all have stories we aren’t sharing, even with our loved ones. The ending made me very sad, as it is always tough to come to terms with accepting decisions your family makes that you might not agree with.
The format, being a one-sided phone conversation, only took me one chapter to get into, so this shouldn’t hold anyone back. It was a unique and refreshing way to understand a character because what’s more intimate than listening to someone’s phone call?
This coming-of-age story is filled with drama, humor, and heart. It shattered my preconceived notion of how a story can be told. Funnily enough, I screen almost every phone call, but if Luciana ever called me, I would pick up in a heartbeat.
Thank you so much Hogarth for the ARC. Melissa, congratulations on an unforgettable debut.
February 27, 2025
this novel's creative format consists of luciana's side of phone conversations with her older sister, mari. it's like a new version of an epistolary novel! but the phone calls are interspersed with dialogue from moments that luciana is recounting, which makes it all extremely hard to follow at first. after some acclimating, it's an effective format, but i can't say i enjoyed the audiobook. i appreciate luciana's character, and her many woes are very valid, especially as the story goes on, but it's still not ideal to listen to a teenager griping for hours on end.
luciana's abue is quite the character, and their grandmother-granddaughter relationship is the heart of the story. the book takes place in 2017 and kicks off with hurricane irma, and all the late-2010s teen vibes are wild to look back on. not an easy time to be a closeted lesbian kid, particularly in a columbian american family.
despite my mixed feelings on this one, i will be keeping an eye out for whatever mogollon publishes next. this story is filled with humor, drama, and heart. i love the message about living and dying with dignity, and the necessity of choosing your own path for yourself, whatever that may mean for you. the last few chapters are harrowing in the best way.
luciana's abue is quite the character, and their grandmother-granddaughter relationship is the heart of the story. the book takes place in 2017 and kicks off with hurricane irma, and all the late-2010s teen vibes are wild to look back on. not an easy time to be a closeted lesbian kid, particularly in a columbian american family.
despite my mixed feelings on this one, i will be keeping an eye out for whatever mogollon publishes next. this story is filled with humor, drama, and heart. i love the message about living and dying with dignity, and the necessity of choosing your own path for yourself, whatever that may mean for you. the last few chapters are harrowing in the best way.
June 21, 2024
As the youngest in her Colombian American family, Luciana is used to flying under the radar to avoid her family's eccentricities. However, with her sister Mari away at college, Luciana has to become the voice of reason to her family during a hurricane evacuation. Yet, the storm becomes the least of the family’s worries when their eccentric grandmother, Abue, receives a shocking medical diagnosis that changes the course of their lives. As Luciana juggles caregiving and uncovering family secrets, she confronts the realities of the end of her childhood and the intergenerational trauma that shaped her family.
This book had so many trials and tribulations - both in the actual story, but also in my attempts to read it! Initially, I picked this book up via an e-book addition, but I really struggled with this format and couldn’t get through it. Switching to the audiobook, however, really made the story come to life - thanks in no small part to the excellent narrator! Not only were the character voices distinguishable, but the narration was filled with emotion that made certain aspects of the book even more impactful.
The story is narrated to the reader through Luciana’s one-sided phone call conversations with her sister Mari, who is away at college. While this narrative structure felt authentic with its piecemeal revelations of family history, this format sometimes made the narrative feel repetitive and disjointed. For example, there are times where there are conversations happening during the call and it’s jumping back and forth between past events and the current call. There are also many passages where family history is revealed in chunks that bordered on info-dumping to the reader. I understand why this more experimental narrative choice was chosen to tell this intergenerational story, but it felt like a plot device in the grand scheme of the book rather than a natural unraveling of the story.
Additionally, this novel felt more plot-driven than character-driven. The interconnected phone calls created a distance between the reader and the main character, as it doesn’t feel like she receives any real development over the course of the book. Luciana felt very one-dimensional to me and the mere glimpses of change we start to see in her felt somewhat superficial. Although this story is centered around Luciana’s family, most of the characters felt static except for her grandmother. Abue truly had a larger than life personality and stood out as a multi-dimensional character who carried this book in terms of her character and humor. There were many parts where she was so quick-witted and her antics were simply laugh out loud funny. She brought a vibrancy to this story that made it easy to understand why Luciana was attached to her hip. I just wish we could have seen more of that vibrancy and development from other characters as well because everyone else fell a bit flat for me.
Overall, the intergenerational trauma and familial expectations affecting the main character were poignant, yet the format hindered my emotional connection to the story and caused some hiccups in the actual storytelling. I don’t think this is by any means a bad book, but the formatting undermined the story for me.
This book had so many trials and tribulations - both in the actual story, but also in my attempts to read it! Initially, I picked this book up via an e-book addition, but I really struggled with this format and couldn’t get through it. Switching to the audiobook, however, really made the story come to life - thanks in no small part to the excellent narrator! Not only were the character voices distinguishable, but the narration was filled with emotion that made certain aspects of the book even more impactful.
The story is narrated to the reader through Luciana’s one-sided phone call conversations with her sister Mari, who is away at college. While this narrative structure felt authentic with its piecemeal revelations of family history, this format sometimes made the narrative feel repetitive and disjointed. For example, there are times where there are conversations happening during the call and it’s jumping back and forth between past events and the current call. There are also many passages where family history is revealed in chunks that bordered on info-dumping to the reader. I understand why this more experimental narrative choice was chosen to tell this intergenerational story, but it felt like a plot device in the grand scheme of the book rather than a natural unraveling of the story.
Additionally, this novel felt more plot-driven than character-driven. The interconnected phone calls created a distance between the reader and the main character, as it doesn’t feel like she receives any real development over the course of the book. Luciana felt very one-dimensional to me and the mere glimpses of change we start to see in her felt somewhat superficial. Although this story is centered around Luciana’s family, most of the characters felt static except for her grandmother. Abue truly had a larger than life personality and stood out as a multi-dimensional character who carried this book in terms of her character and humor. There were many parts where she was so quick-witted and her antics were simply laugh out loud funny. She brought a vibrancy to this story that made it easy to understand why Luciana was attached to her hip. I just wish we could have seen more of that vibrancy and development from other characters as well because everyone else fell a bit flat for me.
Overall, the intergenerational trauma and familial expectations affecting the main character were poignant, yet the format hindered my emotional connection to the story and caused some hiccups in the actual storytelling. I don’t think this is by any means a bad book, but the formatting undermined the story for me.
May 14, 2024
4.25 stars! I should add that the style in which this book is written is very unique and took some getting used to, but once you get that, you'll be drawn in completely!
This was like having a funny, heartfelt and endearing conversation with my ✨younger✨ Latina friend.
I audibly laughed out loud several times and really connected with Lucianna and Abue’s story. It was sad, frustrating and brave and she deserved the biggest hug!
This is a fairly quick and easy read. The chapters are short and I love that there are Spanish references (many I understood but a few I looked up).
Thank you go NetGalley, Hogarth Press and the author for the advanced e-copy of the book.
This was like having a funny, heartfelt and endearing conversation with my ✨younger✨ Latina friend.
I audibly laughed out loud several times and really connected with Lucianna and Abue’s story. It was sad, frustrating and brave and she deserved the biggest hug!
This is a fairly quick and easy read. The chapters are short and I love that there are Spanish references (many I understood but a few I looked up).
Thank you go NetGalley, Hogarth Press and the author for the advanced e-copy of the book.
March 15, 2024
Oye is unique in that it is a series of phone calls that tell a story. I'll be honest that it was a little confusing at times. Most of the story is told by Luciana as she calls her sister who is away at college. In the phone calls you learn all about her grandmother who at first was left alone during a hurricane and then later is going through a health crisis. There is a lot that goes on and there are some really interesting back stories about the grandmother. However this book just wasn't for me. I didn't like the phone call format. I just wasn't as invested as I would have liked to be. Plus there were italics that showed when other people were talking but I had a hard time following who was speaking. I would recommend this book to people looking for a unique type of book about family relationships.
Thank you to Random House/Hogarth for this ARC>
Thank you to Random House/Hogarth for this ARC>
June 8, 2024
not many books can make me ugly cry for a solid ten minutes straight but this one did. this is a phenomenal book and i’m super glad to have read this. it definitely has a unique writing style in which the MC is on the phone with her sister and took some getting use to for me. this story really hit home considering some major plot points and themes. it was funny, sad, overall a great read.
regardless, if mogollon has one fan, I AM THE ONE! continue to write more stories! thank you to get netgalley and random house publishing for giving me an ARC 🫶🏽
regardless, if mogollon has one fan, I AM THE ONE! continue to write more stories! thank you to get netgalley and random house publishing for giving me an ARC 🫶🏽
January 6, 2024
Oye, a bildungsroman told in three parts, offers all the secrets of a dysfunctional family. The novel opens with Luciana getting her confiscated phone returned from her teacher. She sees six missed calls from Mari, and her caustic language sets the tone for the tension that weaves throughout the book: “Wait, it’s Mari? This fucking bitch.” This routine pejorative unironically follows with hurt: “I hadn’t heard a peep out of you…I texted you being vulnerable.” Mogollon’s language sizzles between sibling rivalry, contempt, sarcastic humor, the pain of rejection, and longing for connection. A one sided dialogue between sisters unravels toxic dynamics and family secrets.
The structure of the novel hands all the storytelling power to Luciana. In these phone conversations, she guides the topics and sets the tone. If you want a politically correct “both sides” novel, this ain’t it. The audience must shift from passive to active reader with this author’s choice of form - a dialogue in which the reader has access to only one speaker - and use one’s own repertoire of family toxicity to know what Mari has said. For any reader with a sibling, we all have that grocery list of verbal slights that still haunt us. We’ve thrown down in those same verbal sparring matches, so we know what the older sibling says.
The inclusion of Hurricane Irma acts as a cleverly placed allusion taking the reader back to 2017, a not so distant memory of tremendous destruction. Like Irma, we think this novel will go one way, but it quickly veers in another direction. Throughout the duration of the novel, Luciana and Mari’s conversation rankles with teen snark, ending with a fall out. The reader may think this story will end with reunification, but when Luciana dives into family history, she moves the epicenter of this story over Emilia, the abuela. And like a tempest lifting roofs, so too does this story lift away all of the barriers that concealed all the family secrets.
Mogollon’s novel certainly explores the grandmother-mother-daughter-sibling relationships. But equally, she punches up against the national dilemma of homophobia metastasizing across America. This culture war occupies multiple fronts, and the most brutal one resides under the family roof. In quick verbal slices, Luciana lets slip the hurt she feels from her family’s indifference to homophobia. Mari will intern for the 2017 Whitehouse when TheOrangeMan is in office. Mari has already interned with Gov. Rick Scott of Florida - a man who seeks to limit the rights of gay people. Luciana, still a kid finding her political chops, employs sarcasm to convey the pain of Mari’s betrayal. Luciana also tells Mari that their mother belongs to an evangelical neighborhood group chat, and when Luciana sees the homophobic content, her mother quickly snatches the phone out of Luciana’s hands. As if one can unsee homophobia if the snatching happens quickly. Her mother doesn’t push back against the homophobia, rather she holds the neighborhood secret. Yes, the political battle looms large on America’s national stage, but Mogollon shows that within the home, a family’s complicity cuts the deepest in this culture war.
These political sidebars carve through the novel, quick paper cuts that nick away at both protagonist and reader. The reader, pulled out of the story and into the American zeitgeist, discovers nightmare and dystopia. Having to confront so much ugliness, the reader surely swings full support behind Luciana. Does the reader then forgive Luciana of her own ugly behaviors because this queer protagonist faces an onslaught of casual bigotry?
No easy answer exists because the reader doesn’t get an uncomplicated hero. Mogollon muddies Luciana’s heroism with her propensity for guilt tripping her sister, and her own childish and casual misogyny. Yes, calling one’s sister - or any woman for that matter - a slut, whore, ho, or a bitch are manifestations of misogyny. And yes, young girls learn this language, internalize it, and then reshape that language into malicious verbal sucker punches. The reader has to tease out how much of this ugly name calling is typical sister banter and how much of it is a retaliatory weapon when Luciana doesn’t get the sisterly love she seeks. But Mogollon doesn’t moralize here. She simply presents a flawed high school kid reluctantly moving towards young adulthood. Our hero isn’t always likable. To escape this negative spin, Luciana has to retreat from Mari.
In this pursuit of connection, Luciana draws closer to her brash grandmother. A tumor, a surgery, a recovery, a relapse, and a metastasizing absorb Luciana’s senior year of high school. Through the months of caring for Abue, Luciana becomes the recipient of the family secrets and histories. Mother, Abue, and Tía all provide variations on the same theme of historic family trauma.
What readers learn from these variations is the power of narrative perspective. Here, Mogollon hits a master stroke. Storytelling from the perspective of those complicit with the oppressor minimizes damage and absolves themselves for their part in the damage. Emilia, the family matriarch and survivor of horror, reveals a history that vibrates with pain. Her history resonates as nothing but the closest one can get to truth. Mogollon’s structural choice, narrating only through Luciana’s perspective, serves a purpose. Emilia’s story, told through Luciana’s lens, moves the reader to empathy, a perspective that most closely approximates the truth the reader will get about this dysfunctional family unit.
This novel is not just the story of a girl coming of age, it’s a look back at a history of women who employ personal strength to survive catastrophe. And personal strength doesn’t always come across as likable to the reader. Abue’s strength requires setting boundaries. What first appears to Luciana as her grandmother’s irrational stubbornness now functions as a template for the protagonist’s own path to young womanhood. Family does not have to be embraced, especially when members of the family are complicit with the oppressor. The Ernestos and Marcos of the world, predators and abusers, should never be tolerated, in particular by Luciana’s mother.
This novel answers America’s current dilemma - our bent towards the destruction of the other. Luciana’s answer is a resounding “I will not forgive your complicity.” Like her grandmother before her, Luciana also sets firm and clear boundaries, and does not waiver. This is how the reader knows that Luciana has moved from childish things to young womanhood.
The structure of the novel hands all the storytelling power to Luciana. In these phone conversations, she guides the topics and sets the tone. If you want a politically correct “both sides” novel, this ain’t it. The audience must shift from passive to active reader with this author’s choice of form - a dialogue in which the reader has access to only one speaker - and use one’s own repertoire of family toxicity to know what Mari has said. For any reader with a sibling, we all have that grocery list of verbal slights that still haunt us. We’ve thrown down in those same verbal sparring matches, so we know what the older sibling says.
The inclusion of Hurricane Irma acts as a cleverly placed allusion taking the reader back to 2017, a not so distant memory of tremendous destruction. Like Irma, we think this novel will go one way, but it quickly veers in another direction. Throughout the duration of the novel, Luciana and Mari’s conversation rankles with teen snark, ending with a fall out. The reader may think this story will end with reunification, but when Luciana dives into family history, she moves the epicenter of this story over Emilia, the abuela. And like a tempest lifting roofs, so too does this story lift away all of the barriers that concealed all the family secrets.
Mogollon’s novel certainly explores the grandmother-mother-daughter-sibling relationships. But equally, she punches up against the national dilemma of homophobia metastasizing across America. This culture war occupies multiple fronts, and the most brutal one resides under the family roof. In quick verbal slices, Luciana lets slip the hurt she feels from her family’s indifference to homophobia. Mari will intern for the 2017 Whitehouse when TheOrangeMan is in office. Mari has already interned with Gov. Rick Scott of Florida - a man who seeks to limit the rights of gay people. Luciana, still a kid finding her political chops, employs sarcasm to convey the pain of Mari’s betrayal. Luciana also tells Mari that their mother belongs to an evangelical neighborhood group chat, and when Luciana sees the homophobic content, her mother quickly snatches the phone out of Luciana’s hands. As if one can unsee homophobia if the snatching happens quickly. Her mother doesn’t push back against the homophobia, rather she holds the neighborhood secret. Yes, the political battle looms large on America’s national stage, but Mogollon shows that within the home, a family’s complicity cuts the deepest in this culture war.
These political sidebars carve through the novel, quick paper cuts that nick away at both protagonist and reader. The reader, pulled out of the story and into the American zeitgeist, discovers nightmare and dystopia. Having to confront so much ugliness, the reader surely swings full support behind Luciana. Does the reader then forgive Luciana of her own ugly behaviors because this queer protagonist faces an onslaught of casual bigotry?
No easy answer exists because the reader doesn’t get an uncomplicated hero. Mogollon muddies Luciana’s heroism with her propensity for guilt tripping her sister, and her own childish and casual misogyny. Yes, calling one’s sister - or any woman for that matter - a slut, whore, ho, or a bitch are manifestations of misogyny. And yes, young girls learn this language, internalize it, and then reshape that language into malicious verbal sucker punches. The reader has to tease out how much of this ugly name calling is typical sister banter and how much of it is a retaliatory weapon when Luciana doesn’t get the sisterly love she seeks. But Mogollon doesn’t moralize here. She simply presents a flawed high school kid reluctantly moving towards young adulthood. Our hero isn’t always likable. To escape this negative spin, Luciana has to retreat from Mari.
In this pursuit of connection, Luciana draws closer to her brash grandmother. A tumor, a surgery, a recovery, a relapse, and a metastasizing absorb Luciana’s senior year of high school. Through the months of caring for Abue, Luciana becomes the recipient of the family secrets and histories. Mother, Abue, and Tía all provide variations on the same theme of historic family trauma.
What readers learn from these variations is the power of narrative perspective. Here, Mogollon hits a master stroke. Storytelling from the perspective of those complicit with the oppressor minimizes damage and absolves themselves for their part in the damage. Emilia, the family matriarch and survivor of horror, reveals a history that vibrates with pain. Her history resonates as nothing but the closest one can get to truth. Mogollon’s structural choice, narrating only through Luciana’s perspective, serves a purpose. Emilia’s story, told through Luciana’s lens, moves the reader to empathy, a perspective that most closely approximates the truth the reader will get about this dysfunctional family unit.
This novel is not just the story of a girl coming of age, it’s a look back at a history of women who employ personal strength to survive catastrophe. And personal strength doesn’t always come across as likable to the reader. Abue’s strength requires setting boundaries. What first appears to Luciana as her grandmother’s irrational stubbornness now functions as a template for the protagonist’s own path to young womanhood. Family does not have to be embraced, especially when members of the family are complicit with the oppressor. The Ernestos and Marcos of the world, predators and abusers, should never be tolerated, in particular by Luciana’s mother.
This novel answers America’s current dilemma - our bent towards the destruction of the other. Luciana’s answer is a resounding “I will not forgive your complicity.” Like her grandmother before her, Luciana also sets firm and clear boundaries, and does not waiver. This is how the reader knows that Luciana has moved from childish things to young womanhood.
August 20, 2025
3.75 stars
This one has a really unique structure as it is mainly told as a one-sided conversation from Luciana to her sister Mari who is away at college. I ended up mostly listening to this on audiobook with the ebook because it can take a second to get used to the format, which is one of those big details that I think will make or break the book for you. But I think it is worth a try, especially if you enjoy coming of age stories and/or immigrant family stories.
Watch my full review: https://youtu.be/1eQ0OVW8Q50
This one has a really unique structure as it is mainly told as a one-sided conversation from Luciana to her sister Mari who is away at college. I ended up mostly listening to this on audiobook with the ebook because it can take a second to get used to the format, which is one of those big details that I think will make or break the book for you. But I think it is worth a try, especially if you enjoy coming of age stories and/or immigrant family stories.
Watch my full review: https://youtu.be/1eQ0OVW8Q50
May 16, 2024
This was such a FANTASTIC debut about a queer Columbian American woman dealing with her grandmother's recent cancer diagnosis. Told through a series of mostly one-sided phone conversations we get to know Luciana, who misses her sister off in college and is trying to hold the family together as they deal with a liver cancer diagnosis with their grandmother. Full of complicated family dynamics, disability rep (IBS, endometriosis, and ADHD) and laugh out loud humor, this is great on audio and perfect for fans of authors like Xochitl Gonzalez. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an early digital and audio copy in exchange for my honest reveiw!
June 16, 2024
I have had such a hard time wrapping my thoughts around this book because truthfully, the way it is told is brilliant.
I received an ecopy of this book through Netgalley; however, my opinions are my own.
I received an ecopy of this book through Netgalley; however, my opinions are my own.
August 22, 2024
(Review in Spanish at bottom/Reseña en español abajo)
1.5/5 (and only rounding up because the author is Colombian)
My God I was soooo disappointed with this book.
First-generation Colombian-American here, and when I saw this book was coming out I was super excited! Then the book finally came off hold and it took so much out of me not to DNF this book. As much as it pained me, I finished the book in its entirety to give a proper review.
I've seen plenty of people complain about the format, it's essentially a one-sided phone call telling a story, but that was really the least of my concerns because the format just takes some getting used to- what really drove me up the wall was the main character.
Correction, all the characters. I don't think there was one likeable character to be found in this book, but since the only one that ever spoke was the main character, whose name is escaping me and for good reason, she was definitely the most unbearable of them all. Her dialogue and just entire mindset was extremely whitewashed and came off as more a critique of Colombian culture rather than the love letter I figured this book would be. Reminded me of the whitewashed cousins and siblings I have that produce nothing but disgust in me since they want nothing to do with their own culture and condemn it for not being to the likes of their preferred American culture.
The grandmother that the book centered on was also terrible and she embodied one of the only critiques I could agree with about Colombian culture: the obsession with plastic surgery. The mom was one of the most reasonable characters in the sense that she knew what was worth saying and what wasn't, but unfortunately she was homophobic so there was no true saving grace for her character. The poor older sister was just being yelled at by the main character the entire time and punished for not wanting to have anything to do with her family, which I don't blame her for. An ignorant mother and an insufferable younger sister is not something I'd be running to go back home to on my breaks from school. Also, the premise focuses on a dying grandmother, I could see why the older sister was also in no rush to face that head on and chose to not visit the hospital.
Overall, like I mentioned, this book felt like it was just criticism after criticism of Colombian culture. The only half interesting part was the uncovering of family secrets and dealing with being gay in a homophobic household, but even then because the main character was absolutely annoying I didn't want to hear it.
Not my favorite Colombian book, too far from it.
---
Que decepción tan hpta.
Como buena colombiana-estadounidense, cuando vi que este libro iba a salir, ¡me emocioné muchísimo! Pero despues me costó demasiado no abandonar el libro.
He visto a mucha gente quejarse del formato, es esencialmente una llamada telefónica unilateral que cuenta una historia, pero esa fue realmente la menor de mis preocupaciones porque el formato solamente requiere un tiempo para acostumbrarse; lo que realmente me sacaba la piedra fue la protagonista.
Corrección, todos los personajes. No creo que haya un solo personaje agradable en este libro, pero dado que la única que habló fue la protagonista, cuyo nombre no recuerdo y por una buena razón, definitivamente fue la más insoportable de todos. Su diálogo y toda su mentalidad fueron extremadamente gringos y dieron la impresión de ser más una crítica de la cultura colombiana que la carta de amor que pensé que sería este libro. Pero cuando te digo que era gringa esta pendeja es que era REgringa. Me recordó a mis primos y hermanos gringos que únicamente me producen asco, ya que no quieren tener nada que ver con su propia cultura y a quienes solo salen reproches de sus bocas cuando tratan a sus familiares colombianos por esperar de que encajen a su preferida cultura: la estadounidense.
La abuela en la que se centra el libro también era terrible y encarnaba una de las únicas críticas con las que podía estar de acuerdo sobre la cultura colombiana: la obsesión por la cirugía plástica. La mamá era uno de los personajes más razonables en el sentido de que sabía lo que valía la pena ocultar y lo que no, pero desafortunadamente era homofóbica, entonces no había una verdadera gracia salvadora para su personaje. La pobre hermana mayor solo fue gritada por la protagonista durante todo el libro y practicamente castigada por no querer tener nada que ver con su familia, algo por lo que no la culpo. Una madre ignorante y una hermana menor insoportable no es algo por lo que me haria correr a casa. Además, la premisa se centra en una abuela moribunda y el lector puede ver por qué la hermana mayor tampoco tenía prisa por enfrentar eso y eligir no visitar el hospital en ese entonces.
Por lo general, como mencioné, este libro parecía una crítica tras otra de la cultura colombiana. La única parte medio interesante fue el descubrimiento de secretos familiares y el hecho de ser gay en un hogar homofóbico, pero incluso entonces, como el personaje principal era una tipa inmamable y absolutamente acomplejada, me importaba un culo.
No es mi libro colombiano favorito, en realidad, está muy lejos de serlo y me da mucha pena pero no puedo recomendarselo a nadie- en especial a cualquier colombiano que se respete.
1.5/5 (and only rounding up because the author is Colombian)
My God I was soooo disappointed with this book.
First-generation Colombian-American here, and when I saw this book was coming out I was super excited! Then the book finally came off hold and it took so much out of me not to DNF this book. As much as it pained me, I finished the book in its entirety to give a proper review.
I've seen plenty of people complain about the format, it's essentially a one-sided phone call telling a story, but that was really the least of my concerns because the format just takes some getting used to- what really drove me up the wall was the main character.
Correction, all the characters. I don't think there was one likeable character to be found in this book, but since the only one that ever spoke was the main character, whose name is escaping me and for good reason, she was definitely the most unbearable of them all. Her dialogue and just entire mindset was extremely whitewashed and came off as more a critique of Colombian culture rather than the love letter I figured this book would be. Reminded me of the whitewashed cousins and siblings I have that produce nothing but disgust in me since they want nothing to do with their own culture and condemn it for not being to the likes of their preferred American culture.
The grandmother that the book centered on was also terrible and she embodied one of the only critiques I could agree with about Colombian culture: the obsession with plastic surgery. The mom was one of the most reasonable characters in the sense that she knew what was worth saying and what wasn't, but unfortunately she was homophobic so there was no true saving grace for her character. The poor older sister was just being yelled at by the main character the entire time and punished for not wanting to have anything to do with her family, which I don't blame her for. An ignorant mother and an insufferable younger sister is not something I'd be running to go back home to on my breaks from school. Also, the premise focuses on a dying grandmother, I could see why the older sister was also in no rush to face that head on and chose to not visit the hospital.
Overall, like I mentioned, this book felt like it was just criticism after criticism of Colombian culture. The only half interesting part was the uncovering of family secrets and dealing with being gay in a homophobic household, but even then because the main character was absolutely annoying I didn't want to hear it.
Not my favorite Colombian book, too far from it.
---
Que decepción tan hpta.
Como buena colombiana-estadounidense, cuando vi que este libro iba a salir, ¡me emocioné muchísimo! Pero despues me costó demasiado no abandonar el libro.
He visto a mucha gente quejarse del formato, es esencialmente una llamada telefónica unilateral que cuenta una historia, pero esa fue realmente la menor de mis preocupaciones porque el formato solamente requiere un tiempo para acostumbrarse; lo que realmente me sacaba la piedra fue la protagonista.
Corrección, todos los personajes. No creo que haya un solo personaje agradable en este libro, pero dado que la única que habló fue la protagonista, cuyo nombre no recuerdo y por una buena razón, definitivamente fue la más insoportable de todos. Su diálogo y toda su mentalidad fueron extremadamente gringos y dieron la impresión de ser más una crítica de la cultura colombiana que la carta de amor que pensé que sería este libro. Pero cuando te digo que era gringa esta pendeja es que era REgringa. Me recordó a mis primos y hermanos gringos que únicamente me producen asco, ya que no quieren tener nada que ver con su propia cultura y a quienes solo salen reproches de sus bocas cuando tratan a sus familiares colombianos por esperar de que encajen a su preferida cultura: la estadounidense.
La abuela en la que se centra el libro también era terrible y encarnaba una de las únicas críticas con las que podía estar de acuerdo sobre la cultura colombiana: la obsesión por la cirugía plástica. La mamá era uno de los personajes más razonables en el sentido de que sabía lo que valía la pena ocultar y lo que no, pero desafortunadamente era homofóbica, entonces no había una verdadera gracia salvadora para su personaje. La pobre hermana mayor solo fue gritada por la protagonista durante todo el libro y practicamente castigada por no querer tener nada que ver con su familia, algo por lo que no la culpo. Una madre ignorante y una hermana menor insoportable no es algo por lo que me haria correr a casa. Además, la premisa se centra en una abuela moribunda y el lector puede ver por qué la hermana mayor tampoco tenía prisa por enfrentar eso y eligir no visitar el hospital en ese entonces.
Por lo general, como mencioné, este libro parecía una crítica tras otra de la cultura colombiana. La única parte medio interesante fue el descubrimiento de secretos familiares y el hecho de ser gay en un hogar homofóbico, pero incluso entonces, como el personaje principal era una tipa inmamable y absolutamente acomplejada, me importaba un culo.
No es mi libro colombiano favorito, en realidad, está muy lejos de serlo y me da mucha pena pero no puedo recomendarselo a nadie- en especial a cualquier colombiano que se respete.
May 23, 2024
Lovely, funny, and often sad family novel told through a high school senior's end of her conversations with her sister off at college. Excellent audio narration by Elena Rey.
November 20, 2023
Who doesn’t love eavesdropping on interesting conversations? With Melissa Mongollon’s incredible novel, Oye, you can immerse yourself in some scandalous family history (and present), without fear of being caught.
In Oye, Melissa Mongollon has created a vivid, fascinating, and emotional world through several one-sided phone conversations between Luciana and her older sister, Mari. Mari has gone to college, leaving Luciana to navigate the drama of her Colombian American family.
Luciana’s Abuela, Abue, receives devastating health news, sending the family into a spiral. Abue heavily resists a visit from her sister, provoking Luciana’s interest in her family’s history. Years of heartache unfold, and Luciana reports back to an indifferent Mari. And at the same time, Luciana is dealing with her health-conscious mother’s jabs at her weight, and a crush on a cute bartender.
Once I started reading Oye, I could not stop. Luciana is a wonderful character, and the story keeps unfolding in a gorgeous way. It was like sitting down with one of my particularly animated friends. I can imagine the audiobook of Oye will be amazing. The ending made me weep; it is just perfect.
Oye is an utterly unique, incredibly special novel that brought me so much joy. I look forward to revisiting this one as often as I can.
In Oye, Melissa Mongollon has created a vivid, fascinating, and emotional world through several one-sided phone conversations between Luciana and her older sister, Mari. Mari has gone to college, leaving Luciana to navigate the drama of her Colombian American family.
Luciana’s Abuela, Abue, receives devastating health news, sending the family into a spiral. Abue heavily resists a visit from her sister, provoking Luciana’s interest in her family’s history. Years of heartache unfold, and Luciana reports back to an indifferent Mari. And at the same time, Luciana is dealing with her health-conscious mother’s jabs at her weight, and a crush on a cute bartender.
Once I started reading Oye, I could not stop. Luciana is a wonderful character, and the story keeps unfolding in a gorgeous way. It was like sitting down with one of my particularly animated friends. I can imagine the audiobook of Oye will be amazing. The ending made me weep; it is just perfect.
Oye is an utterly unique, incredibly special novel that brought me so much joy. I look forward to revisiting this one as often as I can.
June 8, 2024
I was so excited to read a telenovela as a book but the style and format was such a drag. Telling a story as a one-sided phone call is cool and quirky for the first 30 pages, but after that it’s just limiting the story
March 30, 2025
Absolutely loved it. So original with the perspective. But also, the story line, the great characters, which had me laughing and deeply feeling. Great audio version!! So well done.
August 5, 2024
Hilarious, heart wrenching, and brilliant. I will look forward to reading whatever Melissa Mogollon writes next!
August 16, 2024
TITLE: OYE
AUTHOR: Melissa Mogollon
PUB DATE: 05.14.2024
As Luciana chronicles the events of her disrupted senior year of high school over the phone to Mari, Oye unfolds like the most fascinating and entertaining conversation you’ve ever eavesdropped on: a rollicking, heartfelt, and utterly unique novel that celebrates the beauty revealed and resilience required when rewriting your own story.
THOUGHTS:
OYE is a moving coming of age story told through a very unique story telling style in the voice of Luciana, a senior in high school, as she speaks with her sister Mari over the phone and we get to eves-drop a one sided convo. The characters are unique especially Abue Emilia, the grandmother who was just diagnosed with terminal illness. There are secrets, a hurricane, and so much more. I loved the funny dysfunctional Colombian American family I just cannot get enough of. Fantastic debut!
AUTHOR: Melissa Mogollon
PUB DATE: 05.14.2024
As Luciana chronicles the events of her disrupted senior year of high school over the phone to Mari, Oye unfolds like the most fascinating and entertaining conversation you’ve ever eavesdropped on: a rollicking, heartfelt, and utterly unique novel that celebrates the beauty revealed and resilience required when rewriting your own story.
THOUGHTS:
OYE is a moving coming of age story told through a very unique story telling style in the voice of Luciana, a senior in high school, as she speaks with her sister Mari over the phone and we get to eves-drop a one sided convo. The characters are unique especially Abue Emilia, the grandmother who was just diagnosed with terminal illness. There are secrets, a hurricane, and so much more. I loved the funny dysfunctional Colombian American family I just cannot get enough of. Fantastic debut!
May 19, 2025
Reading Oye is like watching someone assemble IKEA furniture blindfolded—it’s confusing, frustrating, and you’re not entirely sure it’s going to turn into a chair. But then BAM—the last few pages hit and suddenly it’s not a chair, it’s a whole damn throne.
For most of the book, I was like: “Luciana, girl, why are you doing the most for literally everyone but yourself?” And the grandma? She’s got her hands in everyone’s business like it’s a family group chat she refuses to leave. I kept asking myself, “Why is this happening?” but also couldn’t stop reading because I just knew it would pay off.
And it does. The end is like emotional Sudoku—it all clicks into place and you feel like a genius for sticking with it.
The themes? ICONIC. Living life for you, not your ancestors, your Instagram followers, or your aggressively opinionated abuela. It’s a slow burn with big payoff energy—like therapy, if your therapist served dramatic plot twists and quiet rage instead of worksheets.
Read this if you’ve ever had the urge to run away, fake your death, or at least stop answering your family’s FaceTime calls.
For most of the book, I was like: “Luciana, girl, why are you doing the most for literally everyone but yourself?” And the grandma? She’s got her hands in everyone’s business like it’s a family group chat she refuses to leave. I kept asking myself, “Why is this happening?” but also couldn’t stop reading because I just knew it would pay off.
And it does. The end is like emotional Sudoku—it all clicks into place and you feel like a genius for sticking with it.
The themes? ICONIC. Living life for you, not your ancestors, your Instagram followers, or your aggressively opinionated abuela. It’s a slow burn with big payoff energy—like therapy, if your therapist served dramatic plot twists and quiet rage instead of worksheets.
Read this if you’ve ever had the urge to run away, fake your death, or at least stop answering your family’s FaceTime calls.
May 28, 2024
Thank you PRH Audio for my gifted ALC
Oye
Melissa Mogollon
🎙️ Elena Rey
Out now
⭐⭐⭐⭐
Oye is a compelling, inventive, character-driven coming-of-age novel, told through a series of one-sided phone conversations between sisters. Brimming with humor and heart, Oye explores themes of identity, sexuality, intergenerational trauma, and familial relationships within a Colombian American household. Beautifully narrated by Elena Rey.
Oye
Melissa Mogollon
🎙️ Elena Rey
Out now
⭐⭐⭐⭐
Oye is a compelling, inventive, character-driven coming-of-age novel, told through a series of one-sided phone conversations between sisters. Brimming with humor and heart, Oye explores themes of identity, sexuality, intergenerational trauma, and familial relationships within a Colombian American household. Beautifully narrated by Elena Rey.
November 19, 2024
What a unique book! This book is told through one way phone calls between sisters as their grandmother goes through cancer treatments. I thought the characters were very believable and the writing was touching! Definitely recommend!
Thank you Netgalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review
Thank you Netgalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review
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