We Could Be Rats

by Emily R. Austin, Candace Thaxton (Narrator)

A moving story about two very different sisters, and a love letter to childhood, growing up, and the power of imagination—from the bestselling author of Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead and Interesting Facts About Space.

Sigrid hates working at the Dollar Pal but having always resisted the idea of growing up into the trappings of adulthood, she did not graduate high school, preferring to roam the streets of her small town with her best friend Greta, the only person in the world who ever understood her. Her older sister Margit is baffled and frustrated by Sigrid’s inability to conform to the expectations of polite society.

But Sigrid’s detachment veils a deeper turmoil and sensitivity. She’s haunted by the pains of her past—from pretending her parents were swamp monsters when they shook the floorboards with their violent arguments to grappling with losing Greta’s friendship to the opioid epidemic ravaging their town. As Margit sets out to understand Sigrid and the secrets she has hidden, both sisters, in their own time and way, discover that reigniting their shared childhood imagination is the only way forward.

What unfolds is an unforgettable story of two sisters finding their way back to each other, and a celebration of that transcendent, unshakable bond.

Genres: Fiction, LGBT, Contemporary, Queer, Literary Fiction, Audiobook, Lesbian

6 pages, Audible Audio

First published January 28, 2025

About the author

Emily Austin is the author of EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM WILL SOMEDAY BE DEAD, INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT SPACE, GAY GIRL PRAYERS, WE COULD BE RATS, and IS THIS A CRY FOR HELP. She currently resides in Ottawa/the territory of the Anishinaabe Algonquin Nation.

Reviews

[emma · Rating 5 out of 5]

i will keep reading lit fic about weird lesbians finding themselves as long as emily austin keeps writing it.

so no surprise this is my first five star of the year! even better, it got my personal gold seal of approval: making me cry on an airplane.

i just think we're so lucky to have emily austin's wacky goofy funny cynical cutting loving brilliant brain helping us to navigate these unprecedented times. this book helped me make sense of so much in my own worldview: how i can love others and believe people are good, even while i am horrified to see the timeline we appear to be on.

being surrounded by strangers with so much love in my heart in this book that also manages to be funny...it was a treat beyond words.

bottom line: the book i needed when i needed it.

(thank you to the publisher for the copy!!!)

[kat · Rating 5 out of 5]

we could be rats. short but intricate. definite favorite of the year. made me feel moved in a way i struggle to describe but treasure deeply. if i WERE a rat and this book was a juicy pile of trash, i would be so content to feast upon it forever; i would swim in it; i would burrow my little rodent body in it at night for the most blissful slumber. beyond grateful to emily austin for authoring this story, as well as the publisher for sharing an advanced copy with me. the rattoo is imminent.


oct 2024:

atria books saw this silly ass comment and emailed me!!!


jan 2024:

attempt #2 of kat promising to get a rat tattoo if i somehow receive an ARC of this book (this time with some relevance)

[nicole k · Rating 5 out of 5]

i’m seated. the bookstore employees are scared and asking me to leave because it’s “not january 2025 yet” but i’m simply too seated

[Rebecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

“I get this desperate feeling sometimes. Like I’m a kid banging inside the cage of my adult body, dying to escape to the moon.”

Every now and then a book wanders into your life, cracks its knuckles, and says, “Right, let’s shake things up.” This was one of those. I adored it, every strange, tender, anxious, beautifully off kilter page.

Austin has an uncanny way of writing characters who shouldn’t make sense but somehow feel like old friends, messy, earnest, quietly spiralling, and trying their absolute best (or something close to it). The humour sits right on that perfect line between dark and disarmingly human, and the emotional notes land with a softness that snuck up on me.

Honestly? It was a breath of fresh air. Sharp without being cynical, heartfelt without the fluff, weird in the most intentional way. Exactly the kind of story that reminds me why I love picking up books in the first place.

If you’re in the mood for something original, slightly chaotic, and unexpectedly moving, this one’s an easy yes!

My Highest Recommendation.

[Sunny Lu · Rating 5 out of 5]

broke my heart and mended it back together

[BJ Lillis · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve never read another book quite like We Could Be Rats. It’s like—what if you had a classic sort of YA novel, the kind of edge-of-adulthood book that combines silly adolescent fantasies with real trauma, that earnestly includes both playing with barbies and attempted suicide. But then, you crossed that with an obscure Central European Noble Prize winner about the unstable nature of reality and the fundamental impossibility of using narrative to capture human experience. So that, on the one hand, a lot of the novel’s imagery felt not quite as original as it seemed to think it was. But on the other hand, that sense of an unstable narrative reality shifting beneath your feet was so well executed that it was genuinely unnerving.

And then, what if this novel pulled a real bait-and-switch on you. And you wondered if you thought you were reading about one thing, but really, you were reading about something else. After all, you thought you were reading about one person, and really, you were reading about someone else. And then you might think—it might cross your mind—that Emily Austen had taken a kind of accessible, YA-adjacent, very millennial queer storytelling, and done something pretty special with it.

[Emma Griffioen · Rating 3 out of 5]

"I'm not sure why we tell kids everyone's so unique. We aren't really. I get wanting to make kids feel special, but most people are more of the same. It might be easier to grow up if kids weren't sold this tale that we're all exceptional... We're mostly ordinary." Page 26

By Canadian author Emily R. Austin, We Could Be Rats is a coming-of-age story about two sisters, Sigrid and Margit, who have drifted apart after one stays in their small hometown after highschool and the other moves away for college. With an interesting format, this book was emotional, yet pragmatic. It reminded me slightly of the movie Lady Bird. Definitely check the trigger warnings before picking it up, as there are some sensitive topics!

3.5 stars

Thank you to Netgalley and Atria Books for the advanced reader copy of We Could Be Rats by Emily R. Austin in exchange for an honest review!

[Celine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I feel completely sucker-punched by this novel, as well as unsure of where to start in reviewing it.

I’ve been a fan of Emily Austin’s novels since the first one released. Every book she’s written has felt like it’s come at a time when I needed it.

We Could Be Rats is undoubtedly her best yet. Though the book contains her signature style of blending sentimental insights and bursts of sharp humor, this is the first time we see her play with form and narration—and it completely pays off.

So many versions of myself felt seen in this novel. The child, the young adult…the person reading on the train ride home. The last chapter caused me to burst into tears.

Perfect books exist and Emily Austin is the one writing them.

(Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for an early review copy)

[Alwynne · Rating 2 out of 5]

Emily Austin’s novel is a detailed exploration of troubled bonds between two sisters. Sigrid thinks of her older sister Margit as their family’s ‘golden child.’ Margit performed well at school, now she’s at university, seemingly on track for the kind of life their parents consider desirable. Sigrid didn’t graduate from high school, works a dead-end job, and has had a succession of failed relationships with women. She’s still obsessing over a best friend from her teen years who got caught up in the opioid crisis. Austin’s narrative is told first from Sigrid’s perspective through a series of diary entries framed as draft suicide notes. The focus then shifts to Margit who’s now struggling to cope with the aftermath of her sister’s failed suicide attempt. The final sections return us to Sigrid and a series of plot twists and revelations that reframe her story in entirely unexpected ways. Austin is a more than decent writer, there are numerous excellent passages filled with arresting images yet I found the story immensely difficult to engage with. It felt quite rambling at times, and I’m not convinced that the gravity of Sigrid’s mental state was communicated as effectively as it might have been – I was surprised by how unmoved I was by her situation and/or the scenario in general. But, then again, I’m not a huge fan of fiction that revolves around personal relationships so it’s very possible I just wasn’t the right fit for this one.

Thanks to Edelweiss and publisher Simon and Schuster for an ARC

[lexluvsb00ks · Rating 5 out of 5]

one of my favorite reads of the year, and ever. i cried i laughed my heart burned and it ached and grew two sizes. i love you emily austin

[liv ❁ · Rating 4 out of 5]

“If I could have picked what I was born to be, I would be a fat little rat at a fair. I would ride the Ferris wheel all night. All the carnival lights would reflect in my happy, beady eyes. I would feast on candy apple cores, discarded peanuts, and melon rinds. I would spook the ladies and carnival workers for kicks. When the lights went out, and the gates were shut, I would scurry around on the ground, rummage through the trash cans, and squeak happily with my rat pals. I would live to be about two years old, which is as long as most rats live. I would get my money’s worth out of my little rat lifespan, and I would leave the earth happy to have been there.”

Well, Emily Austin has done it again. She has reminded me that, even though we may totally feel isolated and alienated or like we’re from a completely different planet and no one will ever understand us, there will always be a writer that creates characters that are so painfully relatable in so many ways that there is no way that that can be true. And that is one of the most important things that literature shows me.

We Could Be Rats is depressing and a bit triggering (I mean it’s literally told through rough drafts of suicide notes and various other journal entries around that time so) and it is so layered. Emily Austin does something quite genius here in the way she writes this that I don’t think I will appreciate fully unless I read it, but it showcased the differences and dichotomy between the two sisters in a way that made me chest ache.

“Rather than feel like a powerless baby bird, I chose to believe, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that I was invulnerable and capable of anything. You saw us as flightless baby birds, didn’t you?”

Seeing the differences between how their volatile childhoods affected Margrit and Sigrid long term was the core of this book. And it was so well done. Maybe it’s because I could very easily slip back into a place very similar to their own, but I felt a very strong kinship to both sisters. That being said, I think I need to reread this because I went in expecting it to be more of a story and it was very much more of a vibe, so I don’t think I’ve fully processed the depth of what I read. Part of me wishes that there was more connection in the end, but the story is told as journal entries and, in maybe a selfish way, part of me also really does appreciate how realistically that was shown and how well Austin portrayed how damaging it can be to not really have anyone to lean on/who understands/who you can even say you survived it with because you’re borderline no contact with the only other person that survived that.

There’s not much more to say because so much of the story just needs to be discovered through reading it, and it really isn’t that much of a story. But it is a powerful read that had me on the verge of tears the whole time and Austin does such an incredible job with her characters.

[Jillian B · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sigrid, barely out of her teens and working at a small-town dollar store, is penning her suicide note. She writes that she is not depressed—in fact, she’s quite happy—but there is a deeper reason underlying her decision. And to reveal it, she’ll first have to talk about her childhood and her relationships with her girlfriend, family, and best friend.

I loved this book. The writing was both literary and laugh-out-loud funny, so I wasn’t expecting much in the way of plot. But there is in fact a big twist that made my jaw drop. Sigrid and another prominent character, her sister Margit, could not be more different and yet each one of them is so relatable and likeable. This was my first Emily Austin and now, a week later, I’ve already read another of her books because I am addicted to her writing! And as a Canadian, I honestly feel like she is the best thing to happen to CanLit since Margaret Atwood. Instant “I will read anything she writes” status!

[Tanja · Rating 5 out of 5]

The only bad thing about Emily Austin books is that they end

[Maren’s Reads · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am endlessly impressed with Emily Austin’s ability to present the deeper and more emotional issues in life, in such a charming, humorous way. I do, however, think it’s important to go into this book while in a semi-good headspace.

A very thoughtful discourse on the difficulty of navigating young adulthood and the importance of being your authentic self, it is heartbreaking at times, and ultimately very sad, even while being ultimately hopeful and uplifting. One aspect that touched me deeply is the examination of just how profound the nature of friendship is, and the deep grief that accompanies the loss of that friendship.

🎧 I think this story is best told on audio, narrated by Candace Thaxton who so perfectly nails Austin’s juxtaposition between the maudlin and merriment. And at only 5+ hours, you’ll literally fly through it, all the better for having pondered some of life’s hardest-hitting issues.

CW: There are quite a few triggers including cancer, abuse, drug addiction, and attempted suicide. Please check full trigger list before reading if you are sensitive to them.

Read if you like:
▪️family drama
▪️emotional reads
▪️books that make you think
▪️gripping twists
▪️unique writing
▪️epistolary format

Thank you Atria for the gifted copies.

[liv ❁]

forever grateful for Emily Austin and her rat-identifying lesbian representation
alternatively: title of my autobiography

[Summer · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is my first read by Emily R. Austen so I didn't know what to expect going in.

It took me a bit to get into this one but once I did I was pleasantly surprised. We Could be Rats is a character-centered work centered around female relationships. The main characters are likable and relatable in their own quirky ways. The book is an emotional rollercoaster ride that had me laughing in some parts and crying in others. I liked the surprise twist and the ending had me in tears.

This short and fast read carries a powerful punch. Even though this book is laugh out loud hilarious as times, it covers some heavy topics. Toxic home lives, child abuse, trauma, addiction, suicide, and poverty to name a few.

We Could Be Rats by Emily R. Austen is such a creative and original work written in a unique style that I believe a lot of readers will enjoy.

I listened to the audiobook version which is narrated by Candace Thaxton who did an incredible job. If you decide to pick this one up, I highly recommend this format!

We Could Be Rats by Emily R. Austen will be available on January 28. Many thanks to Simon Audio for the gifted audiobook!

[Amy Biggart · Rating 4 out of 5]

emily austin writes about existential dread and hopelessness in a way that makes people feel seen and less alone, and for that she should win an Oscar

[Srivalli (Semi-Hiatus) · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 Stars

One Liner: Oh, well! We tried!

Sigrid seems to be living a disappointing life if you ask others. After all, she works at Dollar Pal, didn’t graduate, and doesn’t have ambitions or goals like her sister Margit. However, Sigrid has something else to say, and say, she does, when she decides to talk about it. From being a young girl with a vivid imagination and roaming around with her bestie, Greta, Sigrid’s life takes a turn into something others don’t understand.

When Margit finally tries to know who her sister is, will it help bridge the ever-widening gap between them?

The story is divided into three parts (and all are written in the first person).

My Thoughts:

I picked this for the May-June GR challenge because of the title. Not that I like rats, but I’m a curious cat. I wanted to know what the rats represented.

The book starts with a note warning about su*cide. This is not a spoiler since it’s on the very first page. Of course, the book has other triggers (substance abuse, domestic violence, homophobia, rape…).

The writing style can make or break the book. For me, the first half worked well for the topic. The tone is cynical yet hopeful, dry yet affectionate, and humorous yet tinged with pain. Yes, it looks like the character is trying too hard because that’s how it is supposed to be.

Since it’s a long, long letter, there are very few dialogues, and it presents a collection of past events in random order. Think of it as trying to catch colorful balls flung at you from different directions.

Yet, it gives you a very surface-level vibe. I marked it as YA as I thought that was what it was. Turns out, this is adult fiction. The characters are 20-21, so technically it is NA. That should explain why the later sections tanked for me.

While it deals with a lot of sociopolitical issues from the region (Canada, apparently; I thought it was the US), it doesn’t provide much context. I may agree with some of it (not gonna support substance abuse), but it’s hard when there is no effort made to show why I should. It doesn’t have to be a lecture, but it shouldn’t be limited to a checklist that would make certain readers happy. It’s like saying, ‘you know how it is, so do your thing and take my side’. Nah, that’s not how it works. Not with me, at least.

After 50%, there’s a huge reveal, followed by the second section. This is okay, despite the surreal vibe, as if you are watching someone spiral but have no idea about what to do or if you should even do anything!

The last quarter has been the weakest for me. If you like this section more, you will likely hate the first half. It feels like a repetition of the same events in a different style. Unfortunately, it doesn’t tell you anything extra. In fact, I lost interest when the narrative turned into a ‘I’m ignorant but I have to be an activist’ whine on the loop. There’s only so much of that one can read!

The ending… now, here’s the thing. I’m writing the review less than 24 hours after finishing the book. I know it ended abruptly, but I can’t tell you exactly how. I don’t remember! It’s as if the ending didn’t register in my mind for me to remember the details. That should tell you something.

And oh, the sisterhood part, which was supposed to be important? It got lost somewhere. Unless I missed something profound (which I doubt), it just wasn't as prominent as the blurb promised it would be.

To summarize, We Could Be Rats has an interesting premise and touches heavy themes, but manages to stay on the surface throughout. It has its moments, even if it falters as a package.

[Chantel · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters that contain reflections on self-harm, suicidal ideations, attempted suicide, grief, physical abuse, parental abuse, rape, bigotry, xenophobia, substance abuse, & others.

The scene opens with an untruth; the narrator’s cause is made clear yet the tone shifts with delayed wit & muddy watered honesty lending shade to a darkness clear as sunshine. Such is the way of the author. By this time, you will have seen my name associated with two previous reviews depicting issues & adoration with Austin as a creative & writer. I would not begrudge your curiosity & harsh judgment upon seeing it for a third time. When I saw that Austin had written another novel, I was apprehensive to lend my enthusiasm to the crowd; we had not grown beloved of each other as I found redundancy in her quirks yet, here we stand again, familiar strangers in the literary world.

I find Austin’s work curious. At once, the books she writes offer readers from an array of levels, & who hold certain preferences, the opportunities to explore something different without requiring them to expound effort into understanding her stories. The characters she crafts are fraternal twins, each one nearly identical to the other except when it comes to the minute details that add background to the otherwise redundant plot lines. Yet, I wonder if this is intentional.

Certain authors pleasure their talents by toying with the utter strangeness of the unknown character. The story they pen wedges into the psyche in the wee hours of neutrality. Austin seems intent on offering readers the opposite experience; I cannot fault her for this.

In creating a world where each character is all the more disadvantaged due to their misbehaviour, Austin allows readers the opportunity to adopt the role of the harsh critic. Indeed, my role here is mute as the cymbals have chimed sonorously & what I will write may seem altogether repetitive though, as a promise for the book, & out of profoundly personal necessity, I write this anyway.

In essence, this is a story about a pair of sisters in their early twenties who confront the seething effects of their toxic family dynamic. The story opens with Sigrid who is attempting to write her suicide note & soon divulges into the dual inky goo of Margit, who goes over Sigrid’s original entry in a bid to make it more palatable for their parents.

The flow of this story is quite the opposite of seamless. Rather than peruse a story that sees the characters become transparent versions of themselves while they shed their human fallacies; Austin’s narrator—the tormented & bemused Sigrid—tries desperately to shadow herself from the truth & in turn, hopes that her last punctuation mark will prevent readers from seeing any honesty in her words.

When I started reading this book, I was hopeful. The feeling is a result of enjoying the clear & pointed flow of Austin’s work without necessarily appreciating the overtly chronically online personality that makes up her main characters. Certainly, this is a subjective opinion & the reason why I find myself so conflicted with my feelings. At surface value, Sigrid & Margit are a pair worth reading about & a sister duo who resemble many a family dynamic. Yet, their overt need to subdue the truth via meme-formatted humour leaves this story squarely on the sidelines as soon-to-be Classics take their place.

Is it wrong to appreciate a book that will not stand the test of time? While making my way through the first section of this story I wondered how many readers would be able to appreciate the deep-rooted need that both sisters had to masquerade as something else; leaving them sheltered from the emotional & physical horror that prospered around them.

While recent years have proved to be the Millennial playground, shedding light on better ways of communicating, smoother formats for connecting with others, & overall experiences that highlight the human ability to function in empathy; the generational divide remains stark & not all who claim torment have been traumatized.

The wiggling worm of truth slithers in the bind of the tale at hand. Sigrid has been left to feel utterly worthless at the young age at which we find her in her letters. The early twenties in the life & times of most people are not a time when a person has their life, all figured out. In fact, most people are just beginning to experience what it means to live in the real world & their twenties are the decade during which their rose-coloured glasses are shelved, seldom to be worn again. Amid these crowds of joyous over-eager onlookers, one finds people like Sigrid & Margit.

Categorically, the sisters are trying their best to live in a world that has been made clear to them; a world that they know too well to be surprised to see during a Christmas dinner; a world in which their deranged, angry parents have lived & prospered. It is not surprising that they should wonder how on earth they are meant to find their place among others who do not seem to see the pain inflicted on them by their caretakers—their parents—& in which others are burdened by simple household Commandments.

If readers pause, they will be given more of an opportunity to truly appreciate what I have written. Sigrid boasts about a happy life because who wouldn’t be happy with a nuclear family & all the opportunities in the world of Middle-Class Canada? The breaks between recollections—which the reader will later note have been penned by Margit—speak more clearly of what Sigrid is trying to stifle. The quirky jokes & misplaced squawks become blurred in the periphery of the bleary-eyed sadness looking at the reader through Sigrid’s handwritten notes when the reader takes the time to look up.

Though I will not be among the crowd of toe-sucking admirers once this book’s pages heat with the print, I readily admit the value & importance of the plot. Whereas it seems that the snow-covered fields reveal a tundra; suicidal ideations are not as common as one may choose to believe. It is imperative that readers learn to appreciate the catastrophically morbid experience that Sigrid is grappling with as she introduces herself to the reader. As she pretends that her life isn’t all bad, rather as she claims that her memories silhouette a beautiful flowery life; Grey Gardens sprinkle their paws around her being, burying her alive.

What is a reader meant to deduce from this book? I have experience in this field, we shall leave it at that. Suffice it to say that I would not wish this reality on anyone—no one at all. The people I know who experience this reality, no matter the spectrum of experiences that contributed to a malady invisible to them save when they look in the mirror, would not wish this on anyone either.

With Austin’s care, Sigrid’s pain flows over the words she masquerades as truth. Perhaps a reader who is experienced or one who has lived enough years on earth to muster empathy & patience will see the characters for who they truly are; sickeningly terrified children in adult bodies.

I highlight a shared sentiment in the paragraph above because it is easy to forget that people who experience suicidal ideations & those who advance on attempted suicide are not living the same experiences as others. It remains nearly impossible to truly transfer the weight of emotions & experiences to another person; some among us feel it easier to simply stop trying & leave this realm altogether. We are lesser as a whole in their absence.

While Sigrid writes in sloppy penmanship & hopes to correct the tract of a life where she feels she is the failure her parents made her out to be, her sister, Margit, suffers a pain all too familiar to me. What I hope readers will appreciate about this book is the woven relationship that exists as a consequence of being alive. It pained me to close the book as I read it; I wanted so badly to whisper kindness & promises that the world was not, in its entirety, identical to the sister’s domestic upbringing. The reader is in the impossible position of watching someone drown in water set warmly by their very own parents.

Behind the scenes of this letter is the truth. Early on readers will note the shift from Sigrid to Margit as revisions to the original content happen directly under their noses. The childhood that the characters experienced is wrought with fear, violence, substance abuse, bigotry, ignorance, & isolation.

Though I will not ravish the somewhat tedious humour that is used as a crutch by the characters, its inclusion in this story felt authentic & true. It is no secret that humour is used, quite actively by many, as a coping mechanism. To watch the slow-moving story of sadness divert from what is tormenting the narrator in an attempt to appease the faceless reader, allowed this story to become more than what it was.

Readers have the opportunity to take their time consuming & digesting this book. The appearance of antagonists in sheep’s clothing & apprehensively mystical allies, sees the plot welcome the page-turning fingers of strangers into the world of small-town Canada, a place that could be anywhere familiar to anyone.

The downward spiral of Sigrid’s best friend following years of societal disregard & a suffocating experience at the hands of a blasphemous man; the ignorant haven of extended family; & the passing of love; Sigrid’s life will be all too familiar to many readers & for this reason, they may find some semblance of comfort in her goose-chase down memory lane.

Ultimately, this is not a bad book. It is not one I would have had recommended to me but, I am glad to have read it. I’m certain to run into Austin again as we covet the space where words meet in rash-staining-haste. Her ideas of a literary world where her convenient internet personality may flourish on the page draw me to her work in a way that cannot be replicated as it feels quaintly & devilishly authentic to her quiet moments.

The stylistic choice of this story will not make it a daring Classic among Titans but, it will allow the reader in mind to materialize between the shelves, seeking the one book that will allow them the privacy & pleasure of a laugh amid sorrow.

For those who may find the subject matter altogether derogatory & unsavoury, I wish for you the malevolence of God’s full attention. Perhaps, He will be more forgiving as we march through a world of His own creation where neighbours, strangers, friends, & family, render the shape of the globe concave with nightmares, each more ghoulish than the next.

There is no laughing matter to be had in the onyx of a mind plagued by one’s inner voice; may the whispers of a rose sooth softness into the crevices where despair can be left to rot, for those who ponder the possibility of an end of their road.

Thank you to Edelweiss+, Atria Books, & Emily Austin for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!

[cady · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was by far my most anticipated new release of 2025, and it didn’t disappoint.

I read many wonderful books last year, but if you made me pick my favorite, I would say it was Emily Austin's first book, Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead. That book gnawed its way inside my brain and still lives there. Never have I felt so seen. So this book, while highly anticipated, also had massive shoes to fill.

We Could Be Rats was my third Emily Austin novel, and like Interesting Facts About Space, it doesn't quite reach the same heights as Everyone In This Room Will Someday Be Dead for me, but it does come very close. What makes Emily Austin's writing so special, in my opinion, is her profound ability to write about mental health struggles in a way that is both honest, with the full weight the subject deserves, and also hopeful, with a sense of optimism that could feel trite or patronizing in less capable hands, but instead feels healing in hers. She has this way of picking out small moments in her characters' lives (like a father only having two photos on his phone, one of a tool he wanted to buy and the other of his daughter in the prom dress he and his wife couldn't really afford for her but maxed out a credit card to buy anyway) and examining them with such careful emotional intelligence. It works because these are the sort of moments that we encounter in our own lives every day, and her way of writing makes me want to pay closer attention to them in my own. There's no higher compliment I can pay a writer than to say they've changed the way I think or that they've made me feel seen, and Emily Austin does both.

If I had one complaint, it’s that I honestly think this book could have been longer. We spend too little time with Sigrid, the protagonist, telling her story in her own words. The twenty-some attempts at the revisions of the note that make up the first section of the book felt a little overlong, and after finishing it, I wished more of that page space had been devoted to either Sigrid or Margit's narrative if it was going to be as short as it was. But that's a minor gripe, and honestly, I could have worse complaints than saying that I wish a book had more pages for me to read.

This is a book for America in 2025, especially in the way Sigrid navigates her family's politics and the way her parents' opinions cause her severe harm even though her parents think very little of them. It's a very compassionate, nuanced look at small town, conservative America and the families that live there without ever being dishonest about the harm the policies and politicians these towns support can cause. As a queer person from a similar town and similar family, it was cathartic to read. There's no tidy resolution at the end, but there is that glimmer of hope that Emily Austin does so well.

4.5 stars, rounded up because it still moved me emotionally in a way few books can. Whatever Emily Austin writes next, I'll be there.

[Patricija || book.duo · Rating 5 out of 5]

5/5

Labai mėgstu Austin knygas. Patinka, kokios jos šiltos, keistos, jaukios, skaudžios – po vienu skėčiu telpa tiek daug labai žmogiškų, nedramatizuotų, bet dažnai labai labai jautrių ir net ašarą spaudžiančių emocijų. Austin veikėjos visos gana panašios – jos keistokos, dažniausiai vienišės, turinčios gerą humoro jausmą ir norinčios, kad visiems būtų gerai, bet prisidirbančios ir dar kitiems pridirbančios. Klystančios ir kartais kvailai besielgiančios, bet tokios, kurias norisi apkabinti. Ir turbūt Austin niekada nepasieks tokio populiarumo kaip Eleonora Olifant, bet sulyginimas būtų tikslus – jos veikėjos labai nuoširdžiai ir nepritemptai (kur kas nepritempčiau, nei Eleonora) keistos. Ir man tas žiauriai gerai veikia.

Gerai veikia ir tai, kad Austin geba nustebinti, kad neįmanoma nesirūpinti jos veikėjomis ir tuo, kaip kas bus. Čia posūkis buvo netikėtas ir aiktelėti verčiantis, bet toks jautrus, toks tikras. Ir neabejoju, kad visiems, kurie atpažįsta žmones iš žingsnių (spoiler alert: nelabai normalu tai galėti, ypač kai esi vaikas), kurie slėpėsi rūsyje ar savo kambaryje, kurie pergyveno dėl rėkiančių kaimynų, kurie nežinojo kaip padėti klykiantiem ant vienas kito tėvam, kurie tiki, kad kitiems būtinai sekasi daug geriau nei pačiam ir netiki, kad tai – labai toli nuo tiesos, knyga tikrai gali patikti ir surezonuoti.

[dessie*₊⊹ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Emily Austin’s grasp on my psyche should be studied. Good God.
This book is comforting, confusing, a mirror for me to squint at. ‘We could be rats’ is really the only thing that’s engaged me emotionally since my cat died last month and I turned into this weird numb husk.
It was sadder than the other books I’ve loved by this author. It likely won’t be my favorite Emily Austin book in the long run, but it was effective and memorable for me. Missing the way the world was when you were young does hurt, but the sky is still pink sometimes. I’m grateful to have gotten the arc, thank you Atria Books.

[Marcus (Lit_Laugh_Luv) · Rating 2 out of 5]

[2.5 stars] I was quite excited for this release and while it wasn’t necessarily disappointing, it was just a LOT heavier than I typically associate with Austin’s writing. That’s not a critique on her or the book, just a case of my own mismanaged expectations going in. From the premise it’s clear the book deals heavily with suicide, but as a heads up it also touches on addiction, rape, homophobia, and domestic violence. The book includes Austin’s quintessential wit and humour, but doesn’t shy away from some explicit heavier topics that her previous releases only touch on briefly.

The novel is structured in an epistolary format where Sigrid recounts her life in drafts of her suicide letter, which grew repetitive. By design, she rewrites a lot of the same themes or ideas and so you get several similar anecdotes about her child, relationship with her best friend and sister, and her increasing disenchantment with her small town. I liked the themes, but reading so many similar stories about her childhood and fear of growing up got a bit grating. Hearing everything retrospectively creates a detachment between Sigrid and the reader, and I never quite warmed up to her.

Around halfway through there’s a big narrative shift, and the second part of the book worked much better for me. It felt more personal and less detached, which makes sense given the context as to which it arises. I liked the secondary characters more than Sigrid and appreciated the roles they played in the narrative of her life. It feels like a very timely book in the political and social commentary it makes.

We Could Be Rats is not a bad book by any means; if you’ve enjoyed Emily Austin before, I think you could still enjoy this! The writing is solid and the narrative is well executed. With that said, it was heavier than expected for me but also presented in a manner that aligns more with young adult fiction. It’s hard to identify the target audience because the tone and subject matter don’t feel in alignment.

Thank you to Simon and Schuster Canada for the cute little PR package which included this gem!

[claud · Rating 5 out of 5]

as is the drill with every emily austin book, we could be rats made me bawl my stupid little eyeballs out at 3am. i should’ve expected it, really.

the thing about emily austin is that she makes me feel so seen. she sees the darkest most awful thoughts in my head, but also comforts them and makes me feel less alone, less horrible. her writing is unbearably honest and raw. instead of running from or avoiding the dreadful thoughts depression can create, emily highlights them and makes you feel a little less monstrous for having them. as her characters grow and find hope, you feel like you might have hope, too.

we could be rats is a love letter to childhood innocence, a story of being queer in a place that doesn’t want you to exist, and an unflinching representation of depression and suicidal thoughts. if you’ve ever experienced suicidal ideation, felt suffocated by growing up a lesbian in a small town, wished you could live in a bubble of childhood happiness, or even just used ibs as an excuse to get out of something, you will find yourself in this book.

(thank you so much to emma for sending me your extra arc from atria books. i’m eternally grateful and if you ever need a kidney you’re welcome to one of mine)

[Violet · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love a quirky book & We Could Be Rats is definitely quirky. This one is heavy but also managed to make me laugh several times throughout. I loved the little twist in the middle and how raw it all felt.

•Mental health
•Quick read (256 pages)

"Everyone needs someone who understands and believes in them. Having even one person who really gets you and likes you feels sort of vital for survival."


3.5 stars

[mali · Rating 2 out of 5]

quite disappointed by this one, i expected the same laugh out loud, quirky yet relatable characters that emily austin is known for but this was too heavy in tone, i didn’t like the letter format and both sigrid and margit got on my nerves (also what the fuck type of name is margit). sigrid’s over active imagination and immaturity was really annoying and it got really repetitive after a while. the second half got a tad better but this felt like a chore to get through…i will be pretending like emily austin didn’t write this one 😭

[Jodi · Rating 3 out of 5]

Well, I really don’t know what to write. This is an unusual novel. After thinking about it the last couple days, I’ve lowered my rating to 3-stars. I mean, the book covers some very heavy subject matter—suicide, drug addiction, sexual assault, and more. Yet it’s so darned funny!! And it doesn’t always make a ton of sense. It seems obvious this woman is seriously depressed but she can’t see her situation ever getting better. She believes there’s only ONE, very final way out. Now, she apparently didn’t finish high school but, still… Her way of thinking struck me as strange because, these days there are so many options for those with mental health challenges, right? At one point, I actually wondered if this was really a novel?!! It crossed my mind to ask “Is the author reaching out for help?”🤔 I don’t know.🤷‍♀️

Anyway, it’s a very funny story—we get to know her friends and family members and, eventually, things seem to be on the road to resolution—but I can’t say I’d recommend it. Austin has written several novels, and her last three seem to have been quite well-received. I have all three of them, but I’ve read only this one. And to be completely honest, it’s unlikely I’ll read the others.

So, to the character in this story, and to others IRL who feel the same way, I just want to say…

“Now–is–not–forever” 3-stars ⭐⭐⭐

[Ange ⚕ angethology · Rating 1 out of 5]

[1.5 stars] I've never been so unmoved and unimpressed by a book that explores suicide and depression. Thought this would be such a meaningful, or cute book for me I can resonate with as I have a sister myself where we often call each other a rat as a joke. In the first half, the novel is divided into chapters labeled as a final letter attempt by Sigrid, each one taking a trip down memory lane in hopes of finding the perfect letter to leave behind — a letter that leaves traces of sunshine behind, yet Sigrid can't help but manages to cloud it with dark memories every time.

In theory, this sounds like a unique concept, even more so when a twist is revealed in the second half from the perspective of Sigrid's sister, Margit. But this ends up feeling like a teenager's whiny diary who's on their first venture into writing. And although some of the issues that Sigrid faces, such as addiction, feeling inadequate compared to their sibling, and homophobia, are all common issues that the average person can at least relate to, the morsel of sympathy I had slowly depleted like a deflating balloon as I make my way through the book.

It feels entirely self-indulgent and, worst of all, because of how much backtracking there is, the first half is utterly meaningless. [Beware for spoilers from now on] You can't end every chapter with "lol nvm I lied," every single time and justify it using an unreliable narrator, it's just half a step away from the fav middle school writing exercise ".. and then she woke up." I can absolutely empathize with someone going through depression, suicidal ideation, abusive family dynamics etc — but to act like those are "technically a kind of cancer or aneurysm, but metaphorically," is so .. cringe-worthy. And the constant rhetorical validation and questioning like, "How about you? How are you feeling? Are you sad because I'm dead?" is actually exhausting to read, what in the wattpad writing.

I don't need characters like Sigrid to be a "perfect victim"; being unlikeable is one thing, and something I can appreciate in fiction. But employing this narrative technique for further exposition every time feels extremely lazy and uncreative. I don't feel anything after reading this book except annoyance, I don't see the siblings' multilayered, complex relationship the way the author intended. Instead, it feels emotionally manipulative. The author is basically telling me exactly how to feel, as opposed to trying to tug at my heartstrings using well thought-out language and background, and I'm not the type to not get emotional with these types of stories. It would make more sense if this was marketed as a YA book, but even then I think it's still poorly written.

Super surprised at the positive reviews here, but oh well. I do have one favorite quote that is super adorable: "I used to joke, "I wish we were rats" because, if i could choose how the world worked, we would all be rats at a fair .. We would roll around in garbage and suck on our sour keys."

[Cassidy · Rating 4 out of 5]

“If I could have picked what I was born to be, I would be a fat little rat at a fair. I would ride the Ferris wheel all night. All the carnival lights would reflect in my happy, beady eyes. […] I would get my money’s worth out of my little rat lifespan, and I would leave the earth happy to have been there.”

I was drawn to this book immediately when I saw the cover. This is the first novel I’ve read by this author, but certainly won’t be my last. We Could Be Rats is a character-driven novel that follows FMC Sigrid, a twenty year old girl who’s extremely lost. The story unfolds in a series of notes (suicide notes), as Sigrid attempts to untangle her final thoughts before she plans to kill herself. Later in the story we get the perspective of her sister, Margit, who always had a bit of a tumultuous relationship with Sigrid growing up.

I think people are either going to love this or hate this; luckily for me I fall more into the love category. The writing style is sooo interesting and really spoke to me. I don’t usually like epistolary format, but I thought this worked so well and does a great job of telling the story. It’s messy, chaotic, rambling, whimsical, and endearing. You feel like you’re right in Sigrid and Margit’s heads. For such interesting and complex characters, I really appreciated the blatant distinction in voice between both girls’ perspectives. It’s a little bit coming-of-age, little bit dealing with all different sorts of grief and childhood trauma, little bit of healing and sister’s finding common ground for the first time in their lives. I absolutely adored Sigrid and was really rooting for her. The most fabulous (and unreliable) narrator.

Definitely check the trigger warnings! But I will say it has an overall light-hearted tone, despite all the heavy topics in here.

“I think it is important to tell people off sometimes, and to do things that make you feel happy- like go swimming.”

Thank you to Netgalley, Emily Austin, and Atria Books for providing this book for review consideration. All opinions are my own.

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts/attempt, drug abuse/addiction, mental illness, grief, domestic abuse, emotional (child) abuse, alcohol, rape, death of parent, animal cruelty (brief mention)

[jocelyn • coolgalreading · Rating 4 out of 5]

i read this in one sitting. maybe more of a 4.5. review to come soon. thanks to simon and schuster for my gifted copy 🫶🏻