As far as I can tell, The Year Without Michael is the very last book I ever started and didn’t finish. I first picked it up around 25 years ago, when I was 14, and it simply didn’t grab me. It didn’t help that it was a copy my mother had borrowed from her boss, and I never finished it before it had to be returned.
Reading it now, at 39 and as a first-time dad, it lands very differently.
The novel is told from the perspective of Jody, the oldest sister in a family trying to survive a year after the disappearance of her brother, Michael. Rather than focusing on mystery or answers, the story is about aftermath, how a family lives in the long, unresolved space left behind when someone simply vanishes.
One of the book’s greatest strengths is how accurately it captures the ways families fracture after the death or disappearance of a child. Everyone grieves differently. Everyone processes loss differently. At various points, you can look at nearly any character’s actions and feel tempted to blame them, judge them, or look down on them, only to realize those choices are born from grief, anger, fear, or exhaustion. The novel never lets you forget that these reactions are human, even when they’re messy or uncomfortable.
The story wrestles with difficult, honest questions: In the search for closure, is it wrong to wish for certainty even if that certainty comes in the form of death? Can hope and desperation coexist? Can you want someone to come home while also wanting the pain of not knowing to finally end? These contradictions aren’t just themes; they’re lived experiences for every member of the family, each in their own way.
Ultimately, The Year Without Michael is a raw, compassionate exploration of absence, of how much more space a missing person can take up than they ever did when they were present. It’s about what’s left behind, and how loss reshapes relationships, priorities, and identities over time.
This is a worthwhile read, but not a light one. It’s emotionally honest, quietly devastating, and far more powerful than I was able to appreciate all those years ago.