From Melissa Febos, the national bestselling author of Girlhood, comes an examination of the solitude, freedoms, and feminist heroes she discovered during a year of celibacy and a wise and transformative look at relationships and self-knowledge.
“Only Melissa Febos could convince us of the ecstasy of abstinence. She never fails in her candor and precision.”—Katherine May, author of Wintering
In the wake of a catastrophic two-year relationship, Melissa Febos decided to take a For three months she would abstain from dating, relationships, and sex. Her friends were amused. Did she really think three months was a long time? But to Febos, it was. Ever since her teens, she had been in one relationship after another with men and women. As she puts it, she could trace a “daisy chain of romances” from her adolescence to her midthirties. Finally, she would carve out time to focus on herself and examine the patterns that had produced her midlife disaster. Over those first few months, she gleaned insights into her past and awoke to the joys of being single. She decided to extend her celibacy, not knowing it would become the most fulfilling and sensual year of her life. No longer defined by her romantic pursuits, she learned to relish the delights of solitude, the thrill of living on her own terms, the distinct pleasures unmediated by lovers, and the freedom to pursue her ideals without distraction or guilt. Bringing her own experiences into conversation with those of women throughout history—from eleventh-century mystic Hildegard von Bingen, Virginia Woolf, and Octavia Butler to the Shakers and Sappho—Febos situates her story within a newfound lineage of role models who unapologetically pursued their ambitions and ideals.
By abstaining from all forms of romantic entanglement, Febos began to see her life and her self-worth in a radical, new way. Her year of divestment transformed her relationships with friends and peers, her spirituality, her creative practice, and, most of all, her relationship to herself. Blending intimate personal narrative and incisive cultural criticism, The Dry Season tells a story that’s as much about celibacy as its pleasure, desire, fulfillment. Infused with fearless honesty and keen intellect, it’s the memoir of a woman learning to live at the center of her own story, and a much-needed catalyst for a new conversation around sex and love.
Melissa Febos is the national bestselling author of five books, including Whip Smart, Abandon Me, Girlhood—which won the National Book Critics Circle Award in Criticism, and Body Work: The Radical Power of Personal Narrative. Her memoir, The Dry Season, is forthcoming on June 3, 2025 from Alfred A. Knopf. Her awards and fellowships include those from the Guggenheim Foundation, LAMBDA Literary, the National Endowment for the Arts, Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, The British Library, The Black Mountain Institute, MacDowell, the Bogliasco Foundation, The Barbara Deming Foundation, Vermont Studio Center, Virginia Center for Creative Arts, The American Library in Paris, and others. Her work has appeared in The Paris Review, The New Yorker, The Sun, The New York Times Magazine, The Best American Essays, Vogue, and New York Review of Books. Febos is a full professor at the University of Iowa and lives in Iowa City with her wife, the poet Donika Kelly.
Former heroin addict, dominatrix, love-addict turned happily lesbian married English professor tells all about her year without sex! Written with a religious fervor towards God as a creative life force giving entity and devotion to art making, Febos makes a case for how the aspiration for love as a central component to women’s lives having meaning is crippling, and something she needed to interrogate and divest herself from as thoroughly as she needed to detox and get sober. I found a lot of this book kind of meandering and unsatisfying, particularly in the moments that weren’t grounded in her recollecting her own experiences. But maybe that’s because I despise the concrete forms of religion articulated as key elements of her healing journey here; also because I find that when writers write about writing, it can be incredibly tiresome and empty feeling. I’ve enjoyed other memoirs more than this and got more out of them than what I got from this title. What comes to mind as other more decent releases include Sarah Chihaya’s Bibliophobia, Herron Walker’s Aggravated Discontent, and of course, the reigning queen Rachel Kushner’s The Hard Crowd. Nonetheless, The Dry Season portrays a very queer and very feminist approach to love, sex, and life, and it is at times beautifully expressed and documented, which I always appreciate.
This is one of those books where I have two different ratings that are getting averaged out. I found the memoir pieces of this to be a 4 star read, but they keep getting interrupted by the more nonfiction-y pieces, which did not interest me much.
Febos presents us with her season of celibacy for unusual reasons. She is starting to wonder if the way she approaches romantic relationships is unhealthy, and because sexual tension is so much of what tends to draw her in, she chooses celibacy as a way to make sure she will stay single. It is really the single-ness that Febos wants to explore, the celibacy is just the clear and simple line to draw, the thing that will make sure she can't just accidentally flirt her way into something. I enjoyed following her through the consideration, the decision, and the period of evaluation that follows. She is able to examine much more clearly her present desires but also her previous pattern of behavior. (The book takes place several years ago, thankfully we have a good amount of distance from the present. And it shows.)
But all the research bored me quite quickly. There was not always a lot of resonance to Febos' situation. Especially through the lens of celibacy, since the historical precedents have so little to do with Febos. She is a queer woman who almost entirely dates and sleeps with women. For women of the past, celibacy was a way to avoid an entire way of life, a way to escape an enforced patriarchy, a way out of a world without physical autonomy. The Beguines are nice and all but it does not feel like there is much they have in common with Febos.
Febos's insightful prose and thoughtfulness are on full display here as always. I love her writing and I love her ability to look critically at herself and her life. "Ugh, the pain of being ordinarily terrible,," she writes after discovering she has a pattern of people-pleasing and using lovers. But I didn't like this book as much as Girlhood or Abandon Me, and it's mostly because of some poor marketing that coloured my expectations.
Most of The Dry Season is about why Febos needed to be celibate, ie about her history of toxic and otherwise harmful relationships, not about other types of pleasure she discovered while celibate. I don't have a problem with this focus, I found it compelling most of the time, but it wasn't the book the subtitle -- "a memoir of pleasure in a year without sex" promised it would be.
Alsio, while the histories of celibate women throughout history were interesting, the vast majority of them didn't choose celibacy for reasons even remotely connected to Febos and her situation. This made the book felt a bit disjointed.
I'll also say I think it's a missed opportunity for a queer allosexual writer investigating celibacy and what time and space it affords you for art, work, hobbies, solitude, self-actualization, and more to not discuss asexuality and aromanticism or talk to ace/aro artists and writers about their experiences.
I'm a very big fan of choosing to be celibate for personal reasons and I think it is a topic that needs to be discussed more openly because there are so many reasons why it is beneficial. So, needless to say, seeing this book on libro.fm as an arc had me very excited; I was quite literally sold from the title. I'll start with the good, because this because this book will have a lot of value for a lot of people and I really do want to encourage people to read it if it sounds up their alley.
The Dry Season is a reflection as to why Febos decided to become celibate for a year. She very intimately describes her past relationships and the way her value was attached to people finding her attractive and wanting to be with her and analyzes and picks out exactly why her behavior has been unhealthy and why she had to make a drastic change. Her cage and inability to become free without a temporary clean cut is apparent, she is self-aware and straightforward and painted a picture for her way forward, her path to freedom. Her reflections on the past and what led to her deciding to be celibate are the vast majority of the book and I found them very interesting, and painfully relatable to parts of my past.
In regards to celibacy, it is clear she did so much research with so much love and care. She has a few groups of celibate people, mainly women, that she really hones in on that gave a really cool historical perspective for celibacy which I found interesting especially since she is very upfront about how her reasons do not align with those celibate groups.
The problem? I thought this book would focus on Febos's journey of where she is finding pleasure during her time in celibacy. Instead, whenever something that falls into that category is mentioned (which is already rare), she breezes past it, and, with the juxtaposition of the depth of the other two parts, it made that part of her journey, which is what I was reading for, feel incredibly pushed to the side and unimportant. I wanted to hear in depth about how she was growing in that year and how this year of celibacy really benefited her, but it felt like a piece of the book that she either couldn't or didn't care to delve deeply into.
There is a point about 70% of the way through the book where Febos says "my life was empty of lovers and more full than it had ever been," then she immediately quotes Audre Lorde instead of giving us a piece of herself, her own thoughts and journey, which is an issue I found with most of the book. We get a very intimate portrait of her before her celibacy journey, but almost every aspect of the celibacy journey is framed through a historical/educational lens, quotes from people before her, and research instead of her own experience. She says her life is more full than it's been, but we aren't getting any insight into this. All we are getting is her reasoning for why she wanted to be celibate and a historical context which, while interesting, does not open us up to actually see how her journey into celibacy affected her. Everything feels theoretically, which isn't necessarily bad, but was disappointing for me (someone who was most excited about seeing that aspect of the journey). If that isn't the aspect that is drawing you to the book, it will not be a big deal. She gives so much of herself in other places and does a lot of really interesting research. However, that piece was the sole reason that I was so excited to pick up this book and, while Febos made it very easy for me to appreciate the craft of this book, I spent the whole time waiting to get the level of depth we were getting for everything else for the part of her journey that she actually spent celibate.
This is ultimately a reflection on why Febos decided to become celibate, not on what celibacy gave to her. It is clear that Febos is incredibly intelligent and thoughtful with her writing and if looking back at past relationships/sexuality leading to celibacy through a personal lens while discussing celibacy through a historical lens sounds up your alley, I highly recommend this book. And, while I'm at it, I highly recommend the audiobook. However, if you want a book that delves into a personal journey with celibacy, this might disappoint.
This was really just a misunderstanding in expectations versus reality and not in a bad way, just in a way that made me think I was picking up a book that I would have been very interested in and the book ending up being about a topic that I don't find as interesting because it is significantly less relatable to me. Febos is an excellent author and narrates her own audiobook beautifully. While this book wasn't in alignment with me, it did introduce me to Febos in a way that has me looking forward to reading her other works.
Finally starting to get the Febos hype. This was a wonderfully smart and fascinating memoir. I love the little diatribes and intellectual meanderings she builds and explores within this rather small story.
Have you ever had that friend who’s never single for more than like five minutes because they’re always diving straight from one relationship to another? That was Melissa Febos until, in her mid-thirties, she chose to make a change. After a toxic relationship ended, she decided to abstain from sex for three months and then, eventually a year. I know a lot of single people reading this are probably like “that’s not a sacrifice, that’s just my normal life,” but as someone addicted to romantic love, Febos found it to be a transformative experience.
I did find this book a bit naval gazey in an Eat, Pray, Love kind of way, but I still enjoyed reading it because the author’s prose is just so beautiful. The book is also at its strongest when she folds in research about celibate women throughout history. While it didn’t fully live up to the hype for me, I still think this one’s worth reading.
I wanted this book to be more of a narrative of everyday pleasure - like “The Art of Frugal Hedonism” or Katherine May’s “Enchantment” - and an exploration of a what a woman’s life becomes outside of the sexual roles of the patriarchy… but it wasn’t that. Instead, it was an arduous academic monologue of the author examining her own obsessive behaviors in the context of sex and codependency, as well as sporadic accounts of historical celibates (which, admittedly, were often women who disavowed sex to escape the confines of patriarchy) that often felt jarring. In fact, I don’t think there was much genuine pleasure (asexual or otherwise) until the last 50 pages of the book. There were some enlightened gems in that last chunk (mostly in “Part III”) that earned it two stars for me instead of one, but not enough to redeem the whole slog. It’s a memoir and I found myself repeatedly rolling my eyes at the narrator/MC because of the drama she imbues on some common experiences. She clearly underwent tremendous personal growth in this life period as she details is, and I infer that writing it was cathartic for her, but the book felt like jamming a therapeutic diary and a bunch of academic essays together in a fairly disjointed manner, and the product was not particularly compelling to me, aside from that last chunk mentioned above.
Recommend hesitantly for fans of: highly intellectual/erudite prose, “Care and Feeding”, “Eat, Pray, #FML”…
Mixed feelings. She’s an excellent writer and this book holds some powerful insight for those struggling with limerence, love addiction, and attachment. However, there is a lack of accountability that irked me. There’s plenty of raw confession. She still seems to romanticize past mistakes and how she treated her exes. If she could just say the words “I cheated”, maybe I wouldn’t feel this way. But she had to use flowery language to describe some really awful behavior. ANYWAYS. Interesting read with interesting research/literature review.
I’ve read all of Febos’ previous books, and enjoyed them. This is my least favorite. It reads very dry - almost clinical, and has a “trying too hard” vibe. She seemed to be three steps removed from her feelings for the entirety of this book.
Melissa Febos' prose was delectable - so very good. So were her insights.
It took courage to lay herself so bare. She looks at replacing dependence with independence. Forgoing all romantic relations for a year, she describes her growth during that time. A realigning of her priorities. It was a transformative journey.
It’s bittersweet that the experience of reading this gorgeous, thoughtful book is over. My own fault for tearing through it in just three days, but I couldn’t help myself — I love the way Melissa explores the contours of her own psyche and life experience.
And I’m not surprised. I’ve loved each of Melissa’s books before, and was so enormously excited to receive an ARC for this one; one I’m excited to read all over again when it’s released in June.
In The Dry Season, as in her previous books, Melissa is so honest, often funny, so curious and considered in her approach to the wisdom that’s come from women before and the wisdom she has gleaned from her own life.
Like Melissa at the start of this book, I’ve been consistently romantically partnered since high school, and often wondered — even as I’m now in a partnership I love — if I would benefit from time alone.
“I was reassured by the fact that I never felt afraid to be alone,” Melissa writes. “I did not consider how one might not ever feel the thing she had successfully outrun.”
Oof.
That was one of many lines I loved that I copied down in my notebook — lines that turned into paragraphs that turned into page after page of Melissa’s words I wanted to remember.
The Dry Season is a book about Melissa’s year of celibacy, yes, but it’s also about the internal narratives we carry into relationships and the relationships we forge (or don’t) with ourselves and our own connection to spirituality; about how having a deeper connection to these inner relationships can allow us to be in relationship with another without needing to be validated or "made whole" by their existence. I can’t think of a single person who wouldn’t benefit from, at the very least, witnessing Melissa’s exploration into the depths of those narratives and relationships from her past.
Much like when I read Leslie Jamison’s Splinters last year (or The Recovering back in 2018), when I read this book, I was struck not just by how much I related to Melissa’s personal experience, but also by how much I desired to interrogate and excavate my own experience like her as a writer.
i was looking forward to this memoir as i really enjoyed body work, febos’s guide to writing memoir. while i didn’t enjoy the dry season quite as much, i think there are some interesting lessons to be taken from it. the book reflects on her period of celibacy, where she reflected on the non-stop chain of relationships she was in up until her mid-thirties.
i got a lot out of her reflections on using this period as a time to truly find herself and focus on the other important things in her life such as friendship, writing, and spirituality. also loved the literary references she made, especially audre lorde’s uses of the erotic, which had a great impact on me when i read it at the end of 2024. febos mentions a lot of writers and historical figures that would be interesting to research further.
i think reactions to her musings on sex and love and relationships will greatly depend on the readers’ own experiences with those things. some of those sections fell a bit flat for me compared to the parts focusing on her internal changes and confidence as her independence grew. some of the timelines of her relationships and those of her friends that are going through similar situations also felt a bit jumbled at times.
thank you to knopf and netgalley for the digital ARC - the dry season published on june 3rd! 3.5 stars rounded up
I want to lie and tell you I'd enjoyed this autobiographical take on a thirty-somewhat year old woman's journey to celibacy. While Melissa's book starts off with a clear statement of intent - three months of celibacy after years of short and longer-term relationships. While at first there's some evidence of a new lease of life - more free time, better quality of friendships and self-examination of past mistakes, soon enough the memoir turns sour. Did we really need to spend the bulk of these brief chapters going into the detailed histories of Octavia Butler, Sappho, the Shakers, Hildegard von Bingen and Virginia Woolf? What was the real point and why should we care about these figures in relation to Melissa's decision to turn to celibacy? Huge distraction and ultimately made for one terribly disappointing and dry read.
I approached this memoir with an open, inquisitive mind and finished it with a sense of relief that the boredom was over. It felt like a self-indulgent, scattered trip down a memory lane filled with some of the least sexy sex imaginable.
After the end of a difficult relationship and a period of continuously picking the wrong people to date, serial monogamist Melissa Febos decides to take a break from dating and sex. In so doing, she discovers more than she thought was possible about love, herself, and the way that our drive to be desired affects what we think we want. What does it mean to be partnered, and why do we pursue it? When we project our feelings and desires onto another person, how does that hurt them, and how does it affect our own capacity to love and love ourselves? What does it mean to live a fulfilling life?
Even though Febos’ journey is driven by a history and choices that are very particular to her, and which I don’t necessarily relate to, I couldn’t help but feel like this book was written specifically for me. Reading this book felt like a mixture of meditation, therapy, and a long heart-to-heart with a good friend; it pushed me to examine myself and my own relationship to love and solitude. Ever since I started The Dry Season, I’ve been talking about it and recommending it to everyone who will listen to me, and I don’t yet know whether that’s because I think everyone should read it or because I am simply that obsessed; it very well might be both. I don’t know when I’ve read a memoir as insightful as this one, and I am so grateful to Febos for writing it and sharing it. Her exploration of art, pleasure, and freedom is a manifesto for anyone interested in living the life they want, whether single or in a relationship.
I’m not even sure I have the talent or ability to review writing as good as this! My therapist asked what I liked about the book and I was like “…..” I mean she described ____ as _____ (I’m not allowed to quote per Net Galley) but who would think to write like this?! It’s stunning. It takes your breath away. It makes you want to go audit an MFA.
My only qualm with this book is that the title felt a little misleading for what it was primarily about. Febos tells a story of healing, growth, connection to elders and research on celibacy, and finding herself. There were glimmers of pleasure in that, but I hadn’t expected so much of it to be about past relationships. I always feel a little icky providing something I didn’t like about a memoir, because the story is true because it was her experience. That’s the whole point. It was still a gorgeous read and made me self-reflect more than I usually sign up for in a book, so brava on getting a reader to get vulnerable! This was a book about the relationship between self worth and lovability and BOY did I need someone else’s story to ground myself in that. Plus the ending was sweet as ever.
Can’t wait for this book to come out and thank you Net Galley and Knopf Publishing for the ARC!
𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚛: 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. Sex is ✨exciting✨ I assumed celibacy would be…much less exciting. Turns out not picking up 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙮 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝘣𝘺 @melissafebos —for any reason—is doing yourself a gross disservice.
I went in expecting the kinda memoir that’s specifically the author’s. Relatable if you stretch a bit, adapt their story to your situation. Fortune cookie & horoscope-esque. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙮 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 is a MF manifesto. W/e you’ve read of Febos’, imagine that on steroids (or off? depending on what kinda roids they are ig 😅😂). By the end I was convinced enough to consider celibacy myself.
In removing the “end goal” so to speak, you gain clarity inaccessible any other way (or so I’m told lol). The observations made regarding women’s presentation & their consequential treatment? Staggering. The separation of 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵 from its other parts (after care, emotional cleanup, self perception, etc)? Something I’d argue only Melissa could articulate in this way. A v unique spot, some of which I can personally attest to, being a queer femme is so frustrating in terms of visibility. A toss up whether your queerness will be recognized—& even when it is, that doesn’t shield from the male gaze.
Really looking at her relationship w her body & sex left me no choice but to do the same. 𝘐 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥. It’s SO sad how much time, money, emotional bandwidth & mental energy I’ve (we’ve) spent in hopes of ultimately—like it or not—being desirable. & for what? The vast majority of those whose attention I was hoping to catch I couldn’t pick out of a line-up today. There’s not a single relationship that was made better by the dynamic, if anything I set myself up for disappointment & mistreatment.
Thank you bunches to A.A.Knopf, Melissa Febos & NetGalley for the DRC, physical ARC and beautiful finished copy w goodies. You spoiled the crap out of me w this one and I'm so friggin thankful. This memoir is everything.
A memoir about celibacy from a writer whose debut recounted her time working as a dominatrix could seem like a gimmick. In Melissa Febos's hands, it is anything but. Yes, this is a book about a year without sex, but it is really a book about all of the other ways to develop relationships, engage with the world, and find pleasure. In solitude, Febos discovers freedom, time to engage in intellectual and creative pursuits, and needed perspective. In her thoughtful and often surprising reflection, she offers us space to consider our own distractions of choice and what we might find on the other side of them.
4.5. I thoroughly enjoyed this memoir and can’t wait to pick up Febos’s previous works. I most enjoyed the references to history and what celibacy has looked like throughout different ages. Febos wrote at length on Hildegard, the medieval mystic (whom I’m always eager to hear more about) and lesbian nuns (hell yeah) specifically how women of the past would choose devout lives in order to sidestep intimate life and duty to men. I love the discussions of duty vs. devotion, the intersection of religion and the erotic, and art being a channel to the divine. My one critique is she postures that three months of celibacy seems to be this impossible challenge of abstinence which I found funny because three months seems like nothing. The book ends with references to many great writers and the declaration that “it’s raining”— which I really really loved.
Oh! And a painting of Sappho is the literal cover so this was obviously going to be great.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I picked up this book after clicking on a NYT op-ed by the author which had a terrible headline and then discovering that her writing was gorgeous. So gorgeous I wanted to read this book, so gorgeous that every chapter felt like a pastry to be savored with butter. She weaves historical chronicles of celibacy with her own journey to decenter relationships and sex from her addict’s life and through it all discovers the truth of herself. Gorgeous all the way down!
Truly excellent, prompting much note-taking and self-reflection. If being alone is a prized fantasy, the structure of one’s life needs interrogation. Recommended to anyone who wants or needs to grow around love, self, desire, relation: this book is a guidelight with a clear path, and I’ve found occasion to recommend it to so many people who seem like they might need it in the last week alone.