“Nini Berndt wonderfully makes the strange familiar and the familiar strange. There Are Reasons for This immerses you in the unsettling but tender lives of its characters, whose yearning for connection powerfully mirrors our own. This is a truly memorable novel.” ―Claire Messud
Lucy’s brother, Mikey, is dead. Two years ago, when he left their small Eastern Colorado town and moved west to Denver, he’d intended to bring Lucy along. But Lucy has only just arrived, and too late. She arrives in search of Helen, a woman Mikey loved. But when Lucy moves in across the hall, she finds nothing is as she the city is crumbling; the weather is tempestuous; a predator is on the loose; the old woman in the attic needs company; desire is being compressed into pills and distributed like candy; and, most distressing of all, she finds herself becoming obsessed with Helen, who is nothing like she expected—and who has no idea who Lucy really is.
As Helen’s and Lucy’s lives become more entwined, Lucy begins to realize the real reasons she came to Denver are deeper and stranger than a simple desire to understand what happened to her brother. As a storm builds and the city falls apart, Lucy finds herself drawn further to Helen, and farther from her brother, questioning what makes a family and if love can ever really be found.
There Are Reasons for This is a modern love song about the fallibility of love—in all its iterations—about the denial and tethering of desire, about the family we are given and the one we find for ourselves, and to what comes next, whatever that may be.
Lucy moves to Colorado after her brother Mikey moved there a few years ago. After Mikey’s death she seeks out the woman he loved, Helen. I really disliked both Lucy and Helen as characters, as they seemed very hopeless and irritable. There is a big disparity between the rich and the working class in this book and a focus on pharmaceuticals as a solution to anything.
The book has a dream like quality that I personally found difficult to follow. I enjoy speculative fiction and books with a climate change theme, but this one did not grab me.
Others did enjoy it quite a bit, though, so maybe it’s just not for me.
Thanks to NetGalley and Tin House for the ARC. Book to be published June 3, 2025.
There Are Reasons for This is a beautiful, haunting debut that lingers long after you finish it. Nini Berndt writes beautifully about the weight of grief, especially the kind that comes from sudden, devastating loss, and how the memory of that person continues to creep into every moment. That grief colors everything in the book, from the characters’ interactions to the choices they make to dull the pain. Nini captures the messiness of Queer friendship and romance in a way that feels incredibly honest: tender, complicated, sometimes destructive, and always deeply human.
What stood out most to me was how the book intertwines personal collapse with environmental collapse. As the world burns (literally), the characters reach for whatever numbs (drugs, denial, each other). It’s not hopeful exactly, but it is real, and that’s what makes it hit hard. This is one of those books that doesn’t offer easy answers, but instead sits with you in the discomfort and asks you to feel it. I’m so glad I read it, and I know this book will always be incredibly special to me.
There Are Reasons for This by Nini Berndt is a striking work of literary fiction that explores the hollow ache of a dying world starved for human connection. Set in the not-too-distant future, the novel follows Lucy, a grieving young woman who moves to a desiccated Denver in search of answers about her brother Mikey's death. She becomes entangled with Helen, a professional cuddler who once shared a complex relationship with Mikey. Berndt's prose is poetically deadpan—every sentence lands with weight, stripped-down yet evocative. The narrative captures a sense of desperate ennui without becoming overwrought, painting a bleak, numbed reality that feels fresh and revelatory. The novel delves into themes of longing and loss amidst societal decay. There Are Reasons for This says so much with so little. It’s a quiet, unsettling meditation on emotional scarcity, human detachment, and seeking meaning in a disintegrating world. Yet, there's a pulse of originality in its gloom, a dry beauty that lingers long after the last page. A compelling, thoughtful read. Video review: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cr9Ye....
Grief, love, the ache of being alive in a world that’s falling apart. Nini Berndt writes with such tenderness and clarity, capturing grief and loss that doesn’t announce itself loudly but still seeps into every corner of your life.
I appreciated the raw beauty in how Nini depicted personal sorrow mirrored in environmental collapse, like the inner and outer worlds are unraveling in sync. The characters don’t chase redemption. They stumble, numb themselves, reach for each other, fall apart.
The queer relationships felt very honest and real, they were messy and intimate and impossible to reduce to anything simple.
Thank you mom for gifting me a signed copy for my birthday!
This book depicts a vivid dystopia that feels nearer and nearer every day. Extremely observant, wonderfully queer, and full of poignant vignettes. A must read for Pride month!
Enter a world where fires and floods are as common as snow in the desert, the sky glows red with dust, and people take odd jobs—like professional snugglers—to fill the void of lost connection.
After her brother’s death, Lucy leaves their small Colorado town for Denver, drawn to Helen, the woman who meant the most to him in his final days. Her fixation deepens as she moves into the apartment across the hall—and forms an unexpected bond with an old woman living in the attic. As Lucy searches for answers and Helen remains unaware of her identity, the two women navigate grief, love, and loss as the threat of global climate catastrophe rises.
Berndt’s lyrical, urgent prose brings this haunting, intimate story to life. Set at the edge of a collapsing world, THERE ARE REASONS FOR THIS is a prophetic and deeply human novel that will resonate with fans of Margaret Atwood and Emily St. John Mandel. These characters—and their world—will stay with me for a long time.
One review I saw said Nini Berndt's writing has "the grit of Sam Shepard and echoes of Joy Williams," and that just about sums up how I felt reading There Are Reasons For This. Berndt has Williams' eye for the peculiar hidden in the familiar. This is rare enough in a writer; even rarer is the ability to render that peculiarity in prose as gorgeous as Berndt's. Every sentence is deceptively simple and deeply profound, making for a story that is not only propulsive but an absolute delight to read. I normally feel apprehensive about near-future dystopias (the present feels dystopian enough), but Berndt explored these heavy themes with grace and wit, and, without pandering, left me feeling hopeful--maybe not that everything can be fixed, but there there is still meaning to be found in human connection, and in the alchemy of pain. Lucy, Mikey, Helen, and especially go-kart crashing old Mrs. McGorvey will stick with me for a long time.
Can't wait to see what this writer has in store next.
When Lucy's older brother Mikey dies out west, she also decides to move out there. She's searching for Helen, Mikey's girlfriend. Once she gets to know Helen, she searches for something more but cannot articulate precisely what it is.
The book's setting is in the near future, but it has a further futuristic feel. There are almost daily climate disasters that the world tends to ignore. And there's a lot of resignation and hopelessness in the (non-wealthy) characters. The descriptions are sometimes dreamlike, which kept me engaged and wanting to see what happens next.
Recommended for lovers of speculative fiction with messy characters and LGBT representation.
Dystopian fiction isn’t really my genre but being a Denver resident, I liked all the local references. Aside from that, ‘There Are Reasons For This’ was exactly as the title says - there are reasons for every action and reaction in both good and bad times. Despite the tragic world around the characters (the city literally burning, and family members dying), there is love and authenticity and a craving for each of those things no matter how hard the world around us gets, and those cravings will lead to love in all shapes and sizes. As AI evolves, this book shows that the need for human connection will never go away. I loved the little bit of butterfly effect through out the novel.
This was an interesting form of dystopian fiction as the end of the world isn't an explosion but a slow, creeping flood, and while the destruction is coming, the focus is on the connections of the characters and their relationships. It's a reflective and emotional look at how people seek to avoid loneliness when the world crumbles around them. 4.75 out of 5.
Beautifully written and gripping mystery/romance that reflects on love, gender, AI, climate change and the role of Pharma. Words so alive, the heat radiated off the page! Masterful prose worthy of study to improve writing skills or just to enjoy in your A/C at home. It’s unclear to me why this book hasn’t gotten more traction. It was recommended to me by my favorite bookstore.
A harrowing and poignant exploration of life and love in the face of loss, all taking place in a not-so-far-off dystopian world. I loved getting to know the characters; Berndt writes them to be so real and raw. I felt their pain so vividly with them, and was drawn into their lives more than I thought I’d be at the beginning of the book. I was also impressed with how Berndt was able to weave together Lucy and Helen’s perspectives from the past and present, all while maintaining clarity and continually captivating my attention.
I honestly don't know how I feel about this one ... I didn't really like the main characters, but I also wasn't really supposed to. It was well-written but I kept getting lost and restarting chapters (partially my fault, I admit). Worth a read, but maybe requires a bit more focus than I had in the moment.
Please note: I won this book in a GoodReads giveaway.
Beautifully written story that explores grief, mental health, drug use, and the absurdity of reality. It was a good read, though I felt that some early plot lines got a little lost and some later ones were introduced too late in the story.
I was captivated by this book from start to finish. Nini’s characters draw you into their lives and you experience their complex feelings alongside them. Highly recommend!
After hearing that her beloved brother is dead, Lucy follows his trail from isolated & tornado-torn Eastern Colorado to a near-future Denver in search of the last person who really knew him, a lonely lesbian named Helen.
As someone living in Denver now, it was so interesting to see the dystopian version Berndt created as a dramatic backdrop to this subtle, queer character study. There's dozens of new legal drugs to make you feel any emotion you can think of (anything to stop thinking of the world slowly crumbling around you), an Air Monitor system with speakers everywhere to constantly let you know how bad the air is (it's always bad), and a high demand for those willing to provide companionship to the rich & discontented in exchange for cash.
Even so, the setting could have been utilized a bit more--the scene at the pool with the old ladies dismissing the impending lightning storm against the stern advice from the Air Monitor lives clear in my mind and I wish there were more scenes like it.
And I do think the ending could have been drawn out a bit more, there was a lot leading up to this moment and I wanted more big emotions from the characters. Otherwise I really enjoyed this debut novel and will be curious to see what Berndt writes next.
Review of There Are Reasons for This by Nini Berndt
At its heart, There Are Reasons for This is about grief, longing, and the unpredictable ways our relationships link us to those we’ve lost, particularly when Lucy moves to Denver after her brother Mikey’s death and becomes entangled with Helen, the woman he loved. Lucy’s journey is not just about closure, but about finding something of her brother in a woman who never knew she existed. What unfolds is a hauntingly tender narrative set in a near-future Denver ravaged by climate instability, where emotional and environmental decay swirl together.
From the start, I was struck by how lucid and spare Berndt’s prose is: every sentence feels deliberate, yet the world she builds with air monitors broadcasting caution, dissolved neighborhoods, and intimate pharmaceutical escapes has a kind of uncanny realism. In there, Lucy and Helen’s connection pulses with desire, guilt, and something unnameable, especially because Lucy conceals her identity from Helen. This omission feels both fragile and inevitable, and the tension held me in that anxious space where curiosity and fear coexist. I was moved by how the city’s instability (dust storms, oppressive heat) mirrors the inner instability of these characters. There’s a strange beauty in their sadness: Lucy’s fixation, Helen’s burden of loss, and the way both of them reach for meaning in a world that’s unraveling.
Reading this felt like eavesdropping on someone’s most intimate thoughts, and I admired the way Berndt weaves in themes of intimacy and isolation without turning them into sentimentality. The near-future setting never overwhelmed the interpersonal story; instead, it amplified how fragile and precious human connection is. I also loved how the book questions what “family” really means, is it blood, memory, desire, or something born after loss? By the end, I felt both unsettled and hopeful in a subtle, bittersweet way.
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars. This debut is emotionally resonant and beautifully written, with a compelling exploration of grief and identity. My only hesitation is that its slow, dreamlike pacing and ambiguous resolution might not click for readers who prefer more plot-driven or straightforward narratives. But for me, that open-endedness was precisely the part that lingered.
This was a rather curious reading experience for me. I didn't particularly like or care about any of the characters, in fact, actively disliking the one everyone is this book seems so obsessed about. And yet, I liked the writing so much that it kept my interest throughout and resulted in rounding up this rating.
I've always maintained that one doesn't need to like the characters to enjoy a book. Indeed, there's something rather pedestrian about the inability to separate the two. The people in the book are not auditioning to be your friends; their stories are meant to be compelling, not easily likable. In that, this novel succeeds, and there are reasons for this: it's set in a world recognizably our own but worse, in a way that is a direct logistical progression to what's happening now. And the characters in are, by and large, emotionally disconnected and lonely. In fact, loneliness is such a problem in this world that there are people who work as paid companions to ease one's solitude. This is what two lead characters end up doing, although in different ways.
Why didn't I like the characters? Perhaps it's their obnoxiously disaffected youth, perhaps it's the annoying way in which everyone obsesses over Mikey, the insubstantial pretty party boy with few redeeming qualities except for his looks. Perhaps it's the way they all spoke in exactly the same way of choppy sentences. But the writing really was lovely, such beautiful way of handling words and arranging them into sentences, so evocative and elegant. For that alone, the book is worth a read. Thanks Netgalley.
Nini Berndt’s unabashedly strange but wildly entertaining and absorbing novel, There are Reasons for This, is set in Denver, Colorado at an unspecified future time when the ravages of climate change have wreaked havoc on the planet and left what remains of humanity grappling with an epidemic of isolation and loneliness. Mikey and younger sister Lucy grew up in a remote, nondescript town in Colorado’s southwestern hinterland. Mikey, an artist, wants desperately to escape his dysfunctional family, mostly because of his mother’s cynicism and crushing negativity, but is reluctant to leave Lucy behind. But then he does leave, telling Lucy that he wants her to follow when she feels able to. Sister and brother stay in touch, until one day Mikey dies. A year later Lucy, now 21, arrives in Denver seeking answers. Armed with some, but not all, the details of Mikey’s life in the city, Lucy tracks down Helen, the woman Mikey spent much time with and spoke about often, mostly in endearing terms. Lucy rents a room in Helen’s building, right across the hall, and through the peephole keeps an eye on Helen’s comings and goings. Berndt’s tense 3rd-person narrative toggles between Helen and Lucy. We learn that Helen is a “professional cuddler,” whose clients are mostly needy older men, and, occasionally, couples. Living in such proximity, Lucy and Helen inevitably meet. Soon they become intimate, and Lucy (without revealing she is Mikey’s sister) finds herself drawn into Helen’s world. In Lucy’s chapters we accompany the two women on various outings, eventually zeroing in on Helen’s client couple, Raena and Luke, a pair of ultra-wealthy, entitled brats. In Helen’s chapters, the narrative explores the recent past, revealing Raena’s attraction to Mikey, an attraction that grows into an obsession. By the midpoint of the novel as the secrets pile up, the reader is so profoundly invested in what happens, to Lucy in particular, that the story becomes something of a page-turner. Nini Berndt is a fearless and uninhibited writer, adept at plumbing the depths of her characters’ shifting emotions, exploring their weaknesses, and probing their private fears and yearnings, thereby making them indelible in the reader’s mind. Her prose is compulsively readable: rhythmic and lyrical, endowed with an irresistible flow. And in addition, in There are Reasons for This, her eerily compelling debut novel, Nini Berndt has created a world that is frighteningly plausible, one that warns eloquently of dire consequences for humanity should the climate crisis be ignored.
I preface by saying I used to love books set in the future with "end of the world" vibes about a calamity or ecological disaster changing life as we know it. Then, I had a daughter! And now I hate books about how scary the future looks! Unfortunately, I do think that this hinders my enjoyment and trying to be non-biased about a book, even when it's one as good as THERE ARE REASONS FOR THIS, Nini Berndt's gorgeous debut.
The world in this book is a strange one. Only a few years into the future, climate change has greatly impacted American's daily life and the world just seems depressing as a whole. Lucy moves to Denver to try to figure out what caused her brother Mikey's death a few months prior. He befriended Helen, and while Lucy thought she was his girlfriend, after moving into the apartment directly below hers to try to get more information about what Helen may know about his death, she realizes their relationship was more complicated than that, and begins to fall for her herself.
With unique prose and dreary but affective world-building, I thought this was an extremely solid debut. The way the narrative ends up being about drugs and emotional states was unexpected, but made a lot of sense in the big picture of the story Berndt is telling. Searching for comfort (be it food, escapism TV, books (for me!) or anything that soothes the soul) when things are collapsing resonated, as I think it is for everyone right now. While this was a hard read for me, I will still always try to face what scares me in fiction as I have rarely ever regretted doing so.
I’m sure that there is an audience for this type of book, but I’m definitely not it. The setting was so confusing, half the book I thought it was set in the 60s-80s before they mentioned AI and I realized that wasn’t the case. The only character I liked was the lady Lucy is a granddaughter-for-hire for. Between Helen, Lucy, and Raena, I was just irritated. Three women that were all boring to me for different reasons, but boring nonetheless. I really just couldn’t connect to the characters, so I had a hard time getting into the story. The reasonings and secrets for decisions being made were also a bit confusing. Lucy not communicating at all was painful to read- this adult woman got her way all the way to Denver and is somehow so uncommunicative that she can’t say she’s Mikey’s sister… it was just kind of annoying.
The writing style was also very… wistful and had an ethereal feel to it. I didn’t particularly enjoy the style, but I think that the it would fit really well for maybe a light fantasy. Mainly chose this because I needed a debut novel for my reading challenge and it was very short, so I hopped in. This is all just my opinion!! I personally didn’t enjoy this book, but I’m sure plenty will- and regardless of my opinion, big congrats to this author for her debut
This novel was a random library find for me. Something on the cover description spoke to me; young Lucy following the mystery of her brother Mikey's escape from a dust bowl and nowhere existence in the plains east of Denver to the city itself, and subsequent death. Set in a maybe 20 year future, the city is falling apart along with the plains. Weather is terrible. An AI weather and air advisor is constantly speaking to the citizens, and cars are at least partly robot controlled. Large parts of the city have been given up on. Existence for the citizens is seemingly just trying to stay happy, and at least from what Mikey and then Lucy experience, legal 'happy' drugs are a large part of the solution. Lucy tracks down Helen; who Mikey became attached to; in order to find out what happened. The story takes some twists and turns before much is revealed, for both Helen and Lucy. I found the story, along with Helen and Lucy, hard to put down and not think about. This was certainly a different novel but terrific.
There Are Reasons For This pulled me in slowly, then refused to let go. I loved the way the story built—how it really started to burn once we moved beyond the apartment building. The scenes on the plains, the eerie tension of the ménage à trois (especially that club scene), and the charged collision between Lucy and Helen were almost too intense to read in public. I literally found myself uncomfortable reading it on the train or at work—and yes, I missed my stop. That’s the strongest endorsement I can give. Mikey was a standout: so vivid and real, especially if you've ever known (or been) a scrappy dirtbag dreamer out West. The ache of something always just out of reach radiates through the characters and their world. I had to force myself not to tear through it—but I failed. Finished it too fast, and now I’m already tempted to start over. This is one of those rare books that seeps into your dreams and lingers long after the final page.