Stay True meets Headshot in this intimate, bruising debut novel about the short and tumultuous life of a charismatic and enigmatic table tennis prodigy, as seen through the eyes of those pulled into his orbit.
Ryan Lo begins playing table tennis at age eight, under the tutelage of his brilliant but ruthless coach Kristian, who sees talent in him that might be nurtured into greatness. Throughout an adolescence circumscribed by Kristian's demanding behavior, Ryan forms jealousy-fueled and mutually adoring friendships with his teammates and competitors, falls in love with fellow table tennis star Anabel Yu, and above all, wins championships.
By twenty-one, Ryan ascends all the way to the German Bundesliga, the highest echelon of international table tennis, just as he was supposed to, but he doesn't stay there. It is clear to all that Ryan Lo was meant to be the greatest in the world. Instead, he abandons competition and is dead before his twenty-fifth birthday. What happened?
In crisp, evocative prose, Underspin masterfully delves beneath the relentless pressure that forges a champion, considering adolescence, estrangement, and the great injustices committed within our closest relationships. A love letter to an underdog sports circuit and a tender exploration of love, loss and abuse, Underspin is a bildungsroman and literary puzzle for readers of Rita Bullwinkel, Hua Hsu, Susan Choi, and Brandon Taylor.
A coming-of-age novel about a 21-year-old table tennis prodigy who dies before his 25th birthday. Underspin had interesting themes about competition and pressure, abuse and poor boundaries in coaching relationships, and what we can and can’t do to support our friends and folks we care about. Unfortunately I found the writing style uninspired, in that it felt like we were learning a lot about our protagonist Ryan Lo through the eyes of other people, but in a way that felt too tell-y and not show-y. A unique and interesting premise though the execution didn’t leave much room for me to develop a deeper emotional connection with the characters and the story overall.
’You can't seek the past; it has turned its back on you, and you cannot choose, if it ever does turn again, which face it presents to you’
Underspin is the devastatingly haunting story of the life of Ryan Lo, a professional ping pong player who died at just 25-years-old. Told through the viewpoints of those whose lives collided with his, this is a story that is certain to have your heart in pieces by the end of it.
Zhao achieved something incredible with this book. There is something uniquely distressing about reading the abuse that Ryan faced through the hands of his coach, Kristian, not through his own perspective but through others. The constant mystery surrounding his own feelings, own passions, and own ambitions added a distinct element to the narrative. The story centres around Ryan and yet as a reader you finish the book knowing next to nothing about him. Zhao very much places the reader in the same position as the characters that interact with him - observers, for better or worse.
The writing was superb, and while I do think there were a few too many tangents and strands of narrative that went on for a little too long, I was mostly pleasantly surprised by the pacing as well.
This is a book I cannot recommend enough for those that enjoy darkly tragic stories on ‘tortured artists’ and the complexities of abuse of power and position.
Overall, Underspin gets 4/5 stars.
thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review! <3
Underspin is a surprising yet devastatingly heavy novel, focusing on the cruel underbelly of adolescence professional sports, gross abuses of power, on grief, trauma, and the impact of staying silent. Ryan Lo was one of the best table tennis players of his generation, that is, until his untimely death. Underspin begins with the day of his funeral, details of his demise unclear, and then rewinds to tell the story of Ryan’s life from the perspective of others. From the eyes of friends, acquaintances, and even strangers, we slowly piece together Ryan’s deeply complex yet misunderstood story. He is sweet and kind at times, he is distasteful in other stories, and his toxic relationship with his coach hangs over each interaction like a dark cloud. What is really going on in Ryan Lo’s mind? Underspin was a heavy and slow read, not just from the intense material, but from entering into completely new lives and stories each chapter— Zhao does an excellent job in detailing the ins and outs of each backstory, down to each minute detail. As beautifully as the novel was written, sometimes the text was confusing to read with long streams of consciousnesses and overlapping thoughts, making some particular stories hard to follow. But overall, Underspin is an extraordinary and dynamic read, unlike any book I’ve read before. E.Y. Zhao writes with such power and heart, and I appreciated the storytelling structure as a realistic way to understand the complexities and dynamics our characters. Thank you to NetGalley for this ARC
Zhao’s debut opens with friends and family commemorating Ryan, a Chinese American man in his mid-twenties who had a promising future as a competitive table tennis player. The author tells Ryan’s story from over ten characters’ perspectives, including Ryan’s renowned German coach, Kristian, who repeatedly sexually assaults his player. Others include Anabel (on-and-off girlfriend to Ryan), Denny (table tennis teammate and colleague to Ryan), and Hannah (trainee to Kristian). After Ryan’s death, and near the end of the book in Joan’s section, Anabel reports her suspicion of Kristian’s sexual misconduct to the table tennis governing board, and Kristian gets charged “with [a] misdemeanour [for] child molestation of a fourteen-year-old student.”
The author’s innovative form generates a detached sense of spectatorship as she cobbles together the composite narrators, whose first-person views never repeat, and concludes with a brief section from Ryan. Generally moving linearly, readers catch a glimpse into a character’s world at a particular point in time, always in reference to Ryan. A main theme in this contemporary work centers on the community of table tennis enthusiasts, ranging from exercising at the club to competing at a professional athletic level. Playing at teenage Ryan’s caliber demands sustained ambition, and when he and other players don’t reach their planned goals, they recalibrate their relationship with the sport. The novel’s form, though unique, may be bolstered in three ways. If readers could (1) build stronger connections with several of the host of characters, (2) view their interior life with more clarity, such as Denny’s storyline, and (3) imagine their world and setting more vividly, then Underspin would provide readers with more stability to balance the unconventional configuration with attachments to characters.
I appreciate Zhao bringing her childhood sport to these pages, and I look forward to what she creates next.
My thanks to Astra House and NetGalley for an ARC.
Oooh this was goood!! It pulls you into a world you probably haven’t thought much about, professional table tennis, but quickly shows it’s about way more than just the sport. The book begins at Ryan Lo’s funeral, then unravels his story through people who knew him in different ways.
Each chapter shifts perspective, so you see Ryan as a prodigy, a bully, a flirt, and an overall mess, depending on who’s telling the story. It makes the book feel layered and alive, even if you never quite pin down who Ryan really was. You get fragments that slowly build into a picture of a life both extraordinary and tragic.
It’s a heavy read. Zhao dives into abuse, power, and trauma. I found myself hooked by how human it all felt. The table tennis backdrop is fascinating, but what really hits are the bigger themes: the way adults fail kids, the silence that allows harm to continue, and the way grief reshapes memory.
Fantastic read! Introduced me to an intense world of high school/pro table tennis through the perspective of players, coaches, refs, etc. Interesting story of a character with whom all narrators are obsessed but who the reader can never get to know intimately. Don't think I've ever seen a book do that - it kept me going through the book, wanting to get to know Ryan more, and felt really spot on for a novel about a fleet and flighty character we're always watching at a ping pong table.
I also loved Marcy's character, and the way she thinks about growing up and "turning out". The way she write about early-twenties stress really resonated with me and has stuck with me since.
A stunning debut which I’m already desperate to re-read! It’s at once thrilling and devastating, with a rich and compelling cast of characters, providing an intimate look into the world of competitive table tennis and one particular prodigy. Phenomenal read, highly recommend for lovers of niche sports, complex relationships, and/or good books.
It was so cool to read a book written by a fellow Burroughs alum! Publishing a debut novel is no small feat, so huge kudos to Emily for all of her hard work. We need more writers from St. Louis!
What immediately drew me in was the premise. The reader learns early on that the protagonist, Ryan Lo, has died at age 24 of a mysterious cause, and the novel then unfolds backward through the perspectives of friends, family members, and acquaintances who knew him. Each chapter carries a distinct voice, shaped by the narrator’s motivations, insecurities, and relationship to Ryan. That structural choice worked well in creating momentum; I tore through the book almost as if it were a mystery, constantly trying to piece together what actually happened.
That same structure, however, was also what frustrated me most. By the end of the book, I didn’t feel deeply connected to any one character. The rotating perspectives kept me intellectually engaged but emotionally distant, and there were very few characters I found genuinely likable or rooted for. While I understand this was intentional and aligns with the author’s point that even seeing someone from many angles doesn’t guarantee real understanding, it still left me wanting more depth and emotional grounding.
One of the most unexpected takeaways for me was how the book made me think differently about hyper-competitive environments, particularly elite sports like table tennis. Across so much media I’ve consumed this year (from LBJ biographies to The Bear) being “the best” is portrayed as far more damaging than rewarding. Ryan’s childhood is almost entirely consumed by training and travel, leaving little room for joy, exploration, or relationships outside the elite table tennis world. The book also shows how insular that world can become, with characters often dismissive of people who don’t share the same level of commitment or reverence for the sport. Reading this made me more appreciative of my own upbringing, which emphasized breadth over depth. A single all-consuming pursuit can be impressive, but it can also be isolating and, over time, unsustainable.
I also really appreciated the book’s focus on Asian American characters and culture. Table tennis is a sport heavily dominated by Asian players, and the novel reflects that reality thoughtfully, with many of its characters being Chinese or Asian American. While identity isn’t the book’s central theme, cultural values quietly shape the characters’ priorities, family dynamics, and sense of self in ways that felt natural rather than forced.
Ultimately, Underspin grapples with heavy themes, including coming of age, purpose, ambition, and the difficulty of maintaining relationships. Nearly every character is struggling with at least one of these, and I found myself somewhat disappointed by how little resolution many of them received. That said, I suspect this lack of closure is intentional, underscoring the idea that growth is ongoing and answers are rarely clean.
I would still recommend this book as a fast-paced, thought-provoking read, though undeniably a heavy one. It left me curious to watch a professional table tennis match and even explore recreational table tennis in NYC. It also made me grateful that my grandparents always encouraged my brother and me to play growing up. There’s something beautiful about a sport that can be shared across generations, not just mastered at the highest level.
In "Underspin", E. Y. Zhao sets the stage for the rise and fall of a table tennis protege - all told through the perspectives of those who are a part of his life.
The son of two high-performing surgeons in California, Ryan Lo has everything he needs for an incredible life. From a young age, he's trained for greatness in the sport of table tennis under the watchful eye of his coach Kristian, and made his name known across numerous competitions and victories. Yet, even in the early pages of this novel, it's revealed that he dies before he's hit 25 years of age - a jarring discovery, but one that carries the reader along through the rest of the story. In alternating perspectives and voices, Zhao reveals more details about Lo's life - from his childhood where he garnered envy and jealousy from his fellow peers training under Coach Kristian, to his long-time girlfriend Anabel Yu who he met in the table tennis competitions, and in later years, to a senior couple who receive lessons from him.
As someone who's Chinese American, I thoroughly enjoyed this novel. Despite the fact that table tennis (ping pong) isn't quite as well-known or appreciated in the US, the grueling hours of training, the sacrifices made, the physical pain and impairments that it can cause are made clear here - and for those unfamiliar with the sport, gives readers an appreciation for it. And just as it happens in any other sport, it poses risks to its players, including the toll on their physical and mental health, the tempting glory of fame and money, and the potential for abuse of its players. While I did find the sheer number of characters and perspectives difficult to keep track of, it didn't detract from the overall novel and was a unique storytelling that helped paint the life and character of its protagonist.
Very much a recommended read when "Underspin" is published in late September!
This has all the makings of a great book: a mystery, an important social issue, a deep look into a world few people get to see. But with too many narrators, the book jumps between characters, it’s hard to follow and I think maybe the plot doesn’t move at all.
But I was definitely confused. The audiobook narrator is slow and choppy and I had a hard time following it (too slow to listen to regular time, too choppy at 1.25 speed).
Thanks to NetGalley for an opportunity to read this advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
I loved it. All the best parts about a collection of stories—the range of voices and writing styles, the ping-ponging of our attention, how big this world ends up seeming and how high the stakes feel, since everyone's obsessed with this niche world. Plus, some really great jolts of satire in the yuppie investors, of humor in Herr Doktor, while the characters come across as emotionally complex and believably weird. But also all the best parts of a novel—the slow unfolding of the mystery of this kid, who in some ways is unknowable—immature, still figuring himself out, sometimes angry and sometimes blissfully happy. I don't really mind not knowing everything by the end—just enjoying watch the dust settle after the whirlwind passes by.
once, an english teacher (who taught both of us) compared my writing to the author’s… i can now say this was way too high of a compliment for me!! this twisting little book has earned my strong admiration. sometimes i lost track of characters but that’s ok because the core ones are quite memorable and the prose is brilliant.
Interesting book that started out with a lot of intrigue but ultimately had an anti-climactic ending. The author weaves in and out of a lot of different perspectives that provides a through line that is engaging and keeps you reading to figure out what the mystery surrounding Ryan is. However, that fizzles out towards the end and doesn't give the satisfying ending that I personally was looking for. Not my cup of tea.
Also, the author's writing style can be difficult to follow as they overuse commas to string together different thoughts/ideas but it ends up being very difficult to follow. There was one sentence towards the end that had nine commas and a semi colon.
Underspin begins at the funeral of Ryan Lo - a talented table tennis player - and deep dives into his short life, rewinding the years to follow his growth from child to adult, through the eyes of the people who knew him best, knew him barely, or had been affected by him in some way, shape or form. It touches on the darkness that comes with being a talented young athlete, abuse of power, trauma, and sexual assault in a complex but sensitive way; never explicitly going into details, but leaving enough hints for you to understand the truth within the fractured timeline of Ryan's life.
Each chapter is written from the perspective of a different person whom Ryan knew, from various periods of his life. Each chapter has a distinct style and voice, which is fascinating and incredibly clever. However, it's also frustrating because, despite watching this child grow into a young man, being with him through multiple important events, competitions, and moments, you never truly get to understand him. You never find the real Ryan, because all you get to see of him is the version that each character sees - and they all view him differently. For some, Ryan is an unpleasant, cruel bully; to others, he's charming, attractive, and admirable. All I wanted to know was: Who IS Ryan Lo, and what really happened to him? But those questions are never explicitly answered, leaving you to piece the puzzle together, one story at a time.
Admittedly, this was a slow read for me - not just because of the heaviness of the implied content, but because of the long, winding sentences the author used regularly throughout the book that, on many an occasion, made me go back and re-read sometimes pages at a time. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing - it gave me time and space to think about the words I was reading, but I did find it affected not only the pacing, but also how often I wanted to reach for the book to read more.
Overall, I can't say I enjoyed this book because it left me feeling an emptiness inside that I can't quite explain, but that in itself should be testament to how well written, thoughtful, and thought-provoking it is. A difficult read? Yes. A worthwhile read? Also, definitely yes.
Thank you, NetGalley and Astra Publishing, for the ARC. It's greatly appreciated <3
A darker read than I thought I was getting myself into. But then again, I feel like that’s the landscape of children in pro/ competitive sport spaces.
Zhao did a great job of capturing some of the unique/ disturbing truths of these communities, in a well written, character driven story.
Some bits that didn’t vibe as much with me were the length (I feel like this story could have been as effectively told in 50 less pages), and complexity of some of the writing (though mostly nice prose, other times it just felt overly wordy).
Congrats to the author on this impactful debut novel, and thanks to publishers for opportunity to early review it
I must admit that I know close to nothing about table tennis but no prior knowledge is required to appreciate the lyricism of the prose or the puzzle box-like structure of the narrative.
The novel employs multiple POVs with each chapter being told from the perspective of a character who knows, or should I say, knew Ryan the table tennis prodigy. The story opens with his funeral and a sense that he had died too young, having only been in his 20s. The other chapters jump across the timeline, leaving it up to the readers to piece together the events of Ryan's life up till the moment of his death.
Ryan is the main character, but in his absence, the narrative makes do with fragmentary recounts of him as viewed from the outside, through lenses of envy, desire, resentment, obligation, love, or indifference. The result is that Ryan remains enigmatic, his motives only guessed at but impossible to know clearly. Even when the closing chapter shows us a snapshot of him as an ordinary guy on the street, it differs from the chapters in that there is no dive into his interiority to show us what he's thinking or how he's feeling. In his life as in his death, Ryan is inscrutable.
Thank you Netgalley for an ARC; all opinions are my own.
“Going Pro - Whose Dreams? Meaning of Life and Love? ”
Excelling at the top of any field is filled with a mix of sweetness, bitterness, struggle, and joy. The competition among prodigies is fierce, and the pressure is immense. This book captures many aspects of contemporary children’s inner worlds: their psychology, Asian cultural influences, the confusion of adolescence, and their questioning and exploration of life’s meaning and purpose.
I especially enjoyed the author’s distinctive narrative style. The story is told through the perspectives of people who interact with the protagonist—friends, coaches, students, referees—each reflecting different facets of table tennis training, competition, and the intense battles within world-class professional teams. It feels like a novel woven from many short pieces, approachable and easy to read at a brisk pace.
We chose this book for our family book club. It provides an excellent platform for parents and children to exchange ideas, discuss, communicate, and develop mutual understanding and empathy.
on paper this sounded like a perfect book for me and i was excited for a possible new favorite, however something fizzled out halfway through and the momentum was never reached again. still - i cant believe i read a book about table tennis.
What a beautiful, painful, extraordinary read. It almost felt like a blend between poetry and a traditional novel. The characters feel not quite real, almost liminal or blurry. We saw certain parts of them in sharp relief, but were left to imagine and fill in the abstract blanks because we don’t get to spend enough time with them. And their motivations, struggles, doubts are rarely explicitly described. I actually rather liked that.
The chapters which covered youthful relationships were so well done. I specifically recall the infighting amongst the top table, the friendship between Ryan and the young fellow largely abandoned by his parents who're off in India on business, and the chapters by a young girl and her distant, status obsessed mother. Navigating new social worlds, the anxieties that come with them and the tumultuous nature of young friendships felt so accurate and real. Particularly the youthful frenemy-esque nature of Ryan and Alvin's relationship.
My favorite character was the one that’s self aware of their self-loathing … (kidding). I will say, quite a number of them fit that description. My actual favorite chapter was Kristian’s. I began his section despising him. While my anger and frustration with him did not change much, I grew to see him with compassion and even care as well! I’m glad it was towards the end of the book, so we could develop our own judgements of him based on others viewpoints. And that it wasn’t the final chapter, which might imply he’s somehow entitled to the final word on our protagonist Ryan.
I particularly liked this excerpt from that chapter: “…how when I first started playing at eleven, when life was a suit of nails tight on my skin, I thought: If I am good today, let it be easier; if I win this match let me sleep tonight … I could have joined the military, or killed myself; instead, I played table tennis.”
I personally struggled with parsing some of the longer sentences and felt that detracted from the read. A multitude of commas, semicolons, dashes and what not, along with somewhat vague phrases and references meant some sentences escaped me even after 5 or more re-reads of them. Though, I may simply suffer from (or enjoy) TheBigDumb. Those protracted sentences often contained key insights, so I was doubly irked when I could not soak up all their meaning.
As a final sidenote, I was so disappointed with the Bundesliga therapist. Not the writing, nor the character, but the person I guess? I so badly hoped and wanted him to help Ryan unpack and work through his issues. And they came so tantalizingly close, especially given how Ryan prodded the therapist to share so their relationship didn’t feel so one-sided. I expected the therapist to then bring up Kristian, aware that he can both share his own experience and likely survey into Ryan’s relationship with him.
Underspin revolves around the rise and fall of Ryan Lo, a table tennis star. The story is told from the POV of Ryan’s friends, acquaintances, and admirers, through which we’re shown different facets of Ryan’s being, but never from Ryan himself. We get a glimpse of the inner world of competitive table tennis—brotherhood born out of necessity from shared trauma, the fragile balance and nebulousness of a coach/student relationship, tunnel vision of living and breathing a sport, and the inevitability of the isolation that follows when that sport is your entire identity and purpose. Ryan’s obsession is something that each character admires, but can’t fully understand, making him unreachable, more like myth than reality. Though it’s all-consuming, there’s solace in Ryan’s lonely but familiar world of eliteness. It’s a place of pain, anxiety, destruction, but it’s also the only place where he finds meaning. The distanced, bordering voyeuristic, tone in the writing shows just how untouchable Ryan’s world is.
Each chapter introduces a new POV, each authentic and distinct, but I wish each character had more depth. Rather than purely focusing on breadth of perspective, which reduced each voice’s role to simply being another audience member, some characters had their own stories worth diving deeper into. I recognize Zhao’s artistic choice in doing so to make the reader feel like an outsider looking in, but for me, the missing piece that would’ve made this story harder-hitting was dimensionality of the full cast of characters. As an aside, I got lost in some of the run-on passages which became disorienting at times. But when those tangents and metaphorical musings landed, the imagery and atmosphere evoked were vivid.
It’s easy to find stories about the glory of greatness, but Underspin is unique in that it unveils the oft overlooked, less glamorous costs of that greatness. Think along the lines of Perfect Blue and Whiplash, but for table tennis.
First of all, I did not expect to go into this book and walk away loving it as much as I did.
Second of all, whoever recommended this bc it was "similar to Marty Supreme" is a LIAR.
This novel's structure reminded me so much of "A Visit from the Goon Squad" by Jennifer Egan which I had the unfortunate experience of writing a 15 page paper about sophomore year. But where Egan seamlessly connects her chapters through well-placed motifs and callbacks, Zhao's writing feels a little disjointed. I think the issue is that some characters were just written better than others. You get invested into a storyline that abruptly drops away just as you want to dig in more, only to be forced to shift attention to another perspective that feels less than fully realized. For example, I loved Ellen and Anabel's chapters. But I was only slightly interested in the German doctor even though it provided a lot of backstory. But this structure was super ambitious and executed fairly well!
And the writing itself was cinematic. I had no interest or even basic knowledge of table tennis but I was hooked and understood everything for the most part. Zhao really captured the line between tension and desire when describing the matches. It was amazing and energizing to read. Another thing I loved was all the anime references. Super cute and yes I am also a Fruits Baskets fan.
The rare time I read anything to do with sports, it always raises the question of "what is motivation?" For athletes, to do what they do, requires so much sacrifice. And for what? Fame? Glory? Identity? In this novel, with it's shifting narrators and timelines the reasoning and motivations behind Ryan Lo are excavated in layers but by the end we still don't have a concrete picture which I was actually fine with. In the end, the absence of clarity felt less like a gap and more like a truth.
Overall, a must-pick up and even though I was in the mood for something like "Carrie Soto is Back" + Marty Supreme, I'm glad iI started it. Excited to pick up any future work by Zhao.