A fierce and gorgeous debut novel about a teenager who runs away from her abusive home to live in a boarding house for single women as a global financial crash threatens the people of Seoul.
Set in Seoul in 2008, Tailbone follows the story of an unnamed teenage girl who, after years of struggling with her alcoholic father’s abuse and what she sees as her mother’s cowardice, decides to run away. At a boardinghouse for single women, the narrator is pulled into the orbit of one of the other girls living there: an older girl named Juju, whose beauty and grit offer anchorage in the narrator’s strange new life.
But when a global financial crisis reaches South Korea, fears of a wider economic collapse bring the city to a standstill. Everything the girls have come to rely on for survival--mainly, the patronage of wealthy men--is put at risk. As businesses close and winter sets in, the narrator is forced to reckon with her deepening fear for Juju’s future, and also her own uncertain path. Will she stay on the run or go back home to her heartbroken mother? In a city held captive to greed and desperation, what can a helpless woman like Juju teach her about survival? Will their hope for each other ignite courage or destruction?
A poignant tale about the impact of colonial and familial violence, class, privilege, and womanhood, Tailbone is a powerful and thrilling novel from a blazing new talent.
Che Yeun is a fiction writer who often explores loneliness, desperation, and survival in her work. Her short stories can be found in Granta, AGNI, Virginia Quarterly Review, the Kenyon Review Online, and elsewhere. She has received grants from Hedgebrook, the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation, and the David T. K. Wong Fellowship. TAILBONE is her debut novel.
This is poised to be a breakout debut novel from a writer whose short fiction has garnered praise and attention. Following an unnamed teenage girl who seeks safety from her abusive father in a boarding house for single women, Tailbone tells the story of two friends surviving a global financial crash, where survival relies on the patronage of wealthy men. By all accounts this sounds like the kind story of friendship, identity, and soul-searching that stays with you long after the last page. —S. Zainab Williams
can a city choke your loneliness out? if you've wanted to be left alone all your life, away from your alcoholic washed up dad, away from your weak mother; can that be possible in a city that whirls you into its muck corners and chaos? or will it just amplify it and the anger that comes with your breath? tailbone by che yeun delves into the rage, loneliness, despair, and frustrations of womanhood. when a girl runs away from her family, she is thrown into a city that knows no bounds. it is quite and loud; separated by a few hours and crowds, when in both atmospheres our character cannot escape the trail of what she left behind, the misery of her present life, and the looming fear of her uncertain future. in a quick, sharp, and brutal voice, yeun digs deep into a violent and harsh reality of women who don't have it all. in the midst of a financial crisis, we are pulled into the corners of seoul where our nameless character and the women around her struggle financially, emotionally, socially, and physically. this novel felt like a powerful pull; nothing but drawing me in the more i read. whether it was the metaphorical connections of the character's past to the women's current situations, or the emotions that lie between the lines of yeun's prose, tailbone is a bold telling of women's endurance in a world of violence and loneliness that wraps you up to strangle you. truly an incredible, powerful, and mesmerizing debut that projects the hurt, anger, loneliness, and need for connection and comfort that women constantly feel in an original story i couldn't get enough of and made me face my own feelings.
tailbone by che yeun will be out april 7th, 2026 thank you to the publishers for gifting me this mesmerizing debut
"no matter how weak i felt, no matter how many people touched me like a sludge in a ditch, I would still make this life happen. I wasn't sure why the world would ever need someone like that to exist. But I needed me to exist."
Che Yuen coming in with a poignant debut about loneliness, girlhood, self-preservation, privilege and poverty, where the drain smells sour.
An unnamed 17yr old narrator living in Seoul runs away from her abusive dad and weak (in the narrator’s eyes) mother to a rundown woman’s boarding house with no plan and no money. During the 2008 global financial crisis it’s all about survival.
Such a stunning, character driven read with a tight narrative. I was locked in from beginning to end. Although the majority of the story is centered in one place, it was a wild perilous journey. For months we watch the narrator try to understand and observe the world around her while simply put, just existing. She is remarkably average and one of the reasons I enjoyed her character so much. One of the older girls she befriends, Juju (sex worker), is a protective and quite complex character giving their friendship a unique dynamic. Each stuck in their own tortuous cycles; will they fail, claw their way out or keep circling the drain?
I took the train into one of these ghost neighborhoods. Only fifteen subway stations away from my childhood, and yet an unrecognizable world. Where I could peel off the skin of my birth. Unplug from my matrix. I found a cheap tangle of alleyways to hide me.
Slowly, my gaze drifted over to my side...I finally locked eyes with myself. Until I did, I hadn't fully believed I would, that anyone would still be there to return the stare. But she was definitely there, even a little impatient. Where were you, she blinked. All this time I'd been looking away, she had never stopped waiting for me.
DNF at 50%. The dialogue was engaging, but at some point, it got as repetitive as the descriptions of the setting. In an attempt to be naturalist, everything just felt so mundane.
In the vein of Young-ha Kim, the book flawlessly explores the raw nature of the world wrapped in elegant, enchanting prose. This book gives the reader an intimate viewing of a lost, aimlessly wandering life in a manner that makes the reader feel as if they're secretly there; as if they should almost feel uncomfortable with the access provided to the lives of the people involved.
This book was painfully boring. Our narrator is a teenage, high school drop out who leaves her parents to move into a rooming house where she spends her days loafing around, eating chicken skewers and cup noodles. The most exciting thing she does over the course of the book is unclog a shower drain. The only other characters of importance are one of her housemates, Juju, and her customer, Min. Those two have an extremely toxic relationship which creates the only spark in the entire book.
Tailbone by Che Yeun follows an unnamed narrator who flees her family home at seventeen, escaping into the sweltering summer of 2008 in Seoul. She finds refuge in a women’s only lodging house, scraping by on very little money and gradually becoming entangled in the lives and work of the other women around her.
There’s an emotional core here—the narrator’s longing for a stable, loving family is deeply felt, especially against the backdrop of her mother’s own sense of being lost and trapped. However, the novel leans heavily into stillness, and at times it feels like not much actually happens. While it’s an easy, atmospheric read, the lack of deeper character development made it difficult to fully connect. Overall, a good read, but one that feels like it’s missing some emotional depth.
Thank you @bloomsburybooksus for the free copy and @librofm for the free audiobook 💖.
This novel is emotional and really makes you think about the bittersweet side of life and what survival actually costs. The audiobook (just under 8 hours) is beautifully narrated by Jessica Lee, who perfectly captures the narrator’s naive, messy voice at the start and gradually brings out her growing awareness by the end. It all feels very natural, never overdone. I definitely enjoyed the immersive read.
The story follows a teenage girl (whose name we never learn), who runs away from an abusive home and ends up in a boarding house for single women in Seoul as a financial crisis looms. There, she forms a close bond with another woman, and through their relationship and shared struggles, she starts to see life in a completely new way.
At first, leaving home feels like freedom, like she’s finally in control. But she slowly realizes the outside world isn’t safer, it’s just dangerous in different ways. She begins to understand that survival isn’t just about escaping; it comes with tradeoffs, compromises, and consequences that aren’t always obvious at first.
It’s a really moving coming of age story about survival, womanhood, and losing your illusions. We all go through this at some point in our lives. It captures that moment in life when you realize there are no perfect choices, just the strength to keep going. The ending is very much open ended, but the novel makes its point very clear.
4⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Read if you like: ✨Literary fiction ✨Coming of age ✨Seoul, Korea setting ✨Reflections on womanhood and survival
Tail Bone is a haunting and lyrical debut. Che Yeun’s prose is spare yet powerful, giving the story an intimacy that feels both raw and carefully controlled. As a first novel, it’s an impressive and confident writing that leaves me hoping there is more to come.
At first glance, a 19th-century first mate and a teenage girl in 2008 Seoul share nothing. One is trapped in a whaleboat in the vast South Pacific; the other is trapped in a boarding house amidst a collapsing global economy. Yet, both Owen Chase and Che Yeun have produced masterclasses in psychological erosion.
The Internal Erasure of Truth
In both books, the external crisis—a shipwreck or a financial crash—is merely the catalyst. The true story is the "internal erasure." In Chase’s account, we see the disintegration of the moral compass as starvation forces the crew into a "cringe-worthy" reality where they must eat their own to survive. In Tailbone, the narrator experiences a similar stripping away of her humanity. As the economy fails, her world narrows into an "isolation echo chamber," where her only truth is the immediate necessity of the next meal or the next night’s safety.
The Weight of Isolation
Both authors capture the specific "cringe" of the survivor—the awkward, painful guilt of those who remain when others have been lost. Chase’s prose is heavy with the "what-ifs" of his navigation choices, a ghost that follows him throughout the text. Yeun’s narrator carries a similar weight, living as a "vestigial" part of society (the namesake Tailbone), feeling the phantom pain of a family and a future she had to abandon.
The Verdict
Whether it is the "malice" of a sperm whale or the cold indifference of a global market, both works suggest that the human spirit is remarkably resilient—but that such resilience comes at a permanent cost. These are not books about "winning"; they are books about remaining. Chase and Yeun both prove that when truth is erased by necessity, what is left behind is often a heartbreaking, jagged version of the person who started the journey. Does this "original" take on the shared psychological themes of the two books capture what you found most compelling about them?
A teenager decides she's had enough of her fathers drinking and her mother not standing up for herself and so she decides the best course of action is to run away. When she runs away she finds a house share, where the landlady only rents out to women, and those women are prostituting themselves. The teenager builds a strong connection with one of the women named Juju, and while Juju does her best to persuade her not to go down this route with her life, she does explain how she can easily get money by signing paperwork for loans and making her parents the guarantors on those loans.
I'm sorry to say but this story was boring, it was all too repetitive I felt a lot of the time the main character was just busy eating clementines and chicken skewers, there was really no character development from the teenager's point of view, she wasn't actively looking to find any work, she was willing to financial abuse her parents by making them guarantors and she was willing to steal from Juju. This book just wasn't for me, it was hard to read because I just kept thinking where was this heading, and it didn't go anywhere. At times the main character would reflect about her childhood, like when she talked about going on holiday and painting her nails, however it was completely irrelevant to the story and didn't have any hidden meanings, just felt like random thoughts. I would of loved to see her being more active in trying to better her life, taking inspiration of what not to do and just do better for herself.
Tailbone is a heartbreaking novel of an unnamed teenage girl living in Seoul, South Korea. The narrator has left her family to live in a rundown home in a gritty neighbourhood, where other single young women huddle together, spending their days smoking cigarettes and watching the world pass by from their windows and sometimes the rooftop. This novel is lush and tactile in its treatment of mundanity. The damp permeates. The drain smells sour. The fresh taste of a clementine or the nourishment of chicken broth breaks through the bleak surroundings. I hoped for these young women and kept reading to find out where they would land. Would they help each other strive for better, or would they all sink together?
For a debut author this was good, not great. This was a gritty story set in Seoul, Korea right before the 2008 stock market crash. We follow an unnamed teenage girl who runaways and lives in a boardinghouse for single women who work entering wealthy men. We flashback to life before she ran away and jump back to present day where life is hard and isn’t going how she thought at all. The book did just end with little to no resolution, which I always find frustrating.
It was interesting to read about life in Korea in 2008. Not the upper class, crazy rich Asian life, but the lower class, poor life. It was a hard read, but it felt like an honest read. Like if I walked down the street in Seoul, these were things I would see and I appreciate that.
Wow. Set is Seoul. We follow a teenage girl who leaves an alcoholic father and a weak mother. Runs away to find herself in a shabby boarding house for girls and is befriended by an older girl, Juju. We never knot the girl's' name by the way. There is so much packed into this story it's difficult for me to break it down. I wanted so much for "The Girl". She is confident of a future, lies about a future, regrets leaving home, and celebrates leaving home. Che Yeun writes beautifully.
Thank you to Bloomsbury for a copy of Tailbone. I am not always the biggest fan of litfic but this one wasn’t bad. I enjoyed getting to see a little bit of a glimpse into the not so sunny parts of Korea. I think as Americans, we often romanticize places in Asia like Japan or South Korea, so it was a good reminder that terrible things can happen to people anywhere. This is a big character based book with not a lot of plot. The ending was very open ended as well.
very good -- compelling voice, exciting sentences, a real hand with the dramatic. it took me a while to commit to the first few chapters but once i was there i was sold hard. could it have ended two or three chapters earlier.... maybe, but we can't have everything. thrilling tbh!
*arc provided by netgalley in exchange for an honest review*
A strong character driven debut novel! I was fully immersed in the story, but I can see how this won't be for everyone. I listened to the audio in a couple of hours and feel like I've been to Seoul and back!
This wasn’t for me I almost DNF’d it but I fell asleep with it on and woke up to a really interesting part that made me hopeful for the story to get better. So I rewound it and trudged forward, this turned out to be pretty okay.
“Success could never slice into you the way failure could. Pride could never find your guts the way shame could. Shame broke you down into rocks and then into pebbles and then into sand”
Okay, I'm so glad that others have loved this book. However, I have to say I'm not a fan. I finished the book and I don't know that I'd recommend it to anyone.
this is not a plot driven book. this is about a teenage girl who spends time thinking of who she could be, who she should be, and trying to find her place in a world not made for women.
another “teenage girl escapes a suffocating childhood home, gaining freedom and losing whimsy” story. quick read with likeable (although largely forgettable) characters. basically it’s about a girl who just kinda…thinks about things.
Set in Seoul, Korea, this coming of age story centers on an unnamed narrator, a teenage girl, who runs away from home. Her father is abusive and her mother stands by doing nothing. So she runs off and finds herself at a women’s boardinghouse. There she finds friendship with an older girl, Juju. Juju, like many other Turks there, rely on “companionship” of wealthy men to help make ends meet. But I. 2008, even the wealthy are hit by the financial crisis that puts the survival of these women at risk.
This was a raw story of survival and friendship between 2 unlikely friends who vine from different backgrounds. I loved how their friendship developed as well as how we, as readers, experience wealth and privilege, family dynamics and female struggles through this young narrator’s perspective.
Thank you to @librofm and @bloomsburypublishing for a #gifted audio version of this novel.
TAILBONE by Che Yeun 𝘛𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦, Yeun’s debut, is told by an unnamed teenage girl in 2008 South Korea. She’s fled her home and is renting a single room in a decrepit boarding house for women. Many of the others living there are sex workers and this narrator becomes particular friends with one. The story takes place over the months of the financial crisis and documents the day to day lives of the pair and the harsh realities of their lives. There’s no getting around it, this book was dark and leaned toward depressing, but I can handle dark and depressing. What was more difficult for me was the fact that so little really happened, or more to the point, the same things happened over and over. Though I know that was with intent on Yeun’s part I still grew weary. She was showing how few options young women have out on their own, without much education, and no real support or plan. I felt for them, but never really grew invested in their plights. The writing was very evocative and did a remarkable job showing the underbelly of Seoul in that era. I really felt like I was there and the parts in the boarding house were similarly visceral. It was that writing that kept me turning the pages, but it wasn’t enough to make me fall into this story. I needed more to happen or maybe just a little more hope. 📘Thanks to @bloomsburypublishing for an electronic copy of this book.
Tailbone is a beautifully crafted descent into the soul of what it means to be free.
Not the cheap freedom of rights and laws, but the raw, bloody kind we actually crave. The kind that demands selfishness for all the right reasons. Forcing you to see the world without flinching, clawing your way out of its grip, even when the claws are your own family, your own history. No matter how much flesh tears in the process.
Che Yeun doesn’t hand you a heroic escape story. She hands you something far more honest: a teenage girl in 2008 Seoul who runs not because she has a plan, but because staying would kill something essential in her.
What follows is a haunting, unflinching portrait of what real freedom costs.
The novel moves through boarding houses and financial collapse, through fragile friendships and the quiet violence of being a poor young girl in a country still trying to forget its own wounds.
Every page feels like skin being pulled back.
What stayed with me most is how little the book romanticizes survival. Freedom here isn’t triumphant. It’s messy. It’s lonely. It’s learning to take up space in a world that would rather you disappear. It’s choosing yourself when every instinct and every person around you has taught you that’s the one thing you’re not allowed to do. Yeun writes with a kind of tenderness that makes the brutality hurt more, not less. Her prose are surgical and cut deep, like someone who’s been there and knows exactly where the nerve endings are.
I loved this novel.
Not in the polite, “that was well done” way. I loved it in the way that makes you sit with the book closed for a long time afterward, feeling the echo of every choice the narrator had to make.
It reminded me that the most radical act isn’t rebellion for its own sake. It’s the quiet, stubborn decision to stop apologizing for wanting to live on your own terms.
If you’ve ever felt the world’s claws in your skin and wondered what it would take to finally pull free, read this book. It won’t give you easy answers.It will give you something better: the rare, unsettling feeling that someone has seen the darkest parts and written them with both honesty and grace.
A stunning debut. I’ll be thinking about it for a long time