What do you think?
Rate this book


320 pages, Kindle Edition
Expected publication May 5, 2026
This is one of those books that resists being explained.
I kept trying, while reading, to pin it down. To say this is like this. People will compare it to Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, but it isn’t that. Not really. If anything, it drifts closer to something like Cloud Atlas or Cloud Cuckoo Land… that same sense of lives echoing across time, threads you can’t quite see yet but know are there, pulling everything together.
And even that doesn’t quite capture it.
Because Homebound doesn’t give itself to you easily.
It took me a long time to understand what was going on. Genuinely. I spent a good portion of this book slightly disoriented, trying to piece it together, wondering where I was, when I was, who I was following. But at some point… you stop resisting that. You let it unfold. And when it does, something clicks.
Not all at once. But enough.
What held me there, even in the confusion, was the writing.
It’s beautiful. Thoughtful. Full of these small, piercing observations that just sit with you.
“We run through life once, and when it’s over— when you hit an error— it’s just over, no one waiting to help you fix the mistakes.”
“I’m thinking about patience, and how, in order to have patience you have to have hope or faith, or some clear idea that it gets better.”
There’s something very human at the centre of all the shifting timelines, the technology, the structure. Grief. Connection. The strange, fragile way we hold on to each other across distance, across time.
“All energy in the universe is conserved, and I choose to believe that means you still exist, somehow.”
That made me stop.
The book keeps circling back to this idea of loops, of return, of things feeding into themselves. That sense of the ouroboros, the snake swallowing its own tail. Stories becoming stories becoming stories again.
“How many are the ways we have, to pass down the learning of our lives. How many are the ways we have, to return to one another.”
And underneath all of that, this quiet insistence on connection. On showing up. On choosing each other, even when it’s messy, even when it costs something.
“Do not let fear keep you from showing up where you are meant to be.”
I don’t think this is a book everyone will love. It asks a lot from you. Patience, trust, a willingness to sit in uncertainty without immediate reward.
But there is something here. Something intricate and unusual and… a little bit miraculous in how it comes together.
I finished it feeling slightly untethered, but also strangely full.
4.5★
Unusual, ambitious, and stunningly beautiful. One of those reading experiences that stays with you, even if you’re not entirely sure you can explain why.