A haunting and tender debut about guilt, grief, and the unexpected places we go to find redemption.
When thirty-year-old Conner Robbins hits and kills a cyclist, no one blames him—a freak accident, they say. But he can’t stop blaming himself. Conner is consumed by guilt, and begins to shut himself off from the people who care about him, risking his closest relationships and a career he no longer feels he deserves.
In the weeks following the accident, Conner finds an unexpected sense of solace in an unlikely a budding friendship with Lauren, the mother of the young man he killed. But as their connection deepens, they begin to neglect the people and responsibilities in their own lives. Now, both Conner and Lauren must confront the truth about their relationship: is it a path toward healing, or are they simply prolonging the pain?
Tender, intimate, and emotionally resonant, I'm the Undertow is a stunning debut about guilt, grace, and the complicated ways we try to move forward after loss.
I loved it! I kept wanting to get back to the story and wondered how things would turn out. For me, that’s one true sign of a great read. It’s a little bit of a slow burn through the middle but I believe structuring things differently or quickening the pacing would’ve been a mistake. Form and function are interrelated here for meaningful reasons. If you like character stories about hurt and heart, you’ll love this book.
Thank you to NetGalley, the author and Central Avenue Publishing for providing me with an advance review copy of I’m the Undertow by Eric Scot Tryon. I truly appreciate the opportunity to read and review this powerful and emotionally resonant debut ahead of publication.
I’m grateful for the chance to engage with such a thoughtful exploration of guilt, grief, and healing, and for the continued support NetGalley and the author offer to readers and reviewers in bringing meaningful stories to a broader audience.
I’m the Undertow is a quiet, devastating debut that doesn’t rely on shock or spectacle to leave a mark. Instead, it sinks in slowly, much like grief itself, pulling the reader into an emotionally intimate exploration of guilt, loss, and the messy, uncomfortable ways people search for redemption.
The novel opens with a moment that changes everything. Thirty-year-old Conner Robbins is involved in a tragic accident that kills a cyclist. No one blames him. It’s ruled a freak accident. Life, technically, is supposed to move on. But Conner can’t let himself off the hook. His guilt is all-consuming, corrosive, and isolating, and Tryon captures this internal collapse with brutal honesty. Conner doesn’t spiral loudly; he withdraws, detaches, and quietly sabotages his relationships and career because he no longer feels worthy of them.
What sets this book apart is the unexpected and morally complex relationship that forms next. In the weeks following the accident, Conner strikes up a connection with Lauren, the mother of the young man who died. On paper, this sounds impossible, maybe even inappropriate, but the author handles it with remarkable sensitivity. Their bond isn’t sensationalised or romanticised; it’s fragile, raw, and deeply human. They recognise something broken in each other, and that shared pain becomes both a refuge and a risk.
As their friendship deepens, the novel asks uncomfortable questions. Can two people who share the same trauma truly help each other heal? Or can grief, when mirrored, become a place to hide rather than a path forward? Watching Conner and Lauren slowly neglect their own lives and responsibilities is painful but believable. The book never offers easy answers, and that restraint is one of its greatest strengths.
Stylistically, the writing is tender and restrained. Tryon doesn’t over-explain emotions or manipulate the reader into feeling something dramatic. Instead, the prose is intimate and understated, allowing small moments, silences, unfinished conversations, and internal hesitations to carry emotional weight. The result is a story that feels deeply personal, almost confessional at times.
This is not a fast-paced or plot-driven novel. Readers looking for dramatic twists or tidy resolutions may find it slow. But for those who appreciate character-driven, emotionally resonant storytelling, I’m the Undertow delivers something far more lasting. It understands that grief isn’t linear, healing isn’t clean, and redemption rarely arrives in the ways we expect.
Overall, I’m the Undertow is a haunting and compassionate debut about guilt, grace, and the difficult work of moving forward after loss. It’s a novel that sits with you quietly, heavily long after the final page, asking you to consider how we live with the things we cannot undo.
I’m the Undertow by Eric Scott Tryon is one of those quiet, emotional reads that sneaks up on you.
At its core, this is a story about guilt—and what happens when you can’t outrun it. Conner’s life is changed in an instant after a tragic accident, and what follows isn’t a fast-paced unraveling, but a slow, heavy descent into grief and self-blame. You really feel the weight of it.
What stood out to me most is how intimate this book feels. The relationship between Conner and Lauren is complicated in a way that might make some readers uncomfortable—but that’s exactly what makes it work. It’s not clean, it’s not easy, and it’s definitely not what you expect. It walks that fine line between healing and avoidance, and you’re constantly questioning which direction they’re actually going.
The pacing is on the slower side, but it fits the story. This isn’t meant to be rushed. It’s very character-driven, very introspective, and leans more literary than plot-heavy. If you’re someone who needs constant action or twists, this may not fully land—but if you like sitting in the emotional complexity of a story, this one delivers.
It’s tender, a little haunting, and honestly pretty thought-provoking. It makes you think about grief, forgiveness, and how far people will go to try to make peace with something that can’t be undone.
Overall, this felt like a slow emotional pull rather than a dramatic ride—and I think that’s exactly what the author intended.
The heaviness in this book can make things a little rough at some points. At 30, Conner is young enough that he has most of his life ahead of him, but just old enough that he has some life experience. Being a driver in a freak accident that kills a cyclist put him in the middle of a major depressive episode. While no one blames him, they also don't understand the way he has fallen into a funk and cannot seem to function in daily life. It ends up costing him in every aspect of his life, but he doesn't even care. The mother of the cyclist reaches out, and they fall into this unlikely kind of support group for two. This leads the book through a lot of introspection, which can feel a little slow, but appropriate for the story and the character arc. I did find myself rooting for him and wondering how much he will lose before the story ends. The book is well written, and I highly recommend if you're in the headspace for the subject matter.
Amazing from start to finish. I couldn't put this book down. The characters are deep and thought provoking, both likable and frustrating all at the same time. Truly masterful work by Tryon.
For a debut novel, the writing shows the care and craft of a seasoned veteran. Tryon paints such a vivid picture of a sleepy town that I felt as though I had spent my entire life there. His imagery is delicate and delightful, drawing the reader fully into the setting and atmosphere without ever feeling forced.
When I reached the final pages, I found myself wanting more. For me, that is the clearest sign of a great novel. I Am the Undertow lingers long after you finish it. I cannot wait to see what E.S.T. comes up with next.
The writing is atmospheric and introspective, focusing less on action and more on emotional depth. Characters feel raw and flawed, making their struggles feel real, though the pacing can be slow at times. It’s a book that lingers, leaving you unsettled and reflective rather than neatly resolved.
Overall: A dark, thought-provoking read best suited for readers who enjoy psychological depth and emotional complexity over fast-paced plot.
I’m the Undertow is an awesome novel that allows you to deeply connect with the characters and places (especially if you love the Central Coast!). This book makes you realize no relationship is impossible, because there are moments in life when the person you need by your side is the one you had never imagined.
I loved the perfectly crafted lines that made you laugh, cringe and hold your breath. Those lines you have to read over and over.
Wow…this character driven story took me in right away, held me to the end, and actually hasn’t let me go. Eric Scot Tryon’s storytelling skill to create pictures in your mind, to move you to feel the emotion of the moment, and to elicit a caring for the characters, is absolutely amazing! I highly recommend reading I’m the Undertow, it will take you on a ride!
This one was just ok for me. The novel explores grief and redemption. The story heads in an unexpected direction, but I never felt that the relationship was fully explored. A couple of characters, a witness and a reporter, were introduced, but their involvement was never fleshed out, so they seemed irrelevant. I don't think I would recommend this novel to friends/family.
Loved the book. In an instant, lead character Connor’s former self is gone. His ambitions, relationships, even his anonymity are swept away. The small town setting adds to his struggles. His grief and guilt pull him further from everything he once knew. But then, a lifeline…from a most unexpected relationship. A compelling story and great writing!
“I’m the Undertow” is an emotional page-turner. When I had to put it down, I couldn’t wait to get back to it. Filled with truly relatable dialog and compelling scenarios, this novel digs deep into both guilt and grief.
fantastically well-written and unique book focused on the aftereffects of a tragic accident on both the other party and the family of the victim. 5 stars. tysm for the arc.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley. Thanks Netgalley.
I enjoyed this book, but it was difficult to read at times. It was depressing and slow, but not in a bad way. It was hard because it is tough subject matter. The author needed to make it that way to show the reader how depressed the character was. No one else understood, until finally he meets someone who does. Then that relationship becomes complicated. If you like stories about feelings, emotions, guilt, human stuff... then this novel will give you a lot of food for thought.
There is a hypnotic quality to Tyron's prose. Sombre and discomforting, the narration leaves the reader feeling hollow as they watch Connor go adrift in grief. The scrambled timeline following the tragedy was particularly memorable.
Amazing character-driven story that churns up images and emotions on its path of discovery following unimaginable tragedy. All original and freshly told, it becomes a real page-turner to see what happens next. Can’t wait for the second novel from this talented author!