I couldn't have received the arc for "I Will Always Love You (Maybe)" at a better time - snowed in, cosied up, with a warm cup of cinnamon-spiced tea in my hands. If I were searching for a more appropriate book to match my mood and my circumstance, I couldn't have possibly landed on a more appropriate one. This work felt like walking into your childhood home for the holidays, stepping through the door with your limbs half frozen, feeling the gush of hot air hit your face and fog up your glasses, and everything is so familiar, welcoming, but heavy.
This is a sapphic romance novel centred around two women dealing with the aftermath of their own grief in their unique, yet equally relatable ways, when their paths intersect and have them stuck together, forced to deal with and process it all. I have to say I am biased towards a good "forced proximity" trope, as watching two individuals interact in a scenario where they can't get away from one another, no matter how much they do or don't want to, creates the perfect ground for plot, character and romance development.
The pacing in "I Will Always Love You (Maybe)" is, for the most part, perfect. Slipping back and forth between "this is happening right now" and "this is a memory I need to recall", giving every crucial moment its rightful spotlight. As the book progresses, we have enough time to get introduced to the characters and their personalities, seeing them in the world without being told all about them, then moving into the stuck-together yearning, guilt, tension and romance with just enough drag that it feels natural and thoughtful and has you desperate for things to progress further. I wish that, by the end of the work, we had more time to sit in the consequences of the climax (spoiler-free), as things seemed to blow up, tense, resolve and come down within a span of 30 pages. Aside from that, the plot flowed organically, keeping you captivated and engaged. I read the book in its entirety over 2 days, never really wanting to put it down until I was done with it.
Here's what worked: the writing style was comforting, palatable, like a conversation with a close friend, easy to follow, understand and digest without being too simple or straightforward. It was precise, colloquial, but still very stimulating, descriptive and kind toward the reader. The characters themselves felt human, layered and real, just vivid enough that you can anticipate certain behaviours from them, not because they are predictable, but written so they are welcoming to get to know. They were alive, their stories and backgrounds felt intentional, their spaces and occupations and friendships and interests felt fitting and in line with who we knew them to be, rounding out this individual into a whole, creating their vibe, aesthetic and imprint in their respective world. Dana Hawkins touched on the themes she brought up in her work so gently, yet very honestly, sort of holding your hand while showing you the raw reality behind these very real-world, soul-crushing experiences people go through every day. I appreciated how she didn't shy away from showing the "ugly" side of mourning, and the maybe irrational and deeply private ways in which we deal with loss that often feel almost shameful and inappropriate. The book was well structured as well; the way in which the chapters moved, and the plot progression, made sense and weren't at any point confusing or questionable at all. The atmosphere was consistent, and the emotional impact of every interaction was appropriate and, again, intentional. At no point did I wonder "why am I reading this", "what is the purpose of this conversation" or "was this necessary".
What didn't work, for me personally, was the dual POV. This, however, is a personal preference. There was no issue with the writing itself; it is just my opinion that being in the head of both characters, especially in romance novels, takes away from the tension we are aiming to build with wondering if the other person feels the same way, and how they view everything that is happening between them and the other character. The extra suspense of not always knowing immediately what everyone is thinking and feeling adds greatly towards the actual romance feeling natural and real. Other than that, as I've mentioned above, I wish the last part of the book was a bit longer, giving us more insight into the actual happenings after the climax, the thoughts, feelings, hopes and fears, dragging it out a bit more as it probably seemed to drag in time to our characters as well.
All in all, I did genuinely really like this book. It gave me just what I was looking for during these holidays, and had me thinking about some themes and questions brought up about love, relationships, settling and honesty, that I wish to discuss eagerly with people in my personal life as well. I already recommended this work to my friends and loved ones, who will be reading it upon release in February, so I can talk about it with them without spoiling the beautiful work. I've heard only the best things about Dana's writing, and this work met and exceeded my expectations.
I'd recommend this book to anyone looking for some cosy, sapphic yearning, the cutest dog on the planet, and gut-wrenching revelations about letting things go and moving on.
As a final thought, I will note my appreciation to the author for not making coming out and queerness in that way, a focal point of her work. I believe it is necessary for the members of the LGBTQ+ community to read works where queerness is represented as accepted and normalised in that world and where no shame is being drawn around love and wanting to be loved.