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Ferry Tales: A Novel
240 pages, Paperback
Published September 29, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
September 28, 2026
Ferry Tales is the wildly beautiful, poetically powerful story of Anana Freedman, a strong, educated Black woman choosing to connect with her African ancestry. Through author Abrea Armstrong’s writing, we see Anana navigate her relationship with Africa, her heritage, and her Blackness.
As a Millennial woman, Anana carries the hyper-awareness of a generation, (the skepticism of corporate wellness, the exhaustion of digital noise, the weight of curated identities), yet she is stripping all of that away to reach for something older, deeper, and infinitely more grounded. To witness her step into her Blackness leaves me awestruck: It feels like witnessing someone quietly, deliberately reclaiming a kingdom. It is not a performance. It is a homecoming.
As a white woman, I am keenly aware of my position as an outsider to this specific grief and this specific glory. I can only stand on the periphery, completely captivated by the sheer gravity of Anana’s (Abrea’s) self-discovery. Her journey isn't just about looking backward; it is a radical, forward-facing act of love that commands reverence.
Abrea Armstrong’s book reads like a memoir. It’s completely, utterly captivating. She describes the beauty and history of Africa in rich detail, bringing to life the people she meets along the way. With refreshing candor, she weaves humor, heartbreak, and cultural reclamation into an unforgettable journey. What a fantastic debut novel!
Thank you to author Abrea Armstrong, Red Hen Press, and Edelweiss+ for the opportunity to read this book.
I received an Advance Reader Copy for free. I am leaving this review voluntarily.
As a Millennial woman, Anana carries the hyper-awareness of a generation, (the skepticism of corporate wellness, the exhaustion of digital noise, the weight of curated identities), yet she is stripping all of that away to reach for something older, deeper, and infinitely more grounded. To witness her step into her Blackness leaves me awestruck: It feels like witnessing someone quietly, deliberately reclaiming a kingdom. It is not a performance. It is a homecoming.
As a white woman, I am keenly aware of my position as an outsider to this specific grief and this specific glory. I can only stand on the periphery, completely captivated by the sheer gravity of Anana’s (Abrea’s) self-discovery. Her journey isn't just about looking backward; it is a radical, forward-facing act of love that commands reverence.
Abrea Armstrong’s book reads like a memoir. It’s completely, utterly captivating. She describes the beauty and history of Africa in rich detail, bringing to life the people she meets along the way. With refreshing candor, she weaves humor, heartbreak, and cultural reclamation into an unforgettable journey. What a fantastic debut novel!
Thank you to author Abrea Armstrong, Red Hen Press, and Edelweiss+ for the opportunity to read this book.
I received an Advance Reader Copy for free. I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Review of advance copy
I love the premise of this book. The idea of a young millennial discovering so much about herself through a trip to Senegal. For those of us who are descendants of enslaved Africans here in America, most have not had the opportunity to reconnect with where our ancestors came from. Often, we don’t have enough information to go beyond the records of when they were first enslaved.
The main character Anana is a mess. She drinks too much with a foul mouth. However, she loves her best friend and her grandmother fiercely. Anana describes, in an almost lyrical way, the powerful impact that a trip like that can have. The narrative starts with a lot of self reflection. The author’s references to things like Britney Spears, TRL, and 106 & Park really connected me with that millennial generation. Also, as a North Carolina native, the setting and Southern influence were relatable.
As the narrative progresses, instead of remaining lyrical, it becomes more like general fiction. I was really impressed that this was a debut novel and I look forward to reading Armstrong’s next work.
This ARC was provided by the publisher Red Hen Press via NetGalley. Thoughts and opinions are my own.
The main character Anana is a mess. She drinks too much with a foul mouth. However, she loves her best friend and her grandmother fiercely. Anana describes, in an almost lyrical way, the powerful impact that a trip like that can have. The narrative starts with a lot of self reflection. The author’s references to things like Britney Spears, TRL, and 106 & Park really connected me with that millennial generation. Also, as a North Carolina native, the setting and Southern influence were relatable.
As the narrative progresses, instead of remaining lyrical, it becomes more like general fiction. I was really impressed that this was a debut novel and I look forward to reading Armstrong’s next work.
This ARC was provided by the publisher Red Hen Press via NetGalley. Thoughts and opinions are my own.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Unfortunately, I didn't like this book. I didn't like the FMC, and the storyline was not for me.
One of the things I hated most was the use of 'Africa' as a country with stereotypes and all. I expected better from a Black author. It was hypocritical that white people's stereotypes and racism against black people were frowned against, and in turn, the same was done by a black woman in Senegal.
In addition, the FMC had no previous connections with Senegal. It was like the author just threw a dart at the map. It would have made sense if Anana had done a DNA test or something.
Anyway, it was not my favourite book.
One of the things I hated most was the use of 'Africa' as a country with stereotypes and all. I expected better from a Black author. It was hypocritical that white people's stereotypes and racism against black people were frowned against, and in turn, the same was done by a black woman in Senegal.
In addition, the FMC had no previous connections with Senegal. It was like the author just threw a dart at the map. It would have made sense if Anana had done a DNA test or something.
Anyway, it was not my favourite book.
September 22, 2026
Thank you NetGalley and Red Hen Press for this advanced reader’s copy of Abrea Armstrong’s novel Ferry Tales in exchange for an honest review. My words are my own.
This novel focuses on a young Black woman’s spontaneous journey from New York City to Senegal for her best friend’s wedding, prompting a desire to form an ancestral connection with her “Motherland”. A self proclaimed millennial, main character Anana integrates stream of consciousness sentences with italicized contemporary shorthand (IRL, SMHL, NGL, FR, etc.). The story wobbles between innumerable generalized references to Africa as a continent and sporadic thoughts on melanin. Within this are mediated interfaces with international culture through things like Airbnb experiences, upscale American clubs, financed trips to restaurants, tailored shopping, and culinary exploits at private homes rather than public settings. During all of this Anana successfully seeks out popular American music, high end fashion, and the staples of her New York City life, like Hennessy. Regardless of this deeply camouflaged rendition of Senegalese life, Anana consistently experiences life altering (and eye rolling) moments of spiritual clarity.
I had a number of issues with this book but I narrowed it down to these three: Anana’s experience with Black culture was so heavily mediated by mainstream materialism it was nearly impossible to parse a non-white identity, the generalizations the character made about Black transatlantic reality were at best ignorant and at worst racist, and there was no actual character-based impetus for her desire for a deeper understanding of Black heritage. From the start it is difficult to locate authenticity in Anana’s character because of the privilege that facilities her trip. She painfully describes the Lincoln town car she takes to the airport, the designer carry-on luggage she packs, the moleskin journal she bought - almost as if someone staged everything. Her declarations of self exploration originate from a comfortable distance, filtered through privilege & materialism. None of it seems genuine or stemming from a unique sense of identity; it is pre-manufactured and could have been had by a person of any ethnicity.
It is also problematic that the author’s stated intent is for her character is to make an “ancestral journey” to “return to the Motherland”; overtly is her reference to Africa as a continent, secondary is the lack of Anana’s connection to it. For instance, there’s no family kinship to any specific region, there’s no DNA revelation that would indicate a link, the primary figure in her life, her great-grandmother, doesn’t tell her any stories or follow any traditions that originate from a specific region. The only explanation given is a general review of Black peoples’ realities in U.S. history, mostly linked to food, but from an abstract rather than individual perspective. The only unifying things she aligns herself with repeatedly throughout the book is metropolitan nightlife. She emphasizes wanting to be on African soil when she gets to Dakar but her first priority upon arrival is to get to a bar called Miami Nights. When she sees the bottle of Hennessy she praises god, says she wants to “cry with relief”, and calls it her safety blanket. One of her primary focuses there, as with other parts of the book, is admiring the European/American designer fashion. This could not more powerfully signify Western capitalistic influence on Senegalese culture or indicate how far from a “sojourn to the Motherland” Anana’s focus is. Instead of seeking a connection to her environment, Anana rushes towards the bar looking for a drink, saying “I had been chasing this moment for thousands of miles” (45). These recurrent events warp any progress Anana seems to achieve.
More problematic than consistently referring to Africa as a continent is reinforcing dangerous racialized stereotypes. While riding in a car Anana says, “when you think of Africa, does traffic factor into your mental image?”. This reiterates bigoted American notions of African countries as lacking modern urbanization. It also foregoes the vast distinctions between geographical regions, making it sound like the entire continent is a safari. Equally concerning are Anana’s sentiments when she leaves her phone in a cab. She says, “Don’t tell me the stereotypes are true that everyone in Africa is a thief or a scammer. That can’t be true. But alas…it seemed to be. Yahoo boys and pickpockets” (90). For me, this moment was the transition from poor writing to dangerous rhetoric. Previously, there was a muddying of cultural identity with materialism into what I felt like was a spasmodic frenzy of a book. However, once the author started infusing a bizarre character with inexcusable slurs, I felt genuine worry about the ramifications of what an uneducated readership might glean from messages like this. I and others know to reject these notions. But if I gave this book to my students they would think it was permissible to sustain these sentiments, especially because they’re being expressed by a writer of color. I would not recommend this book.
This novel focuses on a young Black woman’s spontaneous journey from New York City to Senegal for her best friend’s wedding, prompting a desire to form an ancestral connection with her “Motherland”. A self proclaimed millennial, main character Anana integrates stream of consciousness sentences with italicized contemporary shorthand (IRL, SMHL, NGL, FR, etc.). The story wobbles between innumerable generalized references to Africa as a continent and sporadic thoughts on melanin. Within this are mediated interfaces with international culture through things like Airbnb experiences, upscale American clubs, financed trips to restaurants, tailored shopping, and culinary exploits at private homes rather than public settings. During all of this Anana successfully seeks out popular American music, high end fashion, and the staples of her New York City life, like Hennessy. Regardless of this deeply camouflaged rendition of Senegalese life, Anana consistently experiences life altering (and eye rolling) moments of spiritual clarity.
I had a number of issues with this book but I narrowed it down to these three: Anana’s experience with Black culture was so heavily mediated by mainstream materialism it was nearly impossible to parse a non-white identity, the generalizations the character made about Black transatlantic reality were at best ignorant and at worst racist, and there was no actual character-based impetus for her desire for a deeper understanding of Black heritage. From the start it is difficult to locate authenticity in Anana’s character because of the privilege that facilities her trip. She painfully describes the Lincoln town car she takes to the airport, the designer carry-on luggage she packs, the moleskin journal she bought - almost as if someone staged everything. Her declarations of self exploration originate from a comfortable distance, filtered through privilege & materialism. None of it seems genuine or stemming from a unique sense of identity; it is pre-manufactured and could have been had by a person of any ethnicity.
It is also problematic that the author’s stated intent is for her character is to make an “ancestral journey” to “return to the Motherland”; overtly is her reference to Africa as a continent, secondary is the lack of Anana’s connection to it. For instance, there’s no family kinship to any specific region, there’s no DNA revelation that would indicate a link, the primary figure in her life, her great-grandmother, doesn’t tell her any stories or follow any traditions that originate from a specific region. The only explanation given is a general review of Black peoples’ realities in U.S. history, mostly linked to food, but from an abstract rather than individual perspective. The only unifying things she aligns herself with repeatedly throughout the book is metropolitan nightlife. She emphasizes wanting to be on African soil when she gets to Dakar but her first priority upon arrival is to get to a bar called Miami Nights. When she sees the bottle of Hennessy she praises god, says she wants to “cry with relief”, and calls it her safety blanket. One of her primary focuses there, as with other parts of the book, is admiring the European/American designer fashion. This could not more powerfully signify Western capitalistic influence on Senegalese culture or indicate how far from a “sojourn to the Motherland” Anana’s focus is. Instead of seeking a connection to her environment, Anana rushes towards the bar looking for a drink, saying “I had been chasing this moment for thousands of miles” (45). These recurrent events warp any progress Anana seems to achieve.
More problematic than consistently referring to Africa as a continent is reinforcing dangerous racialized stereotypes. While riding in a car Anana says, “when you think of Africa, does traffic factor into your mental image?”. This reiterates bigoted American notions of African countries as lacking modern urbanization. It also foregoes the vast distinctions between geographical regions, making it sound like the entire continent is a safari. Equally concerning are Anana’s sentiments when she leaves her phone in a cab. She says, “Don’t tell me the stereotypes are true that everyone in Africa is a thief or a scammer. That can’t be true. But alas…it seemed to be. Yahoo boys and pickpockets” (90). For me, this moment was the transition from poor writing to dangerous rhetoric. Previously, there was a muddying of cultural identity with materialism into what I felt like was a spasmodic frenzy of a book. However, once the author started infusing a bizarre character with inexcusable slurs, I felt genuine worry about the ramifications of what an uneducated readership might glean from messages like this. I and others know to reject these notions. But if I gave this book to my students they would think it was permissible to sustain these sentiments, especially because they’re being expressed by a writer of color. I would not recommend this book.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
ABOUT:
An unexpected invitation to Senegal sends Anana on a journey through her ancestry, identity, and sense of belonging. It blends travel, romance, and cultural exploration with a deeply personal story of self-discovery.
————————-
This was ultimately a mixed read for me.
I had a difficult time connecting with the main character, Anana, as a protagonist. Her impulsive, live-in-the-moment outlook and many of her choices made it hard for me to relate to her, particularly when it came to situations where she put herself at risk while traveling. That's very much a personal preference, but it created some distance between me and the story.
The writing style also took some adjustment. It begins with a heavy focus on internal reflection before opening up into more dialogue. The prose blends deeply spiritual moments with very contemporary slang and explicit metaphors, creating a tonal contrast that didn't quite work for me. I wasn't always sure whether certain passages were meant to be humorous, satirical, or entirely sincere.
That said, there were aspects I genuinely appreciated. I loved Anana's recurring reflections on the generations of ancestors whose lives made her own journey possible. Her time in Senegal was the strongest part of the novel for me. Learning about the country's history, witnessing her connection to her ancestry, and seeing her spiritual reverence for the experience made those chapters incredibly meaningful. It felt like both a pilgrimage and an exploration of generational healing, and I found those moments especially powerful.
In the end, I think I'm simply not the ideal audience for this story. While I appreciated the opportunity to experience a perspective and history different from my own, the novel felt so deeply rooted in one individual's lived experience that I sometimes struggled to connect with its broader message. Even so, I admire what the author set out to do with this debut, and I hope it finds the readers who will connect with it more than I did.
Thank you to NetGalley and Red Hen Press for the opportunity to read an advanced copy and exchange for my honest opinions. This book publishes September 22.
An unexpected invitation to Senegal sends Anana on a journey through her ancestry, identity, and sense of belonging. It blends travel, romance, and cultural exploration with a deeply personal story of self-discovery.
————————-
This was ultimately a mixed read for me.
I had a difficult time connecting with the main character, Anana, as a protagonist. Her impulsive, live-in-the-moment outlook and many of her choices made it hard for me to relate to her, particularly when it came to situations where she put herself at risk while traveling. That's very much a personal preference, but it created some distance between me and the story.
The writing style also took some adjustment. It begins with a heavy focus on internal reflection before opening up into more dialogue. The prose blends deeply spiritual moments with very contemporary slang and explicit metaphors, creating a tonal contrast that didn't quite work for me. I wasn't always sure whether certain passages were meant to be humorous, satirical, or entirely sincere.
That said, there were aspects I genuinely appreciated. I loved Anana's recurring reflections on the generations of ancestors whose lives made her own journey possible. Her time in Senegal was the strongest part of the novel for me. Learning about the country's history, witnessing her connection to her ancestry, and seeing her spiritual reverence for the experience made those chapters incredibly meaningful. It felt like both a pilgrimage and an exploration of generational healing, and I found those moments especially powerful.
In the end, I think I'm simply not the ideal audience for this story. While I appreciated the opportunity to experience a perspective and history different from my own, the novel felt so deeply rooted in one individual's lived experience that I sometimes struggled to connect with its broader message. Even so, I admire what the author set out to do with this debut, and I hope it finds the readers who will connect with it more than I did.
Thank you to NetGalley and Red Hen Press for the opportunity to read an advanced copy and exchange for my honest opinions. This book publishes September 22.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Ferry Tales follows Anana Freedman, a Black millennial whose comfortable life is built around work, drinking, smoking, and relationships that never require too much from her. An unexpected wedding invitation takes her to West Africa, where she is forced to confront the distance between the life she has created and the history she has inherited.
I liked that Anana’s journey is not presented as a simple homecoming or an instant spiritual awakening. Her experience brings together family history, corporate ambition, romance, cultural disconnection, and the complicated realities of the African diaspora. She can be messy and self-protective, but that makes her search for a stronger sense of identity feel more honest.
The novel occasionally tries to carry several large themes at once, but Anana’s voice, the humor, and the West African setting kept me engaged. This was a thoughtful debut about what it means to reconnect with a heritage that feels both deeply personal and unfamiliar.
My sincere thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me with a free advance review copy.
I liked that Anana’s journey is not presented as a simple homecoming or an instant spiritual awakening. Her experience brings together family history, corporate ambition, romance, cultural disconnection, and the complicated realities of the African diaspora. She can be messy and self-protective, but that makes her search for a stronger sense of identity feel more honest.
The novel occasionally tries to carry several large themes at once, but Anana’s voice, the humor, and the West African setting kept me engaged. This was a thoughtful debut about what it means to reconnect with a heritage that feels both deeply personal and unfamiliar.
My sincere thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me with a free advance review copy.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
We follow Anana as she travels to Senegal and confronts questions of identity, ancestry, and belonging.
Anana’s trip to Senegal was definitely my favourite part of the novel. Seeing her reconnect with her roots while learning more about the country’s history gave the story a lot of emotional impact. The spiritual elements and themes of generational healing felt real and added a nice layer to her personal journey.
The writing felt literary, introspective and thoughtful making Anana's emotional journey feel even more personal and immersive.
I appreciate the author’s vision and the conversations this story sparks. It’s a thoughtful look at heritage, belonging, and self-discovery that I think really resonates.
Thank you so much @redhenpress & Abrea Armstrong for the #gifted arc copy!
All opinions are my own 🩵
Anana’s trip to Senegal was definitely my favourite part of the novel. Seeing her reconnect with her roots while learning more about the country’s history gave the story a lot of emotional impact. The spiritual elements and themes of generational healing felt real and added a nice layer to her personal journey.
The writing felt literary, introspective and thoughtful making Anana's emotional journey feel even more personal and immersive.
I appreciate the author’s vision and the conversations this story sparks. It’s a thoughtful look at heritage, belonging, and self-discovery that I think really resonates.
Thank you so much @redhenpress & Abrea Armstrong for the #gifted arc copy!
All opinions are my own 🩵
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
There were definitely some cute and funny parts, but overall I think this book was a little too slow for me. These types of books are just not for me . However, I really enjoyed the message. The beginning had me hooked but the majority of the book felt repetitive and like a school project on Black history. Once I hit 80% I felt invested in the story and it picked up . I definitely feel empowered and it gave me Black Queen / magic energy at the end. The story is written creatively and poetically but in a way the writing feels like it’s trying too hard to be artsy. This book reminded me of how I felt agitated while reading Honey and Spice. The way these books are written is just not for me but they can make someone else happy.
Review of advance copy received from Author
Ferry Tales is messy in all the right ways. Abrea Armstrong gives us a Black woman who drinks, smokes, loves, lusts, questions herself, makes some questionable decisions, and is still worthy of all the things.
What I appreciated most was that Armstrong never tries to make Anana palatable for us. She lets her be funny, brilliant, vulnerable, selfish, and a bit ratchet, sometimes all on the same page.
What I appreciated most was that Armstrong never tries to make Anana palatable for us. She lets her be funny, brilliant, vulnerable, selfish, and a bit ratchet, sometimes all on the same page.
September 29, 2026
The first chapter hooked me in and then it fell a bit flat. It’s written like a memoir if you will. Constantly breaking the fourth wall, repetitiveness and pop culture references. Not for me. I didn’t hate it. I didn’t love it fully either, but I know someone will.
Thank you to NetGally, the publisher and the author for the advance reader copy of this book!
Thank you to NetGally, the publisher and the author for the advance reader copy of this book!
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews