An epic, transformative novel following a young woman as she navigates a series of three distinct romantic relationships, reckons with the false promise of family intimacy, and seeks connection with the sublime and natural worlds.
Lucy is a senior in college struggling to quell the effects of a sexual assault when she gets a glimpse into a different plane of existence — one that is more wild, physical, animal. Unable to shake the experience, she moves away from home, breaks up with her long-term boyfriend, stops speaking to her mother, and starts dating a dynamic man with a terrifying violent streak.
As she changes cities, friends, and partners, an otherworldly existential force thrums in the back of her mind. It urges her to reject the ordinary, but also reminds her that she is alone in the world. She feels it in the ocean while deep-sea diving, in the cold silences from her mother, in the unknowing gaze of the man she thought would be her soulmate.
We follow Lucy over the course of a decade, witnessing moments of both horrific pain and quotidian happiness. The years pass by seamlessly, bringing her to the edge of her twenties and back to an altered, barren version of her childhood home, where she must finally come to terms with the fear that being human might mean feeling alone, and wild, and unknowable.
Thank you to Rachel from Catapult for sending me an arc of this brilliant book and altering the trajectory of my life, maybe. I read the last few pages over and over and over again in a trance and then wanted to read the whole thing all over again. If you want a book that puts you in touch with our horrible wonderful messy animal existence, read this. if you want to your standards for all other books to be raised impossibly high, read this!!!!!!!!!!
Whew!!! Wow!!! Not like anything else I've ever read. Wild, dizzying, so self-assured, hard to put down because it's such a captivating voice (and sometimes hard to keep going with because so much of what happens is so rough, but it's never bleak). We're all just really at each other's mercy in this world, aren't we? We can't control anything that happens to us or even, to a large extent, how we respond to what does happen. But we really think we can. Oh Lucy. I love you so much and want you to get good therapy so much because you deserve it. I really believe Lucy - who I can't believe isn't a real person - has a better mid-/late adulthood ahead of her. I feel my spirit is larger, and both less and more tethered to my body, having read this. Thank you Emeline Atwood!! Thank you Catapult!! Thank you Sophie!!
holy shit, this was incredible. from the first page i knew that i was holding something completely remarkable in my hands, and it really truly only gets better from there. by no means is "a real animal" an easy read, but i couldn't put it down nonetheless. this book does what my favorite books do- where it peels back layers of the world and shows me a different way of thinking, a perspective so honest and raw that it stays in my mind and rattles my own approach to life.
how does anyone even actually handle our ridiculous animal existence? how much truth do we need to turn away from in order to survive each day? and what stupid choice do we have but to keep going? fantastically existential, heartbreaking, and affecting. probably already the best read of 2026.
thank youuu sophie for getting me in here. you're correct always
jeeesus, new depth of self awareness just dropped?? Idk wtf? Blew me apart and is reassembling the pieces in an order previously unexplored?? Idk if I’ve got a real review in me rn lol not ready to let go of Lucy yet
A decade-long wild ride following the life of Lucy, a semi-privileged girl, and the three different ‘romantic’ relationships she encounters throughout different stages of her life. From her senior year of college to approaching her thirties, Lucy is still trying to find herself amongst the rubble.
I really enjoyed this book, and it’s been a while since a sad girl/ weird girl literary fiction title has held my attention in this capacity. It’s unique for the subgenre, and I think if you were a fan of the weird girl trend back in 2022, you’d love this one as I did!
While entertaining, this book was a tough read. Lucy cannot catch a break, and her life is fucking wild. She’s been through a lot, and been a victim to even more, and I couldn’t help but want to give her a hug. She’s one of those people who mold themselves into what their partner wants them to be because that is the only love she knows and desires. You’ll never read about Lucy bringing herself up; it’s only her constantly being beaten down, even when her boyfriends are praising her.
The writing is nothing to run home to, but Emeline Atwood does a wonderful job of making this book unputdownable. The one thing she excelled at, perhaps too well, was the setting descriptions. There’s a sizeable chunk of this book that takes place in Hawai’i, and there are so many different cities and even road names that were dropped, yet for other places, like Texas, it wasn’t as descriptive.
From the title and the prologue, I expected this to take more of a Nightbitch approach, but we didn’t go there. I wanted a bit more of that weirdness, but even with that slight disappointment, this book was still great.
I’m singing its praises despite giving this a three-star. I find it hard for literary titles to break free from a mid rating, and this didn’t really give me anything new or something to scream at the top of my lungs about. Overall, I really liked this, and I think when this releases, it could be a big title for the summer!
My review is based on the ARC copy. Thank you to Catapult! This title is set to release on July 7, 2026.
I was completely hypnotized by this book. Lucy’s coming of age in her 20s is relatable in so many ways. She shape-shifts with each relationship and place she calls home. The most profound aspect of this novel is Lucy’s yearning to mask her feelings of vulnerability and loneliness by leaning into her feral, animalistic side. It’s not always pretty. The opening scene is a perfect reflection of that and definitely one of the coolest first pages of a book I’ve ever read. A beautiful and ambitious debut novel that should be in every woman’s beach bag this summer.
A Real Animal is the first book I read in 2026, and I already know it’s going to be one of the year’s best. Heartbreaking and hopeful in equal measure, the novel is a meditation on the lasting impacts of trauma and the brave, sometimes misguided desire to lead an extraordinary life. It opens in the aftermath of sexual assault, during a visceral psychological episode near the end of Lucy’s senior year of college. Despite her mother’s urging—and her mother’s own emotional cruelty and distance, shaped by untreated mental illness—Lucy moves to Indianapolis after graduation. Indianapolis, she believes, will not only save her but return her home transformed: healthier, wealthier, socially fulfilled, and with “enough distance...from the versions of me that no longer matched.” But you take yourself everywhere you go. Life in Indianapolis is as monotonous as life in the Northeast, and Lucy mistakes a relationship with a deeply troubled older man for progress. She’s 23. He’s 39. Rather than view this as a reflection of his immaturity, she sees proof of her own worldliness. Their sexual dynamic initially feels like reclamation—powerful, chosen—though it quickly turns dark and abusive. Flashing to her later twenties, Lucy is in a mostly happy, mostly stable relationship with Liam, whom she loves so intently it sometimes makes her physically ill. Yet even here, fear seeps in: that he’ll leave her for another kind of woman, the kind she convinces herself is easier, better suited for him. What makes this novel truly extraordinary is Lucy’s voice—sharp, unsparing, and achingly honest about loneliness. The treatment of SA in this novel is powerful without being reductive; its shadow lurks but does not define her. In a later scene, Lucy hears two women criticizing fiction that frames female characters as “bodies waiting to be violated.” (“Here’s a pretty white woman,” said Norah. “And now here comes the big tragic r*pe. And now here are all the graphic details.”). A Real Animal rejects that framework entirely. Lucy is more than the things that were done to her—she is a woman who is lonely, self-aware, ambitious, and wildly alive.
this debut clearly has ambition and emotional weight. it traces a woman’s twenties through trauma, displacement, intimacy, and a persistent sense of wildness, both in outside world and within the self. i understand what this novel is reaching for: the loneliness of becoming an adult, the way grief and desire reshape the body, and the feeling of being slightly unmoored from ordinary life. in that sense, the book succeeds at communicating its thematic intent.
however, as a reading experience, i struggled. the prose is immersive, often heavy with feeling, and while i can see how that will resonate deeply with some readers, it left me feeling burdened rather than absorbed. the emotional weight accumulates without much release, and i found myself reading with a sense of obligation instead of curiosity. i understand that this heaviness is likely deliberate—an invitation to inhabit Lucy’s inner world—but for me, it made the novel difficult to enjoy.
while i appreciated the honesty and vulnerability behind that choice, it isn’t the kind of book i would return to, or one i felt enriched by once i reached the end. still, i can see why it’s receiving such strong praise, particularly from readers who connect to its exploration of trauma, womanhood, and existential isolation. i tend to rate books based on my enjoyment, and despite its strengths, this one was not for me.
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to-read:
lately, i'm drawn to stories about interpersonal relationships and existentialism.
A primal, character-driven book, with little plot to speak of, and yet I couldn’t put it down. Lucy is an infuriating, often exhausting protagonist, the kind you spend much of the book wanting to shake some sense into. By the end, I found myself increasingly impatient with her, frustrated that after everything she’s been through, she doesn’t seem to have learned anything.
And then it clicked: Lucy’s lack of any obvious transformation may be the book’s most honest insight. Why should she have it all figured out? Why is thirty some kind of benchmark for emotional clarity or growth? Living through difficult, so-called adult experiences doesn’t automatically make you wiser or more stable; sometimes it just leaves you worn down and a little lost.
Atwood‘s understated prose is a purring engine beneath the surface — controlled, but with a latent pressure that erupts in sudden bursts of narrative intensity.
There’s a kind of full-circle quality to the ending, but it doesn’t feel like Lucy is back where she started. Time has passed, something has shifted, and somewhere in that subtle, precarious change, there’s hope.
I’m still turning over the novel’s particular intimacy and the way it blurs the line between human and animal instinct. A book to keep an eye on.
I found this book lying on the ground in Brooklyn and was excited to find it's an advance copy of a new author's first book!
Gripping story, I was hooked from the first page. This is the kind of book that keeps you up late reading - I devoured it in two days.
It's disturbing at times, but absolutely brilliant how the author captures her character's inner thoughts, the stream of insecurity no one ever speaks aloud. The main character is so well developed and all the supporting characters feel very realistic; you can picture them and hear their voices, even without pages of agonizing detail on how they look, you get to know them by crisp bits of dialogue. The story follows Lucy throughout her twenties. You're cheering for her at times and many other times she'll make you cringe, roll your eyes, and shake your head. I would definitely read more by this author.
There are moments in A Real Animal where you can see the potential. A few passages are beautifully written, and the book clearly wants to explore identity, instinct, and vulnerability in an interesting way.
The problem is that it never fully comes together. The pacing feels uneven, and the characters stay just out of reach emotionally. I kept wanting more grounded moments to balance out the heavier, more symbolic writing.
I did not dislike it completely, but it felt like a book I admired from a distance rather than genuinely connected with.
I can’t remember a stranger or more compelling opening to a book. What a fascinating place to start with this enraging, stressful character. I felt sick on this book and I loved it.
thank you so much to catapult for inviting me to the book launch party for ‘a real animal’ and providing me with a copy of the book. i was expecting to enjoy it, sure, but i ended up staying up late and waking up early to finish. i became obsessed and needed to know what happened next. this easily became a new favorite book for me.
lucy is a girl navigating life as someone who is a watcher and an overthinker.
as an animal lover, everything and everyone is a metaphor for some sort of animal. herself, a leopard in a tree. the nosy neighbors, waddling geese. a partner as he lashes out, a lion.
lucy is a girl who keeps everything in until the point of explosion. who cannot articulate her thoughts no matter how badly she wants to. who says the wrong thing at the wrong time with a powerful,bitter tongue to disguise the softness and vulnerability on the inside of herself.
the experiences of lucy are tragic despite being realistic and too common. the acceptance of the bad things as things that are just things, without an adjective.
the way emeline atwood thinks is so real- i felt like she was walking inside my brain scraping up the things i cannot articulate and placing them on paper.
this touches on the way that some women hold their trauma close to their chest and allow it to seep into everything they do, whether consciously or not. bringing small parts of who you once were into the person you end up becoming.
wanting to be peeled back layer by layer by everyone you meet, but no one cares enough to ask. and when they do, it’s too hard to talk about anyway.
there is a fear of not being good enough to love, not being interesting enough, being too different, being too needy. the fear of not being enough yet being good enough for everyone. the anxiety that comes with existentialism and introspection of self.
the fear of being hurt and how it always comes true, even by those who promise they will never hurt you. but lucy isn’t the only one getting hurt, she is hurting people too.
this book reminds me of both ‘a little life’ and ‘heart the lover’ at times- especially the way it follows lucy for a long length of time through many of her life experiences. i was expecting it to be a good read, but i wasn’t ready for just how good it would be.
on shelves next week 7/7 - please get yourself a copy.
‘every time i left him, i was worried i would never see him again, so every day became about defeating a debilitating vertigo”’
This is the book that everyone at Penguin Random House has been gushing about for a year, both inside and outside their building. After reading it, I can also say that A Real Animal is STUNNING — from the cover art to the prose, the plot to the unbelievable character arc of a traumatized young woman making a lot of bad choices but stealing your heart anyway.
Life, that ole trickster, uses Lucy’s rape trauma during a study abroad trip as a successful audition for her messy coming-of-age story that will not be following the typical story structure. The downward spiral starts with a chaotic frenzy in the beginning pages: she is unfaithful to her boyfriend with his entire group of friends, experiences a feral episode where she believes she is a literal leopard, and pushes away her mother because she decides everyone around her is boring and lame. Desperate to outrun herself, she packs up and runs to Indianapolis — and then to Maui, followed by an intense, breathtaking escape to Texas, then to Manhattan, and even back to her childhood home in Boston — to give "fresh starts" a try. But everywhere she turns, more trauma is perpetrated by people she should be able to trust, feeding the animal inside until Lucy is no longer able to LadyMacbeth the resulting stains away.
In the end, A Real Animal is about how the world abuses women mentally, physically, and emotionally in many traumatic ways and rarely faces any consequences for it. Where we are unable to expect kindness or respect or even understanding, we must find a way to defend ourselves. The problem with defense, though, is that it always turns into offense.
Atwood builds a world where trauma, anxiety, a fight-or-flight tension, and changing geography keep readers biting their nails on the edge of their seats. That constant feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach made for a difficult but exciting reading experience. A Real Animal is perfect for fans of weird girl literary fiction with a gothic vibe and a metronome ticking with dark anticipation in the background. And who isn’t? I could write for a long time about this impressive debut novel, but grab it from your nearest library or bookstore and see for yourself. 5 stars
Thanks to Catapult/Penguin Random House, Emeline Atwood (author), and Edelweiss for the digital review copy of A Real Animal. Their generosity did not influence my review.
In a young woman’s quest of self discovery, A Real Animal, offers an unflinching examination of sex, intimacy, and relationships.
We first meet Lucy in an intensely creative opening scene and good luck turning away once you begin her story. She finishes college and goes out in the world on a mission of honing her identify. Like so many of us, she thinks she knows what her life will look like in the future, but at 22, believes there’s plenty of time to get there. Through effective flashback sequences, we learn of Lucy's traumatic past while she experiences a traumatic present. This is an unconventional character who rejects social norms in the hope of understanding love and existence.
While not perfect, the novel puts complex, hard to articulate feelings, into clear language. Inner dialogue is written superbly and it shows how two people can speak past each other. Many scenes demonstrate how men and women possess similar fears but communicate them very differently. This is an easy protagonist to care for, worry about, but sometimes not take seriously. In one page she decides to break up with a boyfriend and on the next she asks if they can get married. Her thoughts soar in all directions in the first half of the book, but the second half is tighter and we learn most about Lucy's spirit as she tries to grow closer to those with different ideals and experiences.
This is not a book for all readers, but brave fans of literary fiction will be impressed by the novel’s innovation. A Real Animal is a strongly written, impressively crafted, debut. I look forward to following Emeline Atwood, clearly a young talent.
Thanks to Edelweiss and Catapult Books for a review copy.
Literary/Contemporary Fiction Out Now! Pub Date: July 7, 2026 ⭐⭐⭐
Synopsis & Thoughts: FMC Lucy struggles through life in her twenties in the aftermath of a traumatic event.
I am confused about whether or not I like this book. While I found myself questioning whether or not to continue reading, I also could not put this book down. I found FMC Lucy’s life choices maddening. After returning home to New England from her internship in Australia due to a life changing, traumatic event, Lucy moves from state to state, job to job, and from one relationship to another seeking love, happiness, and acceptance. Lucy’s choices and actions are difficult to accept, her skewed view of love is disturbing and her unhealthy relationships with family, friends, and boyfriends are sad. I was angry with Lucy and found her unlikable, but at the same time, I was rooting for her and wanting to give her a big hug. I think this is because I disliked all the people in Lucy’s life even more than Lucy. I kept reading, hoping Lucy would get the help she needed, realize her self worth and gain a realistic and healthy perspective on love and happiness. Lucy’s character eventually grows and shows promise of making positive realizations and changes. Atwood incorporates some heavily fantastical and symbolic inner dialogue and stream of consciousness that sometimes blurs the lines between what is really happening and what is not. This is a book I categorize as a “maybe”. I believe this is one of those books some readers will absolutely love this debut novel, some will immediately DNF and then others will be like me, conflicted. Thank you to Catapult for the advance digital copy of A Real Animal by Emeline Atwood.
Lucy has everything youth can bestow: beauty, intelligence, and an emotional attunement so finely honed it borders on a superpower. What she lacks is the confidence to own any of it. In Emeline Atwood's debut novel, we follow her through college and into young adulthood, watching as she bends herself into the shape each new relationship seems to demand, giving and giving until she is pushed past the point of return. Atwood understands something true and rarely said aloud: that adaptability, in women, is often less a choice than a survival strategy worn so long it starts to feel like personality.
The novel moves through tragedy and tenderness with equal steadiness. What keeps Lucy grounded, and what gives the book some of its most beautiful passages, is the natural world. When she is in it, submerged in water or lost in an overgrown landscape, she is briefly, completely herself. The snapping, when it comes, never feels like a plot device. It feels earned. Atwood builds toward each rupture so carefully that the reader arrives there alongside Lucy, relieved and shaken in equal measure. There is real power in watching a character transform, endure, and finally refuse, and this novel renders that arc with honesty and restraint.
A Real Animal is a story that will feel singular to every reader and familiar to many. The passage into young womanhood has rarely been written with this much clarity or this little sentimentality. It is harrowing, luminous, and absolutely worth your time.
Many thanks to #NetGalley for the advance copy of this book
This novel follows Lucy as she stumbles from her early twenties into her early thirties, trying to establish a sense of self. We see Lucy in three different romantic relationships with men who--though vastly different--can't seem to understand Lucy and her desires, likely because she doesn't yet understand them herself. Does she crave normalcy and stability? Or is there something deeper, more animalistic, inside her?
Lucy is desperate for someone to tell her what to do, who to be, what she's like. I saw so much of my younger self in her--that desperation to both be known and to become. To leave behind a traumatic past and to have someone else understand how heavy it feels to be carrying it with you, dragging it from room to room and city to city, relationship to relationship. I don't know that any other author has captured that feeling quite so well.
The narrative voice is entrancing, hypnotic, sparse. I've seen a few people call this "weird girl lit" but I think it's more weird girl via MFA? I mean that as a compliment, but others' milage may vary. The writing gets a little too meta at times (especially when Lucy describes wanting to write down everything that has happened in her life, and when she discusses the way sexual assault is used as a tool in literature). Still, Atwood commands language in a way that is impressive for a debut author.
Thank you to Catapult, NetGalley, and the author for an ARC of this book!
Probably a strong 3.75, rounded up because this is a debut and I'm excited to see what Atwood does next.
This one is an interesting book to rate and review. Not really plot driven, A Real Animal follows Lucy through 3 different relationships from college age up through early adulthood and all the trauma that spawned in between.
This book felt like a train wreck that you can’t take your eyes off of. Many parts of it was extremely uncomfortable and difficult to get through but still hard to put down at the same time.
The book felt thick (heavy with sadness) and weighed heavily on me. I found it to be loaded with trauma without having Lucy actually delve into the root of the issues. It was one traumatic event after the next and she never seeks help, though does try to tell a few people who all have their own issues and don’t respond in a helpful way. It was devastating reading her internal thoughts.
Lucy tends to summon her animalistic side to cope with her trauma rather than to seek help which frustrated me to no end, but that seems to be the entire tragic point of the book.
There's no doubt this is an extraordinary novel. It follows no pattern I've ever seen before and never delivers what you expect. It's all first person, from the mind of Lucy, and follows her from college for about ten years through some emotionally harrowing experiences. I've read several positive reviews, looking for someone who saw the central theme of the book the way I did. They use words like transcendence, propulsive, wildly original. I can agree with all those words. But, no one has mentioned the words that jumped out at me in the first paragraph and stayed with me throughout. Unreliable. Lucy is an unreliable narrator. And, to me, there is an obvious reason why she is unreliable. Some of the experiences she describes are impossible, even though to her mind these experiences are reality. What does this tell us about Lucy?
Confession time. I requested this book solely because the title is similar to my own book, A Good Animal. I was curious about another author's exploration of animals as symbols of or in relation to the human experience. I’m glad the title led me to this work.
Atwood’s honest, unadorned prose lends an eerily dissociative quality to main character Lucy’s POV, making the events of the novel all the more disarming. Despite a stable, privileged upbringing, Lucy encounters (often intentionally) chaos, wildness, danger as she moves from college student, to twenty-something, to early-thirties. Ultimately, she learns that accepting the wildness of the world is to be at peace with it and with herself.
Thank you so much to NetGalley and Catapult for sharing a digital copy of the book with me.
I’m floored. . This novel follows Lucy as she navigates her twenties while grappling with the aftermath of an assault. Her journey is raw and unflinching, capturing the complexity of trauma and its effects on every aspect of her life, but particularly her relationships. . The relationships she forms throughout the story are at times predictable, vulnerable, volatile, and deeply heartbreaking. Even when her choices are difficult to read, one can’t help but stand beside her, rooting for her in spite of it all. . Caught between conflicting expectations—to be both demure and domineering—Lucy feels like someone who’s been dealt an impossibly difficult hand. Her story is unsettling, powerful, and unlike anything I’ve read before. . Thank you to the team at Catapult for sending to me early!
A dark but riveting read about Lucy, who we first meet as she's having a mental breakdown in her college dorm, thinking she's a wild animal and scaling a tree like nobody's business. We then follow her through 3 relationships she has with men through her 20s and early 30s. A lot of the content is shocking and surprising, but the more we get to know Lucy, the more we peel away the layers and better understand who she is and why she makes the decisions she makes. I've never encountered a character like her in literature before. She is the best part of the novel and Atwood's characterization of her leaps off the page. I recommend going into it blind and being stunned by the journey.
This was an incredibly well-written novel and I cannot believe it’s the author’s debut. I will read anything she writes going forward. On the deepest level, Lucy is relatable in that uncomfortable way that forces you to reluctantly look inward because she’s also kind of unlikeable and problematic. There were so many moments where I saw myself in her and felt the weight of the world on my chest. This took me so long to read because it upset me so much. I know I’m going to be thinking about this for a very long time. I don’t remember the last time a book had this effect on me.
Thank you to NetGalley and Catapult for this ARC. All opinions are my own.
I received this book as part of the First Novel reviewing program and this was quite a read. Lucy is a 20 something who has quite an interesting life that revolves around relationships, and familial interactions. The writing is sharp and gritty but also very down to earth and Lucy is potrayed as a troubled but relatable girl, one that you could definitely see knowing in real life. Some of the content is a bit shocking but it's nothing that really caused me to lose interest. I really enjoyed the story told here, as well as the journey the author takess us on.
Easily in my top five all time favorite books. This book tore me open, exposing parts of myself that I’ve had a hard time putting into words, Atwood does it! So honest and raw, unlike anything I’ve read before.
Not an easy read per se, but a must read. Atwood has written a story that I know I will return to. Don’t pass this one up!!!!!!!
An exploration of trauma, self-discovery, and belonging. This book will make you uncomfortable, and I encourage you to embrace that discomfort as you follow Lucy's story. The honesty, the lies, the messiness of humanity that we can all relate to but would rather not talk about.