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Fair Ones
Not yet published
Expected 6 Oct 26From the best-selling author of A Children’s Bible, a story of friends, shock, and survival.
Lydia Millet’s dialogue-driven, fast-moving double novel Fair Ones follows two Brooklyn women in their forties reeling from the sudden and baffling death of their friend Claire. Fair, Mara’s account, opens in the wake of initial shock as she and Jen try to come to grips with the enigma of Claire’s killing. Ones, told from Jen’s point of view, picks up a year later as she and Mara wrestle with new relationships and old secrets.
In this vibrant, funny-sad fiction of companionship and solitude, Millet dazzles with dry wit and sharp prose. The narrators’ inner and outer conversations—and their ongoing entanglement with the memories of Claire—explore the ways we create and define ourselves through others. Fair Ones is a love song to the intricate annoyances of families both chosen and unchosen—and to the banality, bombast, and humble beauties of midlife friendships.
Lydia Millet’s dialogue-driven, fast-moving double novel Fair Ones follows two Brooklyn women in their forties reeling from the sudden and baffling death of their friend Claire. Fair, Mara’s account, opens in the wake of initial shock as she and Jen try to come to grips with the enigma of Claire’s killing. Ones, told from Jen’s point of view, picks up a year later as she and Mara wrestle with new relationships and old secrets.
In this vibrant, funny-sad fiction of companionship and solitude, Millet dazzles with dry wit and sharp prose. The narrators’ inner and outer conversations—and their ongoing entanglement with the memories of Claire—explore the ways we create and define ourselves through others. Fair Ones is a love song to the intricate annoyances of families both chosen and unchosen—and to the banality, bombast, and humble beauties of midlife friendships.
384 pages, Hardcover
Expected publication October 6, 2026
About the author
Lydia Millet
43 books1,163 followersLydia Millet has written twelve works of fiction. She has won awards from PEN Center USA and the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and her books have been longlisted for the National Book Award, shortlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Award and Los Angeles Times Book Prize, and named as New York Times Notable Books. Her story collection Love in Infant Monkeys was a Pulitzer Prize finalist. She lives outside Tucson, Arizona.
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Review of advance copy received from Publisher
For many years, we’ve lived in a time of senseless violence, where biological families and once-trusted organizations have failed to protect us. Many have chosen to become cloistered among their own families of choice. So it is with Mara, Jen, and Claire.
And then – poof! – Claire is gone – the victim of one of those incidents of random violence. We readers are dropped into the middle of this, days after Claire is gunned down as she waits for a bus, when everything feels unmoored and chaotic.
Within the first pages, narrated by Mara, we are introduced to a throng of characters – the two women, Jen’s erstwhile professor boyfriend Richard, Claire’s grieving parents, a bitchy girl who Mara meets in the bathroom, a memoirist (unnamed) from Claire’s book group, a slimy and affluent ex-boyfriend of Claire’s named Jase who seems to be in denial that they truly broke up, a forensic doctor who Mara has just started dating, and someone who may or may not be Jon Hamm.
By bits and pieces, we learn the circumstances of Claire’s shooting and the relationship shared by the three women – two living, one dead. Through dialogue, we begin to understand them as sometimes self-protective or self-effacing, sometimes exhausting, and often searching for meaning at a time when meaning is elusive and when grief ends up being more personal than communal.
It is said that there are times in life that pose questions and other times that provide answers. The second half of the book, narrated by Jen, picks up a year later, and some things have begun falling into place. “The confusion of being and not being, the awe and the fear, the torrent of everything” has settled down, at least enough to move on. Jen and Mara begin to emerge as “ones” on their own: we meet their unchosen families, see them function as professionals, and even the memoirist gains a name. Questions about Claire’s death are answered.
But it is not the trajectory of the story that holds our attention. This is a novel about the uneven trajectory of grief, families of choice, and confronting our secrets and finding pieces of ourselves in midlife. It is a novel of storytelling and revision: what stories do we tell about ourselves and the person who is gone, and how do these stories influence how we move forward? And ultimately, it is an ode to life – a gift from death – “you’re gonna die…but first, you get to have this!” I am so grateful to W.W. Norton for enabling me to be an early reader in exchange for an honest review.
And then – poof! – Claire is gone – the victim of one of those incidents of random violence. We readers are dropped into the middle of this, days after Claire is gunned down as she waits for a bus, when everything feels unmoored and chaotic.
Within the first pages, narrated by Mara, we are introduced to a throng of characters – the two women, Jen’s erstwhile professor boyfriend Richard, Claire’s grieving parents, a bitchy girl who Mara meets in the bathroom, a memoirist (unnamed) from Claire’s book group, a slimy and affluent ex-boyfriend of Claire’s named Jase who seems to be in denial that they truly broke up, a forensic doctor who Mara has just started dating, and someone who may or may not be Jon Hamm.
By bits and pieces, we learn the circumstances of Claire’s shooting and the relationship shared by the three women – two living, one dead. Through dialogue, we begin to understand them as sometimes self-protective or self-effacing, sometimes exhausting, and often searching for meaning at a time when meaning is elusive and when grief ends up being more personal than communal.
It is said that there are times in life that pose questions and other times that provide answers. The second half of the book, narrated by Jen, picks up a year later, and some things have begun falling into place. “The confusion of being and not being, the awe and the fear, the torrent of everything” has settled down, at least enough to move on. Jen and Mara begin to emerge as “ones” on their own: we meet their unchosen families, see them function as professionals, and even the memoirist gains a name. Questions about Claire’s death are answered.
But it is not the trajectory of the story that holds our attention. This is a novel about the uneven trajectory of grief, families of choice, and confronting our secrets and finding pieces of ourselves in midlife. It is a novel of storytelling and revision: what stories do we tell about ourselves and the person who is gone, and how do these stories influence how we move forward? And ultimately, it is an ode to life – a gift from death – “you’re gonna die…but first, you get to have this!” I am so grateful to W.W. Norton for enabling me to be an early reader in exchange for an honest review.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on October 6th, 2026.
A slow paced (but exquisitely written and perversely engaging) novel rich in insightful discourse and doubly rich in character depth. At the core is a trio of best friends: Mara, Jen, and Claire — single New Yorkers operating at various edges of the wealthy. Claire — a high school guidance counselor and beauty queen; Mara a tutor for prep school students; and Jen the brainy former journalist and culture editor. It’s billed as a double novel — part one is Mara’s story, launched immediately after Claire’s sudden and violent death; part two is Jen’s story, taken up a year later and continuing with the evolving relationships, secrets, and healing.
I loved this book for the very real and thoroughly explored lives in relation to the catastrophic experience and the mad swirl of collateral damage resulting. New friendships, new discoveries, new reactions, new regrets, new hopes. The plot progresses, sometimes in very surprising (but utterly believable) ways. Social commentary throughout in characters’ thoughts, reactions, and evolving sense of self. Plenty of existential considerations as well as political discussions and a sense of societal duty (rather than entitlement). I found so many great quotes. I liked the fact that each character worked hard at understanding what made a “good person” and how they could best achieve that label, while also having the awareness of the layers of hypocrisy that lurk just below the surface. I also liked how well the author painted people from the different perspectives of the other characters through the kind of dialog / discussions we all have.
Quintessentially a New York story, and yet, typical for stories about New Yorkers, the characters are all NY transplants and so we travel from a Jain community in California, to the woods in Maine, to elite boarding schools, to high priced, drug infused Wall Street lofts in discovery of backstories. We consider white collar crime, dementia without financial resources, and the search for meaningful occupation. And we are surprised with a creeping, surreptitious solution to a mystery we didn’t know existed. We “join” in the discussion of a wide variety of topics from multiple perspectives on everything from climate change to the pros and cons of capitalism, to the real meaning of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree (that was a hoot). Millet’s books have a kind of dream like quality for me because I feel like I am occupying so many different heads at once. I loved this book.
Quotes:
“We had our daily routines, inside millions of others, and along the edges of those routines there was always the prospect of the story taking new turns. Because the city contained multitudes. So if the story changed, we’d figured, maybe we’d be excited all over again. Even the pandemic hadn’t driven us away. We’d survived.”
“In more neutral terms, she explained, they were both aware that pleasure and so-called ‘being in love’ are based on neurological novelty. And that the brain can’t be trusted not to take a relationship for granted. If they hung out together for too long a stretch, the dopamine surges would flare out.”
“If I tried to join in, throwing out a quick word of agreement or question, they’d gaze at me anthropologically. Like they were tolerating my naive opinion the way you’d tolerate a well-meaning foreigner who doesn’t speak the language.”
“Still, if you took away words, music lasted for centuries, I thought. A distillation of sadness that never aged. Unlike the person who’d felt it.”
“‘Economically underprivileged,’ was what the school called them, but Claire said poor kids; economically underprivileged was a privileged euphemism.”
“Although, she’d added, they outsourced their misery. Norway, for instance, claimed to be leading on carbon-neutrality but got most of its money from exporting a s***load of fossil fuels. Plus they went around slaughtering whales. Like the Japanese.”
“I never wanted kids. Even back when being gay meant you probably couldn’t have them. For the middle and upper classes, it’s a way of replacing anxiety about society with a fixation on the domestic. So you don’t have to strain your compassion by worrying about anything beyond the home front. Because you’ve already met your daily quota struggling to raise your young You can give up your ideals and your unresolved tension over the existential crisis of the ongoing death of the planet. And be praised for it. Since breeding’s sanctioned as the highest form of love.”
“There’s no such thing as a gift horse, Mara. Richard’s a regular horse. And the deal with horses is, you have to take care of them. You have to feed them. Muck out their stalls, Clean the first and shit from their hooves with a rasp. And ride them on a regular basis.”
“I don’t have a heart at peace, with my ex-wife. With that woman, I have a heart at war.”
“Plus Richard bloviated more if another professional was present. Especially Eli, who he saw as highly intelligent and yet, as a forensic pathologist, not fully conversant with current readings of late-stage capitalism. Richard would shift into enthusiastic lecture mode while Eli, likely exhausted from eight hours poking around in gnarly corpses, nodded politely and endured. I had to break into the lectures to save him.”
“So what did I do, again? With all that was given to me? And the answer would be, I ate. Mara claims social boredom makes me act out. But I don’t act out enough. If I did, I wouldn’t get so bored.”
A slow paced (but exquisitely written and perversely engaging) novel rich in insightful discourse and doubly rich in character depth. At the core is a trio of best friends: Mara, Jen, and Claire — single New Yorkers operating at various edges of the wealthy. Claire — a high school guidance counselor and beauty queen; Mara a tutor for prep school students; and Jen the brainy former journalist and culture editor. It’s billed as a double novel — part one is Mara’s story, launched immediately after Claire’s sudden and violent death; part two is Jen’s story, taken up a year later and continuing with the evolving relationships, secrets, and healing.
I loved this book for the very real and thoroughly explored lives in relation to the catastrophic experience and the mad swirl of collateral damage resulting. New friendships, new discoveries, new reactions, new regrets, new hopes. The plot progresses, sometimes in very surprising (but utterly believable) ways. Social commentary throughout in characters’ thoughts, reactions, and evolving sense of self. Plenty of existential considerations as well as political discussions and a sense of societal duty (rather than entitlement). I found so many great quotes. I liked the fact that each character worked hard at understanding what made a “good person” and how they could best achieve that label, while also having the awareness of the layers of hypocrisy that lurk just below the surface. I also liked how well the author painted people from the different perspectives of the other characters through the kind of dialog / discussions we all have.
Quintessentially a New York story, and yet, typical for stories about New Yorkers, the characters are all NY transplants and so we travel from a Jain community in California, to the woods in Maine, to elite boarding schools, to high priced, drug infused Wall Street lofts in discovery of backstories. We consider white collar crime, dementia without financial resources, and the search for meaningful occupation. And we are surprised with a creeping, surreptitious solution to a mystery we didn’t know existed. We “join” in the discussion of a wide variety of topics from multiple perspectives on everything from climate change to the pros and cons of capitalism, to the real meaning of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree (that was a hoot). Millet’s books have a kind of dream like quality for me because I feel like I am occupying so many different heads at once. I loved this book.
Quotes:
“We had our daily routines, inside millions of others, and along the edges of those routines there was always the prospect of the story taking new turns. Because the city contained multitudes. So if the story changed, we’d figured, maybe we’d be excited all over again. Even the pandemic hadn’t driven us away. We’d survived.”
“In more neutral terms, she explained, they were both aware that pleasure and so-called ‘being in love’ are based on neurological novelty. And that the brain can’t be trusted not to take a relationship for granted. If they hung out together for too long a stretch, the dopamine surges would flare out.”
“If I tried to join in, throwing out a quick word of agreement or question, they’d gaze at me anthropologically. Like they were tolerating my naive opinion the way you’d tolerate a well-meaning foreigner who doesn’t speak the language.”
“Still, if you took away words, music lasted for centuries, I thought. A distillation of sadness that never aged. Unlike the person who’d felt it.”
“‘Economically underprivileged,’ was what the school called them, but Claire said poor kids; economically underprivileged was a privileged euphemism.”
“Although, she’d added, they outsourced their misery. Norway, for instance, claimed to be leading on carbon-neutrality but got most of its money from exporting a s***load of fossil fuels. Plus they went around slaughtering whales. Like the Japanese.”
“I never wanted kids. Even back when being gay meant you probably couldn’t have them. For the middle and upper classes, it’s a way of replacing anxiety about society with a fixation on the domestic. So you don’t have to strain your compassion by worrying about anything beyond the home front. Because you’ve already met your daily quota struggling to raise your young You can give up your ideals and your unresolved tension over the existential crisis of the ongoing death of the planet. And be praised for it. Since breeding’s sanctioned as the highest form of love.”
“There’s no such thing as a gift horse, Mara. Richard’s a regular horse. And the deal with horses is, you have to take care of them. You have to feed them. Muck out their stalls, Clean the first and shit from their hooves with a rasp. And ride them on a regular basis.”
“I don’t have a heart at peace, with my ex-wife. With that woman, I have a heart at war.”
“Plus Richard bloviated more if another professional was present. Especially Eli, who he saw as highly intelligent and yet, as a forensic pathologist, not fully conversant with current readings of late-stage capitalism. Richard would shift into enthusiastic lecture mode while Eli, likely exhausted from eight hours poking around in gnarly corpses, nodded politely and endured. I had to break into the lectures to save him.”
“So what did I do, again? With all that was given to me? And the answer would be, I ate. Mara claims social boredom makes me act out. But I don’t act out enough. If I did, I wouldn’t get so bored.”
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
Three friends since teen or college years—Jen, Maura, And Claire—are the main characters, essentially. Although Claire is offstage because she is dead when the novel opens. During the course of the story, the questions of Claire’s untimely death (the friends are in their early forties) are answered—who, how, why, where, and so on. In fact, the novel opens in Maura’s pov soon after Claire’s death. Her friends are gathered at Claire’s favorite bar. Its heavy on the dialogue and feels more like a play at first. This is the first “novel,” Fair . The second “novel,” Ones, is from Jen’s pov, approximately a year after Claire’s death. All three women have been childless and single. Fair Ones is a story of female friendship, middle age love, grief (of course!), shame, addiction, courage, found family, and identity. Give me a minute and I could think of more themes.
Sharp observations throughout this tale kept me on my toes, always thinking about what the characters had to say and their internal conflicts and thorny issues. There’s a Gordian knot of deeper anxieties running through Jen and Maura, which flow organically and punctuate many of their life choices. The two surviving women become closer after Claire’s death, and their relationships with the men in their life is explored with natural fluidity. Nothing feels forced here; one of the things that kept me fastened to the story is the ballast that the characters provide. I felt like I personally knew them, that they walked off the pages of my own life.
I won’t spoil the plot by dragging it out in my review. I’ll just say it is universal, constant, and compelling. The rhythm is buoyant, with a more theatrical cadence, as I said, in the first half. The things that happen are happening in the moment. The second part is more reflective, a contemplative, stirring experience of grief and something to keep the reader on the edge---a lurid secret that adds to the sense of loss. I’m still pondering the final pages. There’s so much in here to consider. The prose is first class, too.
“’Oh, the truth…’” … ‘It’s nothing next to grief.’”
Thank you so kindly to W.W. Norton for sending me a copy for review.
Sharp observations throughout this tale kept me on my toes, always thinking about what the characters had to say and their internal conflicts and thorny issues. There’s a Gordian knot of deeper anxieties running through Jen and Maura, which flow organically and punctuate many of their life choices. The two surviving women become closer after Claire’s death, and their relationships with the men in their life is explored with natural fluidity. Nothing feels forced here; one of the things that kept me fastened to the story is the ballast that the characters provide. I felt like I personally knew them, that they walked off the pages of my own life.
I won’t spoil the plot by dragging it out in my review. I’ll just say it is universal, constant, and compelling. The rhythm is buoyant, with a more theatrical cadence, as I said, in the first half. The things that happen are happening in the moment. The second part is more reflective, a contemplative, stirring experience of grief and something to keep the reader on the edge---a lurid secret that adds to the sense of loss. I’m still pondering the final pages. There’s so much in here to consider. The prose is first class, too.
“’Oh, the truth…’” … ‘It’s nothing next to grief.’”
Thank you so kindly to W.W. Norton for sending me a copy for review.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
Fair Ones feels like sitting around a dinner table with your oldest friends, discussing everything from trivial observations to life’s hardest moments.
On the surface, it’s about long-time friends, Marta & Jen, as they process the accidental death of their third best friend Claire, who was killed by a 13-year-old boy while waiting for a bus in Brooklyn. It opens in the (literal) wake of Claire’s death, at a last-minute memorial service that the women are dismayed to find Calire’s douche-y ex-boyfriend at—though less so when he supplies the materials for a late-night bender at his Tribeca loft (including a rooftop hot tub with Jon Hamm). The novel follows the women back into their lives as they continue grieving but also get back to living their normal lives with partners, tedious jobs, and ailing parents.
I love a talk-y novel, especially one that feels natural and makes me reconsider things I hadn’t thought too deeply about before. It’s also a very New York novel, and I liked getting to experience the city from their perspectives and how they’ve seen both it and themselves change as they’ve gotten older (rooftop parties, for example, are not as prevalent in their forties as they were in their twenties). The city is less exciting than it once was, fading into the backgrounds of their lives, but they also know the city contains multitudes and it might, one day, be exciting to them again.
The ‘double novel’ concept is interesting as it changes perspectives halfway through the novel, jumping forward a few years when the death is less fresh but still a constant echo in their lives. There is a fantastic plot that keeps the novel moving forward, but its more about the everyday grievances, beauty, and mysteries of their lives.
Also, this novel is funny! These characters are snarky! I wasn’t expecting it from a novel about grief, but I was giggling to myself all the time while reading this.
On the surface, it’s about long-time friends, Marta & Jen, as they process the accidental death of their third best friend Claire, who was killed by a 13-year-old boy while waiting for a bus in Brooklyn. It opens in the (literal) wake of Claire’s death, at a last-minute memorial service that the women are dismayed to find Calire’s douche-y ex-boyfriend at—though less so when he supplies the materials for a late-night bender at his Tribeca loft (including a rooftop hot tub with Jon Hamm). The novel follows the women back into their lives as they continue grieving but also get back to living their normal lives with partners, tedious jobs, and ailing parents.
I love a talk-y novel, especially one that feels natural and makes me reconsider things I hadn’t thought too deeply about before. It’s also a very New York novel, and I liked getting to experience the city from their perspectives and how they’ve seen both it and themselves change as they’ve gotten older (rooftop parties, for example, are not as prevalent in their forties as they were in their twenties). The city is less exciting than it once was, fading into the backgrounds of their lives, but they also know the city contains multitudes and it might, one day, be exciting to them again.
The ‘double novel’ concept is interesting as it changes perspectives halfway through the novel, jumping forward a few years when the death is less fresh but still a constant echo in their lives. There is a fantastic plot that keeps the novel moving forward, but its more about the everyday grievances, beauty, and mysteries of their lives.
Also, this novel is funny! These characters are snarky! I wasn’t expecting it from a novel about grief, but I was giggling to myself all the time while reading this.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Review of advance copy received by NetGalley
Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for giving me an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This double novel features two best friends, Mara and Jen, who are grieving the tragic loss of their third, Claire. The first novel, Fair, is told from Mara's point of view directly after the event. The second novel, Ones, gives us Jen's perspective about a year later. I am a big fan Millet's writing, and this was another excellent novel by her; an easy 5 star rating from me.
I connected with Mara right away as she is tender and open, a good narrator for this moment of raw grief and trauma. Her section could be quite funny despite the heaviness of the moment. The writing is fast and smart and relatable. While Mara struggles with making peace with death, her own mother is losing her memory. There are lovely passages about keeping things alive with memory, but how there can also be comfort in forgetting.
Jen's section took me longer to connect, as she is guarded and careful with showing her cards. She, Mara, and Claire had all been middle-aged women who were uninterested in marriage and children, but the event had knocked them out of what they thought they knew, for better and worse. In this section, some of the best passages were about being awake and present for the life we all have before it inevitably ends. Jen does become more vulnerable, and I felt quite fond of her and her growth arc by the end.
This is excellent, gorgeous, poignant writing by Millet. I will sincerely miss spending time with Mara and Jen. As someone who has experienced a major loss, this was my favorite line: "We didn't have to bring her up. She lived on in the residue of who we used to be." This will be a top read for me for 2026.
Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for giving me an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This double novel features two best friends, Mara and Jen, who are grieving the tragic loss of their third, Claire. The first novel, Fair, is told from Mara's point of view directly after the event. The second novel, Ones, gives us Jen's perspective about a year later. I am a big fan Millet's writing, and this was another excellent novel by her; an easy 5 star rating from me.
I connected with Mara right away as she is tender and open, a good narrator for this moment of raw grief and trauma. Her section could be quite funny despite the heaviness of the moment. The writing is fast and smart and relatable. While Mara struggles with making peace with death, her own mother is losing her memory. There are lovely passages about keeping things alive with memory, but how there can also be comfort in forgetting.
Jen's section took me longer to connect, as she is guarded and careful with showing her cards. She, Mara, and Claire had all been middle-aged women who were uninterested in marriage and children, but the event had knocked them out of what they thought they knew, for better and worse. In this section, some of the best passages were about being awake and present for the life we all have before it inevitably ends. Jen does become more vulnerable, and I felt quite fond of her and her growth arc by the end.
This is excellent, gorgeous, poignant writing by Millet. I will sincerely miss spending time with Mara and Jen. As someone who has experienced a major loss, this was my favorite line: "We didn't have to bring her up. She lived on in the residue of who we used to be." This will be a top read for me for 2026.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
“Fair Ones” by Lydia Millet is 90% dialogue and let me tell you: it is WONDERFUL. Conversations among close friends and family that beautifully reveal the story.
Three college friends, now in their forties: Mara, Jen, and Claire, are the protagonists and from page one I was completely captivated and thoroughly committed to them.
Millet calls this a “double novel” and this unique and creative structure works beautifully. “Fair” is narrated by Mara, and “Ones” by Jen a year later. Both are dealing with the sudden death of their friend, Claire.
Millet is a genius with dialogue! She can tell a whole story with it. A plot, a mystery, revelations, surprises, and mysteries.
She creates varied, interesting, and unforgettable characters with just dialogue! Even Claire, who is dead before the novel begins is fully realized. I was enthralled by the complete cast of characters that enrich this ambitious novel.
Millet weaves in all the emotions and sprinkles everything with humor (like life!) These characters are vividly human, and we meet them at a time of shocking crisis and then follow them through the grieving process. Every word uttered, or thought unsaid, feels true and real.
Millet possesses the writing prowess to allow humor to coexist with sadness and trauma (author Marian Toews does it wonderfully, too.) An example is the way Mara deals with her mother’s nascent dementia, it is both poignant and hilarious.
Many thanks to W. W. Norton for an advanced copy of this sure-to-be literary hit! It’s certainly going on MY Top Ten for 2026 list!
Three college friends, now in their forties: Mara, Jen, and Claire, are the protagonists and from page one I was completely captivated and thoroughly committed to them.
Millet calls this a “double novel” and this unique and creative structure works beautifully. “Fair” is narrated by Mara, and “Ones” by Jen a year later. Both are dealing with the sudden death of their friend, Claire.
Millet is a genius with dialogue! She can tell a whole story with it. A plot, a mystery, revelations, surprises, and mysteries.
She creates varied, interesting, and unforgettable characters with just dialogue! Even Claire, who is dead before the novel begins is fully realized. I was enthralled by the complete cast of characters that enrich this ambitious novel.
Millet weaves in all the emotions and sprinkles everything with humor (like life!) These characters are vividly human, and we meet them at a time of shocking crisis and then follow them through the grieving process. Every word uttered, or thought unsaid, feels true and real.
Millet possesses the writing prowess to allow humor to coexist with sadness and trauma (author Marian Toews does it wonderfully, too.) An example is the way Mara deals with her mother’s nascent dementia, it is both poignant and hilarious.
Many thanks to W. W. Norton for an advanced copy of this sure-to-be literary hit! It’s certainly going on MY Top Ten for 2026 list!
August 20, 2026
Thank you to NetGalley and W.W. Norton & Company for the advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
At its core, Fair Ones is a story of loss, life, and female friendship -- three elements that often sell me on a book. But this one just didn't quite work for me.
The book opens with our main characters -- long-time friends Mara and Jen -- attending an informal memorial for their other bestie, Claire, who recently died in an accidental shooting. Divided into two sections -- the first following Mara and the second half from Jen's point of view -- the book seeks to examine how we carry on and cope with trauma after losing a loved one, both on our own and within our friendships. And although I enjoyed spending time with the characters that Millet created, the writing felt stilted and elementary. Several storylines are raised and dropped, or very simply and quickly resolved, when they warranted a bit more depth. It felt like Millet had an idea of what she wanted this book to be but didn't quite know how to do it in a cohesive story. Both Jen and Mara are interesting characters, but splitting the book comes at a steep cost: Shortchanging their individual journeys to keep the book at a reasonable length. Overall, I do not feel that the book is well-executed from either a writing or storytelling perspective.
All that said, I did fly through the first half and had trouble putting the book down. I just wanted more from this book than it delivered.
At its core, Fair Ones is a story of loss, life, and female friendship -- three elements that often sell me on a book. But this one just didn't quite work for me.
The book opens with our main characters -- long-time friends Mara and Jen -- attending an informal memorial for their other bestie, Claire, who recently died in an accidental shooting. Divided into two sections -- the first following Mara and the second half from Jen's point of view -- the book seeks to examine how we carry on and cope with trauma after losing a loved one, both on our own and within our friendships. And although I enjoyed spending time with the characters that Millet created, the writing felt stilted and elementary. Several storylines are raised and dropped, or very simply and quickly resolved, when they warranted a bit more depth. It felt like Millet had an idea of what she wanted this book to be but didn't quite know how to do it in a cohesive story. Both Jen and Mara are interesting characters, but splitting the book comes at a steep cost: Shortchanging their individual journeys to keep the book at a reasonable length. Overall, I do not feel that the book is well-executed from either a writing or storytelling perspective.
All that said, I did fly through the first half and had trouble putting the book down. I just wanted more from this book than it delivered.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
I have never read a book like this before, so journey with me as I attempt to review the unfamiliar.
This book is literary fiction, a genre at am a novice in. For those that do not know (I did not), this means that the story is about the characters and the way they think/feel. It is not about the plot. For this reason, it took me a bit to read because I was waiting for “the hook” as they say. Plot wise, there is a bit of a hook but it is barely focused on and not at all the purpose of this story.
This story is about grief. And how two very different people go through the stages of grief over the same person in different seasons of life. The dialogue is truly what drives this story and it is very well done.
The writing style is immaculate. The authors voice is clear, poetic in a way, but not at all illusive. The metaphorical moments are not overdone, and the moments that are too real for the characters are demonstrated in true shock. There is no over-description, nor under-description at any point in the book.
The characters are very real and vividly relatable. Lydia Millet is an exceptional talent when it comes to making characters individuals instead of simply words on a page. Distinguishable traits, ticks, peeves, joys, and even a difference in inner monologues.
I am giving this a 4.3 star review. The .7 deficit is because I am not well versed in the genre and have nothing to compare it to.
This book is literary fiction, a genre at am a novice in. For those that do not know (I did not), this means that the story is about the characters and the way they think/feel. It is not about the plot. For this reason, it took me a bit to read because I was waiting for “the hook” as they say. Plot wise, there is a bit of a hook but it is barely focused on and not at all the purpose of this story.
This story is about grief. And how two very different people go through the stages of grief over the same person in different seasons of life. The dialogue is truly what drives this story and it is very well done.
The writing style is immaculate. The authors voice is clear, poetic in a way, but not at all illusive. The metaphorical moments are not overdone, and the moments that are too real for the characters are demonstrated in true shock. There is no over-description, nor under-description at any point in the book.
The characters are very real and vividly relatable. Lydia Millet is an exceptional talent when it comes to making characters individuals instead of simply words on a page. Distinguishable traits, ticks, peeves, joys, and even a difference in inner monologues.
I am giving this a 4.3 star review. The .7 deficit is because I am not well versed in the genre and have nothing to compare it to.
Review of advance copy received from Goodreads Giveaways
This is my first novel by Lydia Millet, and I think I just don't understand her writing style. Although I generally enjoy books that aren't plot driven, there are several scenes which seemed completely inconsequential/lacked intrigue, like when Mara traveled upstate to be a fifth wheel with the Hound. It was difficult to draw a specific conclusion from the first novel for me as well. I wish there had been a little more information about Mara's feelings since it often felt like, "someone said I should do this" then "I did it," without any intermediary following her reasoning for/against the action, which might have helped me understand her character more.
Additionally, maybe I don't understand the concept of a double novel, but my first impression was that it would be one of those back-to-back flip-flop books, and that was wrong. Then, I figured it would be two novels that were different perspectives of the same event, albeit from separate time points, that could in theory stand on their own as individual novels. Also wrong. I definitely enjoyed the second novel more than the first, but I do think they're two sections of the same book, not a double novel?
Additionally, maybe I don't understand the concept of a double novel, but my first impression was that it would be one of those back-to-back flip-flop books, and that was wrong. Then, I figured it would be two novels that were different perspectives of the same event, albeit from separate time points, that could in theory stand on their own as individual novels. Also wrong. I definitely enjoyed the second novel more than the first, but I do think they're two sections of the same book, not a double novel?
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Lydia Millet’s Fair Ones is an extremely well executed double novel that finds strength in character development, authentic dialogue, multiple points of intrigue and moments of unforgettable prose.
Two Brooklyn friends are faced with the sudden loss of their best friend and process the event during their own portion of the novel. Each part showcases a unique character perspective that covers themes of friendship, death, and change that take place during two different timelines.
We follow Mara first, directly after the shock of their friend’s death and Jen second, a year after the events take place.
Millet’s use of humor through tragedy truly sets her apart from modern literary fiction authors. She grounds her beautiful prose through these women in a refreshingly simple and human way while perforating darkness with levity.
I enjoyed the entire book and highly recommend!
Thanks W. W. Norton and NetGalley for the advanced review copy.
More info: https://wwnorton.com/books/9781324123675
Two Brooklyn friends are faced with the sudden loss of their best friend and process the event during their own portion of the novel. Each part showcases a unique character perspective that covers themes of friendship, death, and change that take place during two different timelines.
We follow Mara first, directly after the shock of their friend’s death and Jen second, a year after the events take place.
Millet’s use of humor through tragedy truly sets her apart from modern literary fiction authors. She grounds her beautiful prose through these women in a refreshingly simple and human way while perforating darkness with levity.
I enjoyed the entire book and highly recommend!
Thanks W. W. Norton and NetGalley for the advanced review copy.
More info: https://wwnorton.com/books/9781324123675
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
horoughly enjoyed "Fair Ones." Millet did a fabulous job creating multidimensional characters, close friends who shared the loss of a Claire, who died by gun violence. The novel is broken up by seasons. The first year after Claire dies is told by Jen, the second half, one year after Claire's death, is told by Mara, who is plagued by a dark secret. The three women were close friends for years, and in their 40's they remained unmarried and childless. There's a bit of mystique surrounding why the young boy shot their friend and some sleuthing in the search for answers. But it's not just a novel about the murder, the other characters in the novel become integral in the way they weave their lives after Claire's funeral and move the novel forward. Much of the novel is conversational, and even though it's a novel that deals with grief, it's also lighthearted and funny, a fast-paced novel that is a joy to read.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for allowing me to read and review an ARC of this book.
I loved Lydia Millet’s A Children’s Bible and had been meaning to read another book of hers. I am so glad I was able to read the Fair Ones and experience another of her lovely, thoughtful, bittersweet books. Her writing manages to be beautiful and insightful while also being quite witty. The double novel structure was a little jarring when the switch happened, but overall I found it an effective way of progressing the narrative while also bringing in a second perspective/point of view character. I enjoyed both Mara and Jen’s POVs (Mara’s a bit more because she is more open and kind, but Jen was also very interesting). As with Millet’s other work, both women are complex, nuanced characters. I am drawn to books where characters are long-time friends and this group felt realistic in their conflicts and connections.
I loved Lydia Millet’s A Children’s Bible and had been meaning to read another book of hers. I am so glad I was able to read the Fair Ones and experience another of her lovely, thoughtful, bittersweet books. Her writing manages to be beautiful and insightful while also being quite witty. The double novel structure was a little jarring when the switch happened, but overall I found it an effective way of progressing the narrative while also bringing in a second perspective/point of view character. I enjoyed both Mara and Jen’s POVs (Mara’s a bit more because she is more open and kind, but Jen was also very interesting). As with Millet’s other work, both women are complex, nuanced characters. I am drawn to books where characters are long-time friends and this group felt realistic in their conflicts and connections.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Claire, Mara and Jen, friends since college, single, in their 40’s, living in New York. When Clair is killed, the apparently random victim of a gun shot while waiting at a bus stop, Jen and Mara’s lives are upended. Millet has written a double novel around the death. The first part – Fair – which begins just after the murder is Mara’s account in which she seeks to adjust to the loss and its impact on her own challenges and relationships. The second part – Ones – which begins a year later, is Jen’s point of view. With smart dialogue and a cast of well-drawn characters, the book explores the challenges of friend and family relationships, grief, joy and finding meaning in managing the day to day demands of just living. It’s a fast paced, great read.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Loved this. It's alive with funny little very contemporary conversations, just the kind of thing that hooks me in and keeps me turning pages, and stuff HAPPENS, too, really quite dramatic events from time to time, but the conversations and little personal revelations are the focus. And there's a sincerity to them beyond the surface cleverness of the characters' banter. I'm so won over by Jen's being won over by sixteen-year-old Josh and his Meaning of Life in the wilderness talk, which literally got me kind of choked up. Best read of the year so far.
Thanks to Netgalley for the advance reading copy.
Thanks to Netgalley for the advance reading copy.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
3.5 stars rounded up.
Two women experience the sudden and tragic loss of their third musketeer friend. The loss reverberates through the next several years of the lives of the two remaining friends and other impacted individuals.
The themes expand to include midlife relationships and marriage, overcoming addiction, the longterm repercussions of loss, substance use, and violence.
I find this author’s writing precise and engaging. The topics in this book were a bit dark for a late summer read, but others won’t mind that and Lydia Millet is a reliably solid writer.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Two women experience the sudden and tragic loss of their third musketeer friend. The loss reverberates through the next several years of the lives of the two remaining friends and other impacted individuals.
The themes expand to include midlife relationships and marriage, overcoming addiction, the longterm repercussions of loss, substance use, and violence.
I find this author’s writing precise and engaging. The topics in this book were a bit dark for a late summer read, but others won’t mind that and Lydia Millet is a reliably solid writer.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
July 31, 2026
Fantastic book. It took me a few pages to adjust to the writing style and once I did I was absorbed. The women — early 40s like me — actually felt like me. Usually when women are my age in books they’re grownups. But I don’t see myself that way and I saw Jen and Mara the way I see myself thanks to the incredible writing. It all felt so real.
Also: funny, smart, even heartwarming. I really loved this one.
Thank you W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for an early copy in exchange for my honest review.
Also: funny, smart, even heartwarming. I really loved this one.
Thank you W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for an early copy in exchange for my honest review.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Fair Ones is not for me. It’s a soft DNF after reading about 80 pages. The content is not for me. Also the format and style aren’t for me. The two book method where one half is told from one person’s point of view and the other half is told from the other. The book is at least 90% dialogue, which is certainly unique and lends for a fast read, but I didn’t like the people and didn’t find the humor all that humorous.
Thanks to NetGalley and W.W. Norton & Company for the ARC in exchange for an honest review! All opinions and statements are my own.
Thanks to NetGalley and W.W. Norton & Company for the ARC in exchange for an honest review! All opinions and statements are my own.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
A compelling narrative of three millennials dealing with aging, parents, children, substance abuse, honesty, jobs, murder and sustaining friendships. All of which is to say dealing with life when you begin to realize that time is not on your side.
For almost 400 pages of dialogue, I was surprised by how quickly it went by and how it held my interest in the outcomes for the core characters. A perfect summer novel.
For almost 400 pages of dialogue, I was surprised by how quickly it went by and how it held my interest in the outcomes for the core characters. A perfect summer novel.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I read this almost entirely in one obsessive fugue state. poignant meditations on grief, shock, ptsd, the aftermath of a tragedy, and differing, almost disparate perspectives of the same encounter.
thanks to the publisher and netgalley for an early copy!
thanks to the publisher and netgalley for an early copy!
Review of advance copy received from Edelweiss+
A really beautiful (and funny!) mediation on grief, life, aging, and friendship
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