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The Things I Agreed To
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Expected 6 Oct 26The debut psychological thriller by Jacob Anthony Rose, author of the critically acclaimed, #1 Amazon Best Seller (LGBTQ Hot New Memoirs), Stillness and Survival: A Life Between Trauma, Glitter, and the Echo of My Own Voice...a novel about silence, interpretation, and what happens when other people decide your story for you.
Susan Price writes psychological thrillers about women who reclaim control.
When her latest novel explodes online, readers insist it isn't fiction. They are certain it's confession.
A young, charismatic influencer amplifies the theory, framing Susan's silence as proof of buried truth.
But as interpretation turns to expectation, Susan realizes she is no longer the author of her own narrative.
As admiration hardens into entitlement, she must decide:
protect the myth that made her famous or reclaim herself and endure the fallout.
The Things I Agreed To is a precise psychological thriller about projection, authorship, and the cost of saying yes.
Susan Price writes psychological thrillers about women who reclaim control.
When her latest novel explodes online, readers insist it isn't fiction. They are certain it's confession.
A young, charismatic influencer amplifies the theory, framing Susan's silence as proof of buried truth.
But as interpretation turns to expectation, Susan realizes she is no longer the author of her own narrative.
As admiration hardens into entitlement, she must decide:
protect the myth that made her famous or reclaim herself and endure the fallout.
The Things I Agreed To is a precise psychological thriller about projection, authorship, and the cost of saying yes.
185 pages, Kindle Edition
Expected publication October 6, 2026
About the author
Jacob Anthony Rose
4 books21 followersJacob Anthony Rose is a San Francisco–based author, performer, and recording artist whose work explores survival, identity, and self-expression. His debut memoir, Stillness and Survival: A Life Between Trauma, Glitter, and the Echo of My Own Voice, was a critically acclaimed release and reached #1 on Amazon’s Hot New LGBTQ+ Memoirs chart.
For over two decades, Jacob has performed in drag as Sheena Rose, blending music, storytelling, and live performance into a singular artistic voice. His work across mediums is rooted in emotional honesty, transformation, and resilience.
On October 6th, 2026, he will release his debut psychological thriller, expanding into fiction while continuing to explore themes of perception, control, and identity.
He lives in San Francisco with his husband, Juan and their rescue cat, Luna.
For over two decades, Jacob has performed in drag as Sheena Rose, blending music, storytelling, and live performance into a singular artistic voice. His work across mediums is rooted in emotional honesty, transformation, and resilience.
On October 6th, 2026, he will release his debut psychological thriller, expanding into fiction while continuing to explore themes of perception, control, and identity.
He lives in San Francisco with his husband, Juan and their rescue cat, Luna.
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August 22, 2026ARC REVIEW
I’ll be honest… I’m not sure I would classify this one as a psychological thriller.
The premise definitely caught my attention. Susan Price writes psychological thrillers about women taking back control, but when her newest novel takes off, readers become convinced that the story isn’t fiction at all — it’s a confession.
Then a popular influencer takes the theory and runs with it, turning Susan’s silence into “proof” that there’s something she’s hiding. Suddenly, Susan is no longer in control of her own story, and the line between the author and the character people have created for her starts to disappear.
I thought the idea behind the story was interesting, especially the way it explores what happens when people become so invested in their version of you that they stop seeing the actual person.
The whole situation of strangers deciding they know the truth about Susan simply because they’ve read her book was definitely thought-provoking. There’s also something unsettling about watching admiration slowly turn into entitlement.
That being said, this was just an alright read for me. I kept waiting for it to feel more like the psychological thriller I was expecting, but it never quite got there for me. I think I went into it with different expectations, and that probably affected my enjoyment.
It wasn’t a bad book by any means, and I can see why the premise would appeal to readers who enjoy stories about authors, public perception, social media and the blurred line between fiction and reality.
Thanks @booksirens and @sheenaroseofficial for the opportunity to be an advanced reader.
I’ll be honest… I’m not sure I would classify this one as a psychological thriller.
The premise definitely caught my attention. Susan Price writes psychological thrillers about women taking back control, but when her newest novel takes off, readers become convinced that the story isn’t fiction at all — it’s a confession.
Then a popular influencer takes the theory and runs with it, turning Susan’s silence into “proof” that there’s something she’s hiding. Suddenly, Susan is no longer in control of her own story, and the line between the author and the character people have created for her starts to disappear.
I thought the idea behind the story was interesting, especially the way it explores what happens when people become so invested in their version of you that they stop seeing the actual person.
The whole situation of strangers deciding they know the truth about Susan simply because they’ve read her book was definitely thought-provoking. There’s also something unsettling about watching admiration slowly turn into entitlement.
That being said, this was just an alright read for me. I kept waiting for it to feel more like the psychological thriller I was expecting, but it never quite got there for me. I think I went into it with different expectations, and that probably affected my enjoyment.
It wasn’t a bad book by any means, and I can see why the premise would appeal to readers who enjoy stories about authors, public perception, social media and the blurred line between fiction and reality.
Thanks @booksirens and @sheenaroseofficial for the opportunity to be an advanced reader.
August 31, 2026
I received an advance reader copy of The Things I Agreed To through BookSirens in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
The Things I Agreed To — 4/10
2/5 stars
Some spoilers below.
I really wanted this to turn into something more than it did.
Part I actually gave me some hope. The setup had potential: a successful author releases a new novel, readers start questioning how autobiographical it might be, and the author becomes increasingly uncomfortable with the attention and demands for clarification. There was room here for a genuinely interesting story about trauma, privacy, authorship, public interpretation, and what happens when something personal becomes part of a public conversation.
Unfortunately, the book spends most of its runtime going through what I can only describe as the same nightmare blunt rotation over and over again.
Susan goes about her day. She gets an email, text, phone call, comment, or conversation about speaking up. The person is either demanding clarification or being extremely careful not to demand clarification. Susan analyzes their wording. She feels pressure or anxiety. She thinks about replying. She types something, deletes it, closes the laptop, waits, writes something later, takes Olive for a walk, makes coffee or tea, goes outside, calms down…and then we do it again.
And again.
And again.
The source of the message changes. The emotional result occasionally changes. The actual structure barely does.
The novel does technically escalate Susan’s situation. Readers speculate, publishing people become involved, appearances change, public figures enter the conversation, and eventually the discussion around her book becomes much larger than the book itself. But the story rarely feels like it is escalating because Susan keeps having almost the exact same internal realization: I do not owe them an explanation. Concern can become pressure. Silence is still a choice. Support can come with conditions. I do not have to participate.
Those are all legitimate ideas.
I just did not need nearly an entire novel repeating them.
Susan herself also became one of my biggest problems. By the end, I actively disliked her. I understood her position, but I found her pretentious, entitled, and strangely disconnected from the reality of being a public author.
And I want to be very clear about this because there is an important distinction here: Susan does not owe anybody the details of her assault.
She does not owe readers a play-by-play. She does not have to identify who assaulted her, describe exactly what happened, relive it in interviews, or hand strangers pieces of her trauma simply because they ask.
I actually think the book is strongest when it defends that boundary. There is something worthwhile here about survivors maintaining ownership over their own experiences and refusing to let other people turn their trauma into public property.
But I think the novel takes that argument too far.
Susan deliberately writes fiction using lived experience as inspiration and intentionally leaves parts of it ambiguous. She then releases that work publicly, benefits from its success, reaches number one on the New York Times bestseller list, and becomes increasingly upset that readers, journalists, other writers, and people affected by the subject matter want to discuss what she has written.
You can refuse to answer questions.
You cannot publish something publicly and expect the public conversation surrounding it to disappear because you have decided not to participate.
Those are two different things.
And I also think writers who choose to publicly write about serious trauma carry at least some responsibility toward the audience they invite into that material. Again, that does not mean surrendering private details. But people read books to understand themselves. Survivors may recognize their own PTSD, fear, shame, or experiences in your work. Some may be trying to figure out how another person survived what they are going through.
If you intentionally put that material into the world, make money from it, build an audience around it, and allow it to become part of a public conversation, I do not think “I said what I said, now everyone leave me alone” is always enough.
Susan can have boundaries while still acknowledging the people her work affects.
The novel rarely seems interested in seriously exploring that middle ground.
Instead, it eventually introduces Lauren as a much easier antagonist. Lauren does become increasingly pushy and entitled, especially once she insists Susan has a responsibility to elaborate after publicly naming the assault. Susan is completely justified in refusing that. But most of the book is not Lauren. Earlier readers and publishing people asking questions are repeatedly framed through the same suspicious lens until almost any request for discussion begins to look like an attempt to control Susan.
That made the philosophical conflict feel increasingly stacked in Susan’s favor rather than genuinely complicated.
My other major problem is the genre.
This is presented as a psychological thriller. The author bio even calls it a psychological thriller.
I did not feel like I was reading one.
Susan experiences anxiety and trauma responses, but that alone does not make something psychological suspense. I never felt uncertain about reality, Susan’s memory in a way that created meaningful mystery, her motives, who could be trusted, whether someone was coming after her, or whether some revelation was going to completely change what I thought I knew.
And there was almost nothing thrilling about it.
Sexual assault can absolutely exist within a thriller, but sexual assault itself is not a thriller twist.
The book spends so long heavily implying that Susan experienced some kind of assault or coercion that when she finally writes, “I was assaulted,” my reaction was not shock. It was basically, “Yes. We know.”
That is confirmation, not revelation.
By about 70% through the book, the suspense was completely dead for me. I realized there was basically nothing the ending could reveal that would make the repetitive buildup worth it.
And then the book did not reveal anything anyway.
Susan eventually posts a statement acknowledging that the experience referenced in her novel was assault and refuses further details. At the very end, after Lauren contacts her again, Susan adds one final sentence to the statement:
“This is not a conversation.”
Then she goes inside her sister’s house.
That is the ending.
There is no major twist. No revelation about what actually happened. No recontextualization of the novel we have just read. No discovery that changes Susan, Lauren, the book inside the book, or the reader’s understanding of everything that came before.
Susan simply repeats the position she has held for most of the story, only more definitively.
And then, somewhat hilariously, the very next thing in the book is an eleven-question discussion guide asking readers to have a conversation about the novel.
I also never really came to know Susan as a person. I knew she was an author. I knew she had Olive. I knew she had been through something traumatic. I knew she valued privacy and hated being pressured. But after an entire novel, she still felt more like a vehicle for the book’s argument than a fully realized character.
You could have changed her name to Billy halfway through and I probably would have needed a second to remember what her name originally was.
The writing itself is readable and mostly clean on a basic sentence level, but it is also extremely repetitive stylistically. The book constantly isolates words like responsibility, clarification, support, access, silence, or control and then spends paragraphs explaining what they secretly mean. There are endless variations of “not this, but that,” emotional metaphors, bodily reactions, careful wording, still rooms, coffee, phones, laptops, walks, and Olive grounding Susan again.
By the end, even the prose started feeling trapped in the same rotation as the plot.
There is a potentially good book buried in here. Part I starts building one. And I do respect the idea of defending survivors from people who believe disclosure gives them unlimited access to someone else’s trauma.
But as a psychological thriller, this completely failed for me. As a drama about trauma and public discourse, it might have fit better—but the repetition, weak characterization, one-sided treatment of its central argument, and lack of payoff would still be major problems.
I finished it because it was an ARC and I wanted to give the writer a fair chance.
Unfortunately, the ending confirmed most of the problems I had been having since early in the book rather than resolving any of them.
4/10.
2/5 stars.
The Things I Agreed To — 4/10
2/5 stars
Some spoilers below.
I really wanted this to turn into something more than it did.
Part I actually gave me some hope. The setup had potential: a successful author releases a new novel, readers start questioning how autobiographical it might be, and the author becomes increasingly uncomfortable with the attention and demands for clarification. There was room here for a genuinely interesting story about trauma, privacy, authorship, public interpretation, and what happens when something personal becomes part of a public conversation.
Unfortunately, the book spends most of its runtime going through what I can only describe as the same nightmare blunt rotation over and over again.
Susan goes about her day. She gets an email, text, phone call, comment, or conversation about speaking up. The person is either demanding clarification or being extremely careful not to demand clarification. Susan analyzes their wording. She feels pressure or anxiety. She thinks about replying. She types something, deletes it, closes the laptop, waits, writes something later, takes Olive for a walk, makes coffee or tea, goes outside, calms down…and then we do it again.
And again.
And again.
The source of the message changes. The emotional result occasionally changes. The actual structure barely does.
The novel does technically escalate Susan’s situation. Readers speculate, publishing people become involved, appearances change, public figures enter the conversation, and eventually the discussion around her book becomes much larger than the book itself. But the story rarely feels like it is escalating because Susan keeps having almost the exact same internal realization: I do not owe them an explanation. Concern can become pressure. Silence is still a choice. Support can come with conditions. I do not have to participate.
Those are all legitimate ideas.
I just did not need nearly an entire novel repeating them.
Susan herself also became one of my biggest problems. By the end, I actively disliked her. I understood her position, but I found her pretentious, entitled, and strangely disconnected from the reality of being a public author.
And I want to be very clear about this because there is an important distinction here: Susan does not owe anybody the details of her assault.
She does not owe readers a play-by-play. She does not have to identify who assaulted her, describe exactly what happened, relive it in interviews, or hand strangers pieces of her trauma simply because they ask.
I actually think the book is strongest when it defends that boundary. There is something worthwhile here about survivors maintaining ownership over their own experiences and refusing to let other people turn their trauma into public property.
But I think the novel takes that argument too far.
Susan deliberately writes fiction using lived experience as inspiration and intentionally leaves parts of it ambiguous. She then releases that work publicly, benefits from its success, reaches number one on the New York Times bestseller list, and becomes increasingly upset that readers, journalists, other writers, and people affected by the subject matter want to discuss what she has written.
You can refuse to answer questions.
You cannot publish something publicly and expect the public conversation surrounding it to disappear because you have decided not to participate.
Those are two different things.
And I also think writers who choose to publicly write about serious trauma carry at least some responsibility toward the audience they invite into that material. Again, that does not mean surrendering private details. But people read books to understand themselves. Survivors may recognize their own PTSD, fear, shame, or experiences in your work. Some may be trying to figure out how another person survived what they are going through.
If you intentionally put that material into the world, make money from it, build an audience around it, and allow it to become part of a public conversation, I do not think “I said what I said, now everyone leave me alone” is always enough.
Susan can have boundaries while still acknowledging the people her work affects.
The novel rarely seems interested in seriously exploring that middle ground.
Instead, it eventually introduces Lauren as a much easier antagonist. Lauren does become increasingly pushy and entitled, especially once she insists Susan has a responsibility to elaborate after publicly naming the assault. Susan is completely justified in refusing that. But most of the book is not Lauren. Earlier readers and publishing people asking questions are repeatedly framed through the same suspicious lens until almost any request for discussion begins to look like an attempt to control Susan.
That made the philosophical conflict feel increasingly stacked in Susan’s favor rather than genuinely complicated.
My other major problem is the genre.
This is presented as a psychological thriller. The author bio even calls it a psychological thriller.
I did not feel like I was reading one.
Susan experiences anxiety and trauma responses, but that alone does not make something psychological suspense. I never felt uncertain about reality, Susan’s memory in a way that created meaningful mystery, her motives, who could be trusted, whether someone was coming after her, or whether some revelation was going to completely change what I thought I knew.
And there was almost nothing thrilling about it.
Sexual assault can absolutely exist within a thriller, but sexual assault itself is not a thriller twist.
The book spends so long heavily implying that Susan experienced some kind of assault or coercion that when she finally writes, “I was assaulted,” my reaction was not shock. It was basically, “Yes. We know.”
That is confirmation, not revelation.
By about 70% through the book, the suspense was completely dead for me. I realized there was basically nothing the ending could reveal that would make the repetitive buildup worth it.
And then the book did not reveal anything anyway.
Susan eventually posts a statement acknowledging that the experience referenced in her novel was assault and refuses further details. At the very end, after Lauren contacts her again, Susan adds one final sentence to the statement:
“This is not a conversation.”
Then she goes inside her sister’s house.
That is the ending.
There is no major twist. No revelation about what actually happened. No recontextualization of the novel we have just read. No discovery that changes Susan, Lauren, the book inside the book, or the reader’s understanding of everything that came before.
Susan simply repeats the position she has held for most of the story, only more definitively.
And then, somewhat hilariously, the very next thing in the book is an eleven-question discussion guide asking readers to have a conversation about the novel.
I also never really came to know Susan as a person. I knew she was an author. I knew she had Olive. I knew she had been through something traumatic. I knew she valued privacy and hated being pressured. But after an entire novel, she still felt more like a vehicle for the book’s argument than a fully realized character.
You could have changed her name to Billy halfway through and I probably would have needed a second to remember what her name originally was.
The writing itself is readable and mostly clean on a basic sentence level, but it is also extremely repetitive stylistically. The book constantly isolates words like responsibility, clarification, support, access, silence, or control and then spends paragraphs explaining what they secretly mean. There are endless variations of “not this, but that,” emotional metaphors, bodily reactions, careful wording, still rooms, coffee, phones, laptops, walks, and Olive grounding Susan again.
By the end, even the prose started feeling trapped in the same rotation as the plot.
There is a potentially good book buried in here. Part I starts building one. And I do respect the idea of defending survivors from people who believe disclosure gives them unlimited access to someone else’s trauma.
But as a psychological thriller, this completely failed for me. As a drama about trauma and public discourse, it might have fit better—but the repetition, weak characterization, one-sided treatment of its central argument, and lack of payoff would still be major problems.
I finished it because it was an ARC and I wanted to give the writer a fair chance.
Unfortunately, the ending confirmed most of the problems I had been having since early in the book rather than resolving any of them.
4/10.
2/5 stars.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 2, 2026
ARC REVIEW 📚
I really enjoyed this book! It was short and sweet, and exactly what I was after in the moment.
While I was reading it, I couldn’t help but internally narrate it in the same style as the Wes Anderson adaptations of Roald Dahl’s stories. The somewhat choppy ‘matter-of-fact’ voice was how this book read to me - and I loved that! Reading it felt personal, yet not in a way that left me emotionally scarred, staring at my living room wall unable to cope (which was… refreshing). It was a bit repetitive sometimes, but I think the repetitiveness fit with the mood and the voice of the MC, Susan. I also think Jacob did a great job making this story seem like a reality. And it really did make me question: what is my job - my impact - as a reader? When do readers go too far?
If you’re looking for a quick, easy, thought-provoking read, this book is for you. If you’re looking for a twisty mystery packed full of action, maybe it’s not for you.
Disclaimer: I received an advance reader copy (ARC) of this book for free, and am leaving my honest review voluntarily.
I really enjoyed this book! It was short and sweet, and exactly what I was after in the moment.
While I was reading it, I couldn’t help but internally narrate it in the same style as the Wes Anderson adaptations of Roald Dahl’s stories. The somewhat choppy ‘matter-of-fact’ voice was how this book read to me - and I loved that! Reading it felt personal, yet not in a way that left me emotionally scarred, staring at my living room wall unable to cope (which was… refreshing). It was a bit repetitive sometimes, but I think the repetitiveness fit with the mood and the voice of the MC, Susan. I also think Jacob did a great job making this story seem like a reality. And it really did make me question: what is my job - my impact - as a reader? When do readers go too far?
If you’re looking for a quick, easy, thought-provoking read, this book is for you. If you’re looking for a twisty mystery packed full of action, maybe it’s not for you.
Disclaimer: I received an advance reader copy (ARC) of this book for free, and am leaving my honest review voluntarily.
Review of advance copy received from Indie Reviewers
Jacob Anthony Rose’s The Things I Agreed To turns a book release into a test of how long a writer can decline to explain herself. On release morning, novelist Susan Price lets the phone vibrate and takes the dog out. The messages keep coming anyway.
Susan lives in a city apartment with Olive, whose world is sidewalk, biscuit, and Randy’s newsstand. Norbridge House has released her latest novel, which shares this book’s title, after three years of work she prefers not to discuss. She has agreed to being read and to silence afterward. Online posts lift her scenes as if they were a personal record. Claire, her publicist, checks in with concern that is also a request, and the publisher offers protection by shaping the narrative. Once silence is read as evidence, it begins attaching itself to her name. Therapy fragments break into mornings at the counter. Kate and Mara stay, and neither presses her to speak.
Rose dates the book by calendar and clock, so pressure gathers hour by hour. He writes close, from the kitchen and from what Susan’s body is doing. Most dialogue comes in professional sentences that sound like care. People around Susan stay quiet company more than conversation. Olive’s walk keeps time without commentary. Flashbacks cut mid-routine, then return to an apartment that has not moved.
This is for readers who will stay with a writer under watch, and it is worth staying. The suspense lives in how she is read, in attention more than in incident. What remains is the cost of being read too closely.
Susan lives in a city apartment with Olive, whose world is sidewalk, biscuit, and Randy’s newsstand. Norbridge House has released her latest novel, which shares this book’s title, after three years of work she prefers not to discuss. She has agreed to being read and to silence afterward. Online posts lift her scenes as if they were a personal record. Claire, her publicist, checks in with concern that is also a request, and the publisher offers protection by shaping the narrative. Once silence is read as evidence, it begins attaching itself to her name. Therapy fragments break into mornings at the counter. Kate and Mara stay, and neither presses her to speak.
Rose dates the book by calendar and clock, so pressure gathers hour by hour. He writes close, from the kitchen and from what Susan’s body is doing. Most dialogue comes in professional sentences that sound like care. People around Susan stay quiet company more than conversation. Olive’s walk keeps time without commentary. Flashbacks cut mid-routine, then return to an apartment that has not moved.
This is for readers who will stay with a writer under watch, and it is worth staying. The suspense lives in how she is read, in attention more than in incident. What remains is the cost of being read too closely.
Review of advance copy
I picked this up expecting a quick thriller and ended up feeling weirdly uneasy, in the best way.
Susan is a novelist whose book goes viral, and readers decide it must be her real life. Nobody wants to hear that it's fiction. They want a confession.
What Rose does so well is show how quickly people go from being fans to feeling like they're owed something.
It never gets loud or over the top, which makes it creepier. You watch the line between "I love your work" and "I know who you really are" disappear, and Susan is stuck in the middle of it.
I found myself getting a little angry on her behalf, which says a lot about how well it's written.
It's a tight, tense read, and it left me thinking about how much of ourselves we hand over without noticing.
My thanks to the author and Booksirens for the ARC. All views are my own.
Susan is a novelist whose book goes viral, and readers decide it must be her real life. Nobody wants to hear that it's fiction. They want a confession.
What Rose does so well is show how quickly people go from being fans to feeling like they're owed something.
It never gets loud or over the top, which makes it creepier. You watch the line between "I love your work" and "I know who you really are" disappear, and Susan is stuck in the middle of it.
I found myself getting a little angry on her behalf, which says a lot about how well it's written.
It's a tight, tense read, and it left me thinking about how much of ourselves we hand over without noticing.
My thanks to the author and Booksirens for the ARC. All views are my own.
September 13, 2026
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
This book is about what happens when a writer publishes a book that becomes so intensely critiqued that the public decides it knows the truth about her—and refuses to accept her right to keep that truth private.
This book is listed as a psychological thriller and it just fell flat for me. It was a lot of repetition in the main characters day to day life and her experiences with the feedback of her published book. I did enjoy the writing style of Jacob Anthony Rose, but the story itself just did not do it for me.
This book is about what happens when a writer publishes a book that becomes so intensely critiqued that the public decides it knows the truth about her—and refuses to accept her right to keep that truth private.
This book is listed as a psychological thriller and it just fell flat for me. It was a lot of repetition in the main characters day to day life and her experiences with the feedback of her published book. I did enjoy the writing style of Jacob Anthony Rose, but the story itself just did not do it for me.
Review of advance copy
I found this to be such an intriguing read. I was constantly compelled to keep turning the pages, wanting to understand exactly what was causing such controversy among the readers of the author’s newly published novel.
We follow an author whose book has sparked intense discussion, particularly from a prominent book influencer who pressures her to clarify what the story is really about. As the speculation grows, so do the rumors surrounding the author herself,her life, her past, and the personal experiences that may have inspired her writing.
What I found especially fascinating was that we never actually learn what the controversial book is about. Instead, we experience it entirely through the reactions, interpretations, and conversations surrounding it. The protagonist's refusal to interact left me speculating as well.
The book also explores trauma, healing, and the deeply personal ways people process their experiences. I really enjoyed how those themes unfolded alongside the growing speculation surrounding the author.
Overall, this was a very thought-provoking and intriguing read. I found myself wanting to go back and experience it again, knowing what I know now.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
We follow an author whose book has sparked intense discussion, particularly from a prominent book influencer who pressures her to clarify what the story is really about. As the speculation grows, so do the rumors surrounding the author herself,her life, her past, and the personal experiences that may have inspired her writing.
What I found especially fascinating was that we never actually learn what the controversial book is about. Instead, we experience it entirely through the reactions, interpretations, and conversations surrounding it. The protagonist's refusal to interact left me speculating as well.
The book also explores trauma, healing, and the deeply personal ways people process their experiences. I really enjoyed how those themes unfolded alongside the growing speculation surrounding the author.
Overall, this was a very thought-provoking and intriguing read. I found myself wanting to go back and experience it again, knowing what I know now.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Review of advance copy
⭐⭐⭐⭐
The Things I Agreed To by Jacob Anthony Rose is a fascinating, sharp, and eye-opening behind-the-scenes dive into the publishing industry that reveals the hidden costs of turning creativity into a business.
The story reveals a side of the book world that most readers never see, showing the wild compromises, intense industry pressure, and surprising trade-offs that happen out of sight. Jacob Anthony Rose tells an engaging story about what happens when passion meets the demands of big business, making you think twice about every deal and hidden clause. This book gives you a fresh perspective that will change how you see the publishing world after you finish reading.
With an intriguing premise and a steadily building momentum, the narrative keeps you completely hooked from start to finish. It balances realistic industry grit with compelling character dynamics, delivering a smart, thought-provoking read that stays with you long after you put it down. Delivering a brilliant insider peek, sharp real-world tension, and a deeply satisfying story, this book earns 4 well-deserved, eye-opening stars! 📑✒️👀
The Things I Agreed To by Jacob Anthony Rose is a fascinating, sharp, and eye-opening behind-the-scenes dive into the publishing industry that reveals the hidden costs of turning creativity into a business.
The story reveals a side of the book world that most readers never see, showing the wild compromises, intense industry pressure, and surprising trade-offs that happen out of sight. Jacob Anthony Rose tells an engaging story about what happens when passion meets the demands of big business, making you think twice about every deal and hidden clause. This book gives you a fresh perspective that will change how you see the publishing world after you finish reading.
With an intriguing premise and a steadily building momentum, the narrative keeps you completely hooked from start to finish. It balances realistic industry grit with compelling character dynamics, delivering a smart, thought-provoking read that stays with you long after you put it down. Delivering a brilliant insider peek, sharp real-world tension, and a deeply satisfying story, this book earns 4 well-deserved, eye-opening stars! 📑✒️👀
Review of advance copy
Things that I agreed to by Jacob Antony Rose, a brilliantly constructed psychological triller following a recently published novel by Susan Price. She's supposed to be enjoying her success but instead the media motivated by an enthusiastic influencer Laura turns all her excitement into horror. The suspense of the novel is so realistic it invites you in. The media pressurizes her to clarify, explain and take accountability due to her silence on questions asked about the novel. Susan now feels the media and readers are asking for more than is already written on the book and she feels some type a way that the novel is no longer in her hands and she is loosing control of it and the situation.
Reading John's psychological thriller felt exactly how the media can portrait something out of context and make you feel that whatever you may say to try to justify or clarify may not be enough. At the end I was proud of Susan for standing up and breaking the silence without giving anything away.
I recommend this book for someone who likes suspense, thriller and something close to realistic.
Reading John's psychological thriller felt exactly how the media can portrait something out of context and make you feel that whatever you may say to try to justify or clarify may not be enough. At the end I was proud of Susan for standing up and breaking the silence without giving anything away.
I recommend this book for someone who likes suspense, thriller and something close to realistic.
Review of advance copy received from Storygraph
I found this an excellent commentary on the line between art and the public perceptions of it. Through a (theoretically fiction) book, the author asks us to examine what happens when art doesn't explain itself, and what consumers of the art are really allowed to ask (or be privy to). It asks us to examine our world that is constantly connected and how quickly one person's need for answers can get amplified and distorted by the echo chambers of the Internet.
Unfortunately, the people who need to read and think about this book probably won't do so, but hopefully everyone who does will take its message and reflect on it, shifting the public tone.
After a little formatting work, this should be a great read!
[I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.]
Unfortunately, the people who need to read and think about this book probably won't do so, but hopefully everyone who does will take its message and reflect on it, shifting the public tone.
After a little formatting work, this should be a great read!
[I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.]
Review of advance copy
I wanted to like this book, but I just never did get into it. Had I not agreed to read and review this one as an ARC, I likely would not have finished it. I get the irony of the author in the story being accused of not sharing enough, and then the book itself largely doing the same. But I also felt like this was a 30 page story made into a ~200 page book, with the first chapter telling the story and the rest just building the same anxiety but adding nothing.
I really wish I could say I enjoyed it. It wasn't enough for me to outright give up, but it was highly disappointing for me.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
I really wish I could say I enjoyed it. It wasn't enough for me to outright give up, but it was highly disappointing for me.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Review of advance copy
This is such a different type of thriller. I loved it. I'm not a big user of social media, and I'm boggled by how invasive it can be in people's lives. It's the new paparazzi, and the question often is, if you put yourself into the public domain, how can you complain when it invades your personal space? Social media has brought that invasion even closer, and this book explores that question in a very thought-provoking way. This is a gripping, well-written read that unfolds so well. My thanks to BookSirens for the opportunity to read it.
Review of advance copy
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily. This was a different type of thriller. It is written in short sentences that pack a punch and add to the ambience of the story. I really enjoyed this writing style. It brings to light the criticism of being in the public eye. Something bad happened to Susan which has been mentioned in her newest book, however, we are never given the full details, and we are not made aware of what her book is about. There is an air of mystery to this novel.
Review of advance copy
This was honestly a tough read for me. I’m not sure I would consider this a psychological thriller for one and I felt as if I read the same thing over and over. Felt as if this could have been a much, much shorter book.
Review of advance copy
This is definitely quite unique book. received it as Arc and leaving honest review. I liked it. Short story with short sentences. Writing style is good. There is mystery in this book. Something happened but not sure what it is and no full story about it)) Keep guessing!
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