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Refuge: A Novel
In a near-future America ravaged by climate disasters, the Federal Resettlement Agency packs survivors from across the country into shelters like Refuge a dilapidated Portland hotel, and a purgatory for the displaced. Everyone is expected to pick up the pieces and “move on” as quickly as possible—but between crumbling infrastructure, hostile locals, and trauma that still haunts them, no one leaves easily.
Sierra Valentine has nothing left but the burn wounds from a wildfire that took the only person she stayed alive for. On the bus to Portland, she meets Teo, an undocumented boy who will vanish into a labyrinth of bureaucracy unless Sierra dares to do what scares her most, and care for him.
She can’t do it alone. As she tries to protect Teo, Sierra quickly finds herself entangled in the many broken lives of her new neighbors.
Kosumi McCloud is a guilt-ridden Indigenous engineer desperate to prove himself to the tribe he left behind. Clarice Jackson, the stern FRA director, is struggling to prove the resettlement program can work while dealing with an unplanned pregnancy that makes her question who and what really matters to her.
In a world that constantly threatens to take everything they love, the only thing standing between the residents of Refuge Inn and total collapse is the fragile, fierce decision to find home and salvation in each other.
Sierra Valentine has nothing left but the burn wounds from a wildfire that took the only person she stayed alive for. On the bus to Portland, she meets Teo, an undocumented boy who will vanish into a labyrinth of bureaucracy unless Sierra dares to do what scares her most, and care for him.
She can’t do it alone. As she tries to protect Teo, Sierra quickly finds herself entangled in the many broken lives of her new neighbors.
Kosumi McCloud is a guilt-ridden Indigenous engineer desperate to prove himself to the tribe he left behind. Clarice Jackson, the stern FRA director, is struggling to prove the resettlement program can work while dealing with an unplanned pregnancy that makes her question who and what really matters to her.
In a world that constantly threatens to take everything they love, the only thing standing between the residents of Refuge Inn and total collapse is the fragile, fierce decision to find home and salvation in each other.
333 pages, Kindle Edition
Published August 10, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
October 9, 2026
**A remarkable and deeply thought-provoking novel**
*Refuge* is a remarkable novel, and one that I think deserves a great deal of attention. What I particularly appreciate about this book is that it manages to explore some very serious political, legal and philosophical questions without losing sight of the individuals at the centre of them.
The novel explores climate displacement, but I think its significance extends well beyond environmental issues. At its heart, it raises some rather profound questions about human dignity, individual agency, community, and what it actually means to have a home. I was particularly struck by the tension between institutional responses to human suffering and the lived experiences of those whom these institutions are supposed to protect. It's an important distinction, and one that I think the authors explore in a very compelling way.
What makes *Refuge* especially interesting is that its characters are not simply passive victims of their circumstances. They are individuals attempting to exercise some control over their lives in a world that has become increasingly uncertain. There is something very moving about that, particularly in the relationships that develop between people who might otherwise never have encountered one another.
I also appreciate that the novel invites readers to think seriously about the future without reducing its subject matter to a political lecture. It is possible to engage with the broader questions it raises while also appreciating it simply as a story about people, their struggles, their choices, and their relationships with one another.
Randall Abate and Ethan Smestad have taken an enormously complex subject and made it accessible, personal and intellectually engaging. I think that is quite an achievement. *Refuge* is precisely the kind of fiction that can encourage important conversations beyond academia, and I would highly recommend it.
*Refuge* is a remarkable novel, and one that I think deserves a great deal of attention. What I particularly appreciate about this book is that it manages to explore some very serious political, legal and philosophical questions without losing sight of the individuals at the centre of them.
The novel explores climate displacement, but I think its significance extends well beyond environmental issues. At its heart, it raises some rather profound questions about human dignity, individual agency, community, and what it actually means to have a home. I was particularly struck by the tension between institutional responses to human suffering and the lived experiences of those whom these institutions are supposed to protect. It's an important distinction, and one that I think the authors explore in a very compelling way.
What makes *Refuge* especially interesting is that its characters are not simply passive victims of their circumstances. They are individuals attempting to exercise some control over their lives in a world that has become increasingly uncertain. There is something very moving about that, particularly in the relationships that develop between people who might otherwise never have encountered one another.
I also appreciate that the novel invites readers to think seriously about the future without reducing its subject matter to a political lecture. It is possible to engage with the broader questions it raises while also appreciating it simply as a story about people, their struggles, their choices, and their relationships with one another.
Randall Abate and Ethan Smestad have taken an enormously complex subject and made it accessible, personal and intellectually engaging. I think that is quite an achievement. *Refuge* is precisely the kind of fiction that can encourage important conversations beyond academia, and I would highly recommend it.
October 5, 2026
I didn't expect a climate novel to move me to tears, but here we are. Refuge follows a group of people displaced by wildfires who end up living together in an old Portland hotel converted into a shelter. The premise sounds bleak, and at times the book is, but at its core it's a story about people learning how to take care of one another and what makes a place home.
Family runs through every part of this book. Some of it is the family you're born into, like Kosumi and his larger-than-life father, and some of it is the family you find, like two strangers on an evacuation bus who slowly become each other's anchor. Watching these relationships form, strain, and hold together was the heart of the reading experience for me.
The climate crisis isn't just a backdrop here. It shapes everything, from the fires that drive people from their homes to the dying rivers and the communities fighting to save them. The book doesn't shy away from the uglier side of it either: the neighbors who don't want refugees nearby, the companies looking to profit from disaster, and the debates over how far we should go to fix what's been broken. It raises hard questions about where we're headed and what we owe each other when things fall apart, without ever slipping into a lecture.
What stayed with me most is how deeply human and raw it all feels. The characters are flawed, stubborn, funny, and scared, and Abate and Smestad give each of them enough depth that by the end I felt like they were my family too. I was sorry to leave them behind.
Honestly go read it. This is one I'll be recommending to everyone and well worth your time.
Family runs through every part of this book. Some of it is the family you're born into, like Kosumi and his larger-than-life father, and some of it is the family you find, like two strangers on an evacuation bus who slowly become each other's anchor. Watching these relationships form, strain, and hold together was the heart of the reading experience for me.
The climate crisis isn't just a backdrop here. It shapes everything, from the fires that drive people from their homes to the dying rivers and the communities fighting to save them. The book doesn't shy away from the uglier side of it either: the neighbors who don't want refugees nearby, the companies looking to profit from disaster, and the debates over how far we should go to fix what's been broken. It raises hard questions about where we're headed and what we owe each other when things fall apart, without ever slipping into a lecture.
What stayed with me most is how deeply human and raw it all feels. The characters are flawed, stubborn, funny, and scared, and Abate and Smestad give each of them enough depth that by the end I felt like they were my family too. I was sorry to leave them behind.
Honestly go read it. This is one I'll be recommending to everyone and well worth your time.
August 11, 2026
Refuge is an unflinching look at a world already unraveling, told through a diverse cast of characters from different cultures and communities. It's relatable, vivid, and asks what it really takes to survive together. You'll find yourself wanting more.
September 14, 2026
An excellent read! The novel artfully engages with many important facets of the ongoing climate crisis while telling a beautiful story about the people navigating it. I loved the diverse array of characters and the way they’re woven together.
September 5, 2026
What stayed with me after reading Refuge was not simply the story of people displaced by climate-related disasters, but the way displacement moves through everything around them.
People arrive carrying loss, fear, uncertainty, and the need to regain some control over their lives. But the communities receiving them are under pressure too. Institutions are trying to respond with limited capacity. Private actors bring resources and possible solutions, but also their own interests. As those pressures meet, people do not always behave in predictable or comfortable ways.
What makes this work as a novel is that these larger questions remain connected to the people living through them. Some of the most affecting moments come from the relationships and unexpected forms of family that emerge among people who did not choose to need one another. The story gives us displacement at the scale of systems, but also at the scale of everyday dependence, trust, and belonging.
I found this especially convincing because Refuge does not treat human behavior as separate from the conditions shaping it. The same pressure can generate fear, resistance, withdrawal, anger, or hostility, but it can also produce solidarity, improvisation, and forms of care. That complexity matters in conversations about displacement, where people are too easily reduced to categories: refugee, host, administrator, victim, threat.
I was equally interested in the institutional side of the story. The Federal Resettlement Agency is neither simply successful nor simply failing, and Refuge Village is not presented as a perfect solution. Each response may solve one problem while creating new questions about responsibility, ownership, trust, labor, data, and power. The novel understands something important here: responding to a crisis changes the system doing the responding.
Perhaps what I appreciated most is that recovery is not presented as a return to what existed before. The characters change. Their relationships change. Institutions adapt. Communities form, fracture, and form again. And people who once needed to be received eventually become part of the capacity to receive others.
Refuge ultimately left me with a more difficult question than whether our institutions are prepared for climate displacement: What happens when displacement itself begins changing the institutions, communities, relationships, and behaviors on which any response depends?
That is where I found the novel most thought-provoking. It treats climate mobility not as a problem that a system simply has to solve, but as a force that changes the system while the system is trying to respond.
I received an advance copy of this book from the author. The views expressed here are my own.
People arrive carrying loss, fear, uncertainty, and the need to regain some control over their lives. But the communities receiving them are under pressure too. Institutions are trying to respond with limited capacity. Private actors bring resources and possible solutions, but also their own interests. As those pressures meet, people do not always behave in predictable or comfortable ways.
What makes this work as a novel is that these larger questions remain connected to the people living through them. Some of the most affecting moments come from the relationships and unexpected forms of family that emerge among people who did not choose to need one another. The story gives us displacement at the scale of systems, but also at the scale of everyday dependence, trust, and belonging.
I found this especially convincing because Refuge does not treat human behavior as separate from the conditions shaping it. The same pressure can generate fear, resistance, withdrawal, anger, or hostility, but it can also produce solidarity, improvisation, and forms of care. That complexity matters in conversations about displacement, where people are too easily reduced to categories: refugee, host, administrator, victim, threat.
I was equally interested in the institutional side of the story. The Federal Resettlement Agency is neither simply successful nor simply failing, and Refuge Village is not presented as a perfect solution. Each response may solve one problem while creating new questions about responsibility, ownership, trust, labor, data, and power. The novel understands something important here: responding to a crisis changes the system doing the responding.
Perhaps what I appreciated most is that recovery is not presented as a return to what existed before. The characters change. Their relationships change. Institutions adapt. Communities form, fracture, and form again. And people who once needed to be received eventually become part of the capacity to receive others.
Refuge ultimately left me with a more difficult question than whether our institutions are prepared for climate displacement: What happens when displacement itself begins changing the institutions, communities, relationships, and behaviors on which any response depends?
That is where I found the novel most thought-provoking. It treats climate mobility not as a problem that a system simply has to solve, but as a force that changes the system while the system is trying to respond.
I received an advance copy of this book from the author. The views expressed here are my own.
August 19, 2026
Refuge is a moving and timely novel about climate displacement, grief, and unexpected forms of community, Set largely in and around the Refuge Inn, a resettlement shelter in Portland, the novel follows a diverse cast of characters whose lives have been upended by various disasters. At its emotional centre is the relationship between Sierra, a young woman carrying both physical and emotional wounds, and Teo, a boy she meets on the bus and reluctantly takes under her wing.
One of the novel's strengths is its attention to the small, human details of catastrophe. The climate crisis is everywhere in the background, but the story is most powerful in its intimate moments: a shared hotel room, a tense courtyard, and a makeshift garden to name a few. The Refuge Inn itself is a vivid and sometimes darkly funny setting as well. But what I appreciated most is that the novel does not offer easy comfort - its characters are flawed, wounded, funny, and frustrating all at once. Through them, Refuge ultimately asks what it means to offer shelter in a world where safety is increasingly fragile - a question I am increasingly asking myself in our current context. It is a thoughtful and affecting debut, full of urgency and tenderness at once.
One of the novel's strengths is its attention to the small, human details of catastrophe. The climate crisis is everywhere in the background, but the story is most powerful in its intimate moments: a shared hotel room, a tense courtyard, and a makeshift garden to name a few. The Refuge Inn itself is a vivid and sometimes darkly funny setting as well. But what I appreciated most is that the novel does not offer easy comfort - its characters are flawed, wounded, funny, and frustrating all at once. Through them, Refuge ultimately asks what it means to offer shelter in a world where safety is increasingly fragile - a question I am increasingly asking myself in our current context. It is a thoughtful and affecting debut, full of urgency and tenderness at once.
August 31, 2026
A timely and deeply human story about climate displacement
Refuge is much more than a novel about climate change. What stayed with me most was the way it turns the idea of climate-induced displacement into something deeply human. Instead of presenting displaced people simply as numbers or victims, the novel follows people who have lost their homes and are trying to rebuild some sense of belonging in an unfamiliar place.
I particularly appreciated the novel’s exploration of the relationship between displacement, identity, community, and the meaning of “home.” The story also raises difficult questions about whether government resettlement programs can genuinely protect displaced communities while navigating bureaucracy, limited resources, and social tensions.
A thought-provoking read that manages to bring an important climate-mobility conversation to a much wider audience. It left me thinking not only about where displaced people can go, but about what it really means to give someone a place to belong.
Refuge is much more than a novel about climate change. What stayed with me most was the way it turns the idea of climate-induced displacement into something deeply human. Instead of presenting displaced people simply as numbers or victims, the novel follows people who have lost their homes and are trying to rebuild some sense of belonging in an unfamiliar place.
I particularly appreciated the novel’s exploration of the relationship between displacement, identity, community, and the meaning of “home.” The story also raises difficult questions about whether government resettlement programs can genuinely protect displaced communities while navigating bureaucracy, limited resources, and social tensions.
A thought-provoking read that manages to bring an important climate-mobility conversation to a much wider audience. It left me thinking not only about where displaced people can go, but about what it really means to give someone a place to belong.
August 18, 2026
Refuge is an excellent peak at our not-so-distant future, if policy, politics, greed, and a lack of care for the earth continues as is. It seamlessly blends the intersections of the climate crisis, depicting how our race, age, class, and geography may shape a very different dystopia for each of us. While terrifying at some parts, Refuge also depicts just how crucial community care and collective action is for a safer, healthier, and more resilient future. I especially enjoyed the heartwarming moments with the characters finally coming together to create a better home for themselves -- something we can all aspire to do. Refuge puts a mirror to our present selves and demands we do better.
And we definitely can!!
And we definitely can!!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 16, 2026
My preferred stories are ones with questionable or morally grey characters who make mistakes and grow, and this book hit the nail on the head. #Stan
Humans who survived climate tragedies and are left to navigate unnatural bureaucracies. This is a thought-provoking novel about how life events change the trajectories of our lives, and how involved we become with one another. Strong "chosen family" theme as the characters' stories twine further and further together. Beautiful scenery, especially the pond scene. I appreciated how the authors broke through common tropes, meaning each character is complex and imperfect. Refuge is a heartwarming read. I enjoyed it.
Humans who survived climate tragedies and are left to navigate unnatural bureaucracies. This is a thought-provoking novel about how life events change the trajectories of our lives, and how involved we become with one another. Strong "chosen family" theme as the characters' stories twine further and further together. Beautiful scenery, especially the pond scene. I appreciated how the authors broke through common tropes, meaning each character is complex and imperfect. Refuge is a heartwarming read. I enjoyed it.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews