What do you think?
Rate this book
Brooklyn Browne
Twenty two year old Brooklyn Browne is the most famous socialite in the world, accustomed to catwalks and glamorous cities yet her past holds a dark secret… one she can no longer hide from. As Brooklyn races across the globe through nail-biting encounters to hunt down her captor, will she find herself on a date with destiny… or death?
As the inspiration for Star Wars and an expert in mythology Joseph Campbell attests, “Women are moving into the field and jungle of individual quest, achievement and self-realization for which there are no female models”... until now.
Brooklyn Browne is a hero’s journey of initiation, transformation and fate... and the heroine you've been waiting for.
For more information follow @brooklynbrowneofficial on Instagram & Facebook or visit www.brooklynbrowneofficial.com
As the inspiration for Star Wars and an expert in mythology Joseph Campbell attests, “Women are moving into the field and jungle of individual quest, achievement and self-realization for which there are no female models”... until now.
Brooklyn Browne is a hero’s journey of initiation, transformation and fate... and the heroine you've been waiting for.
For more information follow @brooklynbrowneofficial on Instagram & Facebook or visit www.brooklynbrowneofficial.com
611 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 9, 2018
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 of 1 review
July 5, 2025
Review Title: When Ego Outwrites Empathy
It’s immediately clear that this novel wasn’t written by a woman — not because a man can’t write a convincing female perspective, but because this particular author didn’t even try to understand one.
What we have here is less a work of fiction and more a case study in male ego masquerading as emotional insight. The female characters are caricatures: one-dimensional, over-sexualized, or impossibly virtuous — all orbiting the author’s narrow idea of what a “real woman” should be. Their inner lives are filtered through the lens of someone who seems more interested in proving how clever he is than actually capturing any truth.
It reads like a man writing about women, not for or as them — and certainly not with them in mind. Their thoughts, feelings, and choices feel inauthentic, even cartoonish at times. The emotional arcs miss the mark entirely, often veering into either melodrama or cliché.Worst of all, the writing carries that unmistakable tone of condescension — as though the author is explaining women to themselves. It’s not bold or daring; it’s presumptuous. And painfully unaware of its own limitations.
Writing outside one’s lived experience isn’t the problem — that’s what fiction is for. But doing so with arrogance, laziness, or a refusal to listen and learn? That’s not literature. That’s ego with a publishing deal.
It’s immediately clear that this novel wasn’t written by a woman — not because a man can’t write a convincing female perspective, but because this particular author didn’t even try to understand one.
What we have here is less a work of fiction and more a case study in male ego masquerading as emotional insight. The female characters are caricatures: one-dimensional, over-sexualized, or impossibly virtuous — all orbiting the author’s narrow idea of what a “real woman” should be. Their inner lives are filtered through the lens of someone who seems more interested in proving how clever he is than actually capturing any truth.
It reads like a man writing about women, not for or as them — and certainly not with them in mind. Their thoughts, feelings, and choices feel inauthentic, even cartoonish at times. The emotional arcs miss the mark entirely, often veering into either melodrama or cliché.Worst of all, the writing carries that unmistakable tone of condescension — as though the author is explaining women to themselves. It’s not bold or daring; it’s presumptuous. And painfully unaware of its own limitations.
Writing outside one’s lived experience isn’t the problem — that’s what fiction is for. But doing so with arrogance, laziness, or a refusal to listen and learn? That’s not literature. That’s ego with a publishing deal.
Displaying 1 of 1 review