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3.94 AVERAGE
3.94 AVERAGE
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Review to come. // Thank you to NetGalley and Dutton for the advanced e-copy in exchange for an honest review.
having loved Out of Love last year, Better By Far was one of my most anticipated reads in 2024 so I was thrilled to win a copy in a giveaway! unfortunately, it didn’t quite land the way Out of Love did. hayes is a skilled writer and there are plenty of beautiful sentences, but the plot is mostly obscured by overwhelming tide of grief that the main character must wade through.
quotes I loved:
“I mean, I know you love me. Despite it all, I know you love me. And I love you too. But loving someone and liking someone are two very different things. Loving someone is almost an impulse, a physiological response to your shared experiences. Loving someone means that their absence would make you sad, but their presence doesn't necessarily make you happy.
That's reserved for liking someone—liking who they are, liking who you are around them, and therefore wanting to spend time with them. So basically what you said is that if I died tomorrow you'd be sad, but while I'm still living, you'd rather not be near me, if it's all the same.”
“To be clear, no one wants to write a book; they want to have already written one—it's the difference between wanting clean teeth and wanting to have them cleaned. Anyone who tells you they want to write is either lying or not doing it properly. Oh, they're probably putting words on a page alright, but then you might as well be jotting down a recipe or a shopping lit. Writing, for me, isn't about putting words on a page; it’s about putting myself on the page, leaving so much of myself there that I go to bed wondering if perhaps, this time, I give too much away, whether I've kept enough to get by on.”
“That's what writing feels like sometimes—cursing at rabbits; I spend entire days berating sentences for not being better. As though it's their fault and not mine.
But even when I hate them, I still love them. Just as a painter has to love the smell of paint, or a sculptor the feel of wet clay between their fingers, a writer must love sentences.
All of them. Because every sentence written, no matter how mediocre, brings us one step closer to the elusive perfect sentence, that rare beast we spend our whole lives hunting-not to keep or to tame, just to find, to say we have found it. Like a butterfly between cupped hands, we hold each perfect sentence close, allowing ourselves to peek in and marvel at its precious form before setting it free, knowing it was not meant for us alone. This is the secret—to write not for the page or even the paragraph, just the next good sentence. And once it's been found, to let it fly.”
“I asked you once if you ever worry you'll run out of melodies.
"Of course not," you said, laughing. You actually laughed.
"Why worry," you added, "when there are endless possible combinations of notes?"
Such a logical way of looking at it. And I know that words, too, can be arranged in infinite beautiful ways. But my fear is less about the existence of good sentences and more about my ability to find them. To continue to dive for them day after day.
There are days, rare, hallowed days, when writing feels less like dredging my depths and more like ambling along the shoreline of my psyche, collecting all the gleaming gems conveniently scattered there. I gather them up, rinse away the sit and sand, and arrange them in pretty formations for people to enjoy.
But most days I go under. I dive and dive, barely coming up for air until I find myself deposited once more on the slow, wet sand, exhausted but empty-handed. On these days, I haul my tired body up and trudge begrudgingly homeward, all the while convincing myself to never come back here again.
But I do.
I always come back.”
quotes I loved:
“I mean, I know you love me. Despite it all, I know you love me. And I love you too. But loving someone and liking someone are two very different things. Loving someone is almost an impulse, a physiological response to your shared experiences. Loving someone means that their absence would make you sad, but their presence doesn't necessarily make you happy.
That's reserved for liking someone—liking who they are, liking who you are around them, and therefore wanting to spend time with them. So basically what you said is that if I died tomorrow you'd be sad, but while I'm still living, you'd rather not be near me, if it's all the same.”
“To be clear, no one wants to write a book; they want to have already written one—it's the difference between wanting clean teeth and wanting to have them cleaned. Anyone who tells you they want to write is either lying or not doing it properly. Oh, they're probably putting words on a page alright, but then you might as well be jotting down a recipe or a shopping lit. Writing, for me, isn't about putting words on a page; it’s about putting myself on the page, leaving so much of myself there that I go to bed wondering if perhaps, this time, I give too much away, whether I've kept enough to get by on.”
“That's what writing feels like sometimes—cursing at rabbits; I spend entire days berating sentences for not being better. As though it's their fault and not mine.
But even when I hate them, I still love them. Just as a painter has to love the smell of paint, or a sculptor the feel of wet clay between their fingers, a writer must love sentences.
All of them. Because every sentence written, no matter how mediocre, brings us one step closer to the elusive perfect sentence, that rare beast we spend our whole lives hunting-not to keep or to tame, just to find, to say we have found it. Like a butterfly between cupped hands, we hold each perfect sentence close, allowing ourselves to peek in and marvel at its precious form before setting it free, knowing it was not meant for us alone. This is the secret—to write not for the page or even the paragraph, just the next good sentence. And once it's been found, to let it fly.”
“I asked you once if you ever worry you'll run out of melodies.
"Of course not," you said, laughing. You actually laughed.
"Why worry," you added, "when there are endless possible combinations of notes?"
Such a logical way of looking at it. And I know that words, too, can be arranged in infinite beautiful ways. But my fear is less about the existence of good sentences and more about my ability to find them. To continue to dive for them day after day.
There are days, rare, hallowed days, when writing feels less like dredging my depths and more like ambling along the shoreline of my psyche, collecting all the gleaming gems conveniently scattered there. I gather them up, rinse away the sit and sand, and arrange them in pretty formations for people to enjoy.
But most days I go under. I dive and dive, barely coming up for air until I find myself deposited once more on the slow, wet sand, exhausted but empty-handed. On these days, I haul my tired body up and trudge begrudgingly homeward, all the while convincing myself to never come back here again.
But I do.
I always come back.”
In Better By Far, Hazel Hayes chronicles grief as Kate processes a current break-up, reliving some of the trauma from her mother’s passing year’s prior. The book slides back and forth in time, as Kate relives memories of the past, haunted by some. Told mostly as a letter to her Ex, Kate examines what she’s feeling every moment of the break-up, from its inception to the months that pass. What you leave with is a sense of hope, a light at the end of a dark dark tunnel, but it doesn’t come in the form of sunshines and rainbows, sugarcoat nowhere to be seen, but comes in the form that many of us live with grief, a coat over our shoulders, a shadow that follows us and one day it fades, but could resurge. The grief that sits with us in that may make us sad but it’s better by far to forget and be happy than remember and be sad, is it not? Hayes so beautifully captures this feeling, that grieving sits with all of us and one day we will smile and not be sad, that we need to get to that point, to not let it burden us but with that tinge of knowing it never will truly be forgotten, just something we live with, something that cloaks us in the everyday. Waiting for happiness as if it would simply appear on our doorstep, waiting for that next thing that will make it all go away, through Kate’s journey, we learn that waiting for something like that is pointless because then our whole life is spent in that liminal space, it’s best to break free of it, shed that feeling and embrace now. This novel is quite heavy in scope and content, so before reading be sure to prepare yourself by checking in on your own place with grief and make sure you can handle examining someone else’s story.
This novel will stay with me for a long time, especially as life goes on, people leave, things change, I feel as if I will return to Hayes’ story as a reminder that so many of us deal with grief daily, while isolating, we are not actually alone. As the shadows of grief past still follow me, as I’m sure they may follow you, this book allowed me to sit in my grief but also let a piece of it go. Hayes’ writing is just so poetic, so lyrical, this is not one you want to miss.
Scarf Rating:
This novel will stay with me for a long time, especially as life goes on, people leave, things change, I feel as if I will return to Hayes’ story as a reminder that so many of us deal with grief daily, while isolating, we are not actually alone. As the shadows of grief past still follow me, as I’m sure they may follow you, this book allowed me to sit in my grief but also let a piece of it go. Hayes’ writing is just so poetic, so lyrical, this is not one you want to miss.
Scarf Rating:
Ok Hazel Hayes we get it- you know grief & heartbreak!
Geeeeeez this one - so layered & just ugh I have all the feels right now
Geeeeeez this one - so layered & just ugh I have all the feels right now
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
This book was very good. It made you think it was about grief and sadness from a breakup, but the FMC learns a lot about her self in the process, dealing with grief from losing a parent.