Reardon’s novel vividly depicts coping with mental illness.

Amelia Glickman can’t function without weed and alcohol and random hookups. And she can’t blame an abusive or even a chilly childhood. Her upper middle class parents’ divorce was traumatic, but they both love her fiercely and support her regardless. And they are even finding new and admirable partners. After Amelia, a longtime equestrian, puts her horse, Hope, at risk by jumping her while stoned, she breaks down and agrees to a “grippy-sock vacay,” a stint in rehab. Thus begins the lead’s long, hard trek to recovery, which will be the arc of the book. This means a series of dreary church basement meetings of fellow sufferers. But some of the sufferers become her fast friends and the little house with the red door on Wethersfield Road in Austin becomes an almost magical shelter and retreat. Of course, the journey has plenty of setbacks, stoking dramatic tension, often because of real jerks, guys who exploit her desperate need for love, or what passes for it. But through it all, at least she guards her sobriety and she lucks onto good people, like the wise Ethan who becomes her housemate (the key is to find people who have gone through the fire). She has a deep connection to her horse and to her dog, Delilah—no surprise that animals are more trustworthy and giving than so many humans. And she also has an eating disorder—bingeing and purging—which she managed to keep secret…until she can’t. One theme here is Amelia’s learning to accept her body.

A former mental health therapist, Reardon infuses the book with a passion for recovery and appreciation of life. Her background brings bona fides to an expansive, engrossing novel that might have been based on well-meaning guesswork and assumptions. Amelia’s recovery is slow and often painful, especially after tangling with Jerk #1 and then Jerk #2. Were it not for Ethan, she would be justified in swearing off men entirely. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen. (She does discover, however, thanks to an encounter with Cat, her old high school rival, that she’s bisexual.) Reardon, a skilled writer, has made Amelia a witty guide through the drama and pain. From feeling when we first meet her like “a scream looking for a mouth,” Amelia fights through all her formidable demons, many of which had been incubated very early on—no surprise as these things go—to being so confident that she can go to grad school and become a mental health therapist herself. A recurring scene, and theme, is the annual New Year’s Eve party on Wethersfield Road to celebrate the good lives earned, a riotous affair even though all the revelers are cold sober. Amelia is a frustrating character until she eventually becomes a celebrant of the good life, inviting us to share it, at which point she becomes all but irresistible. Toward the very end of the novel, there is a coy surprise waiting for the reader, one that explains much.

An involving, well-written debut.