NO ONE YOU KNOW

In Tourtelot’s novel, when a teenager’s grief over her best friend’s sudden death collides with her mother’s curated online persona, a family begins to unravel.

Told through the dual perspectives of Indie, a sharp and wounded teenager, and her mother, Kate, a real estate agent and lifestyle blogger, this novel explores themes of loss, belief, and the shifting ground of identity. The story opens with Kate driving frantically along the Taconic State Parkway, fearing for her missing daughter, Indie. From there, the narrative rewinds to the months following the sudden death of Indie’s best friend, Maddy, a loss that shatters Indie’s sense of safety and belonging. Indie’s grief takes the form of withdrawal and obsessive searching—into conspiracy theories, online gurus, and altered states of consciousness—as she struggles to make sense of life after Maddy. Meanwhile, Kate tries to hold her family together. She writes curated, witty posts for her online column (“And that’s how the sausage is made, folks”), projecting control and confidence to her readers while privately unraveling. Her marriage to Ethan deteriorates under the weight of unspoken resentments, while her connection to Indie falters as she fails to bridge the gap between her daughter’s anguish and her own pragmatism. As Indie flirts with dangerous influences online and in person, Kate confronts her own illusions about family, community, and marriage. By weaving together the mother’s and daughter’s perspectives, Tourtelot captures both the rawness of grief and the barriers to communication across generations. The author excels at rendering the textures of small-town life, the absurdities of online performance, and the interior chaos of grief. The dual points of view and inclusion of blog posts, text messages, and other forms of media add richness to the text. Indie’s chapters feel raw and vulnerable, much like her teenage self; Kate’s chapters can at times feel overly polished, but this reflects the online persona that she has carefully manufactured. The pacing occasionally meanders when Indie’s philosophical digressions risk growing repetitive, but the short chapters generally keep the action moving.

An emotionally honest and captivating story about grief, family, and the stories we tell in this digital age.