Oprah was irked. She’d selected Ann Packer’s latest novel, Some Bright Nowhere (Harper/HarperCollins, 2025), for her book club last fall, but, as she explained on an episode of The Oprah Podcast, she was choosing the book “even though I’m very annoyed with Claire and was annoyed with Claire through half of the book.” Not one of Oprah’s more enthusiastic endorsements.
Claire is the provocative character at the center of Some Bright Nowhere—a woman in the last stages of cancer who abruptly decides she wants her two best female friends at her side as she dies, rather than her loving husband of several decades. Thus Eliot is exiled from the house and relegated to daily visits, while Holly and Michelle move in to care for her. Oprah certainly wasn’t the only reader who found Claire’s decision challenging, but few would deny that our close friends can provide a unique and profound solace in times of hardship. And let’s face it: Friendships frequently outlast marriages.
Romance and romantasy may reign on the bestseller lists, but you don’t have to look far in contemporary fiction to find that friendship—in all its complexity—is the most resonant subject of our times. It may have started with the intense girlhood connection of Elena and Lina in Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Novels or the trauma bonding of the four young men in A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. (“Jude & JB & Willem & Malcolm” even found their way onto a popular tote bag and T-shirt.) Whatever the origin of the trend, a character’s friends no longer take a back seat to husbands, wives, children, or parents. Friends, as they do for Claire, often come first.
One of my favorite novels of 2026 so far, Gabriel Tallent’s Crux (Riverhead, Jan. 20), takes friendship to new heights, both metaphorical and literal. Dan and Tamma are high school seniors in a small Mojave Desert town, looking to escape their dysfunctional families and narrow existences while finding communion—and hope—in their shared love of rock climbing. They’ve taught themselves this dangerous sport by watching YouTube videos, and they don’t have the proper equipment, but they dream of “sending” ever more challenging natural courses. Male-female friendship is often treated as a prologue to romantic fireworks, but these two are soulmates in the truest sense. I loved following their journey and found myself as invested in them as by any pair of star-crossed lovers.
Which brings us to Tayari Jones, who appears on the cover of our latest issue and talks with contributor Jessica Jernigan. The title of Jones’ absorbing new novel, Kin (Knopf, Feb. 24), hints at the almost mystical bond that can link two friends. Vernice and Annie, young Black girls growing up in Jim Crow–era Louisiana, are not biological family—but then, biology is beside the point. Annie’s mother has run off to Memphis, abandoning her to the care of her grandmother, while Vernice’s mama was killed by her daddy, a tragedy that leaves her Aunt Irene to raise her. These two motherless girls pursue two very different paths in life, but the imprint of their childhood experiences—and the mutual understanding it yields—is lifelong. Friends are forever.
Tom Beer is the editor-in-chief.
