“The common stories are one plus one equals two. We get it, they make sense. But the good stories are one plus one equals three.” —Ken Burns
My last read has me thinking well past the final page. On a day like today, when jet lag has had his wakeful grip on me, thinking about things is proof of life. This may be the exhaustion talking, but I’m ultimately grateful that curiosity sometimes kills this old lady cat. Blessed curiosity interrupts the stress cycle—it takes you out of anxiety into joy. And for the rest of 2026, I’m choosing joy.
I’ll elaborate more on being a joy-finder later. For now, let’s talk about Yesteryear, the book that has me reflecting casually or otherwise. This contemporary fiction meets social satire plus psychological thriller has brought with it one ton of buzz. (Anne Hathaway will be bringing protagonist Natalie Heller Mills to life on the big screen.) Is it buzz-worthy? Absolutely. Props to Caro Claire Burke for providing us with such an inventive debut novel. Her satirical and timely concept—which she acknowledges was inspired by influencers like Hannah Neeleman (the parallels are as big as the broad side of a barn)—revolves around a tradwife who falsely curates homesteading for social media. When the algorithm-obsessed influencer wakes up on the farm in 1865, she finds herself isolated in a demanding day without end. Burke’s wild premise and relevant commentary alone bring in da noise, bring in da buzz.
Buzz alone is not enough to pass the reading litmus test. What is the litmus test, you ask? If it’s not worth re-reading, it’s not worth reading. Burke’s story did not breathe for me. It fell flat, in part, because to my curious mind, Natalie felt like a wooden character. I recognize, by design, she’s meant to be artificial and alienating. I can deal with an unlikeable and unreliable narrator. But in Burke’s effort to create a deliberate caricature of the modern trad wife, she needed to better understand their culture. Developing a satire of a culture you don’t really understand is risky business. You risk reinforcing harmful stereotypes. And sometimes you miss the mark. (I did think her deep dive into contemporary internet culture was fascinating.) This isn’t a “common” story in the trad sense of the word; however, it is one plus one equals two.
P.S. I’ve run out of space and time. I’ll have to talk about choosing joy in another post. I will say joy-finding is a whole lot easier when I’m offline. It makes training your attention much easier, that’s for sure. Can I get an amen, Mary Oliver?
