I love books about mother/daughter relationship and Wayward while parts were great, I didn't totally love it.

While I resonated with the MC who is perimenopausal and devastated by the 2016 election, this is also about a white woman with privilege, so it felt very "white tears" to me.

It also felt like it was trying to speak about too many social issues that weren't exactly necessary.

This wasn't what I expected, but intriguing all the same. I'm in my 30s, not my 50s, but the book feels like an accurate portrayal of what it's like to be a woman in her 50s.

Wayward is a moving, engrossing and sometimes surprising novel about how life changes and we want different lives, how marriages become stale and suffocating, how children separate into adults and leave us for their own lives, and how all this changes who we are. This book will resonate with older women and with young women moving into adulthood and make them reflect on their relationships.

I really liked the concept of WAYWARD, which follows Sam, a middle aged woman, who begins to question everything in her life as she decides to buy a broken down house and leave her husband. Throughout the book Sam seems to struggle with the relationships in her life and her inner conflict to take more of a stand against societal injustices.

I enjoyed the conflict between Sam and her daughter Ally, and how their relationship evolved throughout the book. You also got a glimpse of Sam’s relationship with her own mother and how certain events make her question her own mortality and sense of obligation to make an impact.

The examination of Sam’s life and the social commentaries were interesting and easy to connect with at certain times. There were parts that fell flat for me and felt forced with the characters. This story was meant to take place immediately following the 2016 election and I thought it was spot on with some parts but could have gone deeper with others. There were also a few storylines that I’m still a bit confused about and may have detracted from the overall book for me.

This was a quick read and will certainly resonate with anyone who has questioned the trajectory of their or their purpose.

Did not connect with the actual content. Not my usual book genre I guess but based on other reviews, I’m not alone.

A very interesting take on menopause and midlife crisis! I really like how the central character, Sam, is a middle aged woman seeking to understand the world around her and build a different life for herself. As she confronts the changes in her life and builds a new life for herself in Syracuse, we are taken along an insightful, witty journey of self-discovery!

I eagerly tried to engage with this middle-aged woman, but I could not. I could not reconcile her extreme decision to buy a house on a whim. It was so unbelievable; I expected the rest of the story to have equally unbelievable actions of a woman unhinged. But she just seemed bland.

As someone from Upstate New York, I did enjoy the accurate descriptions of Syracuse. Some of the background and history would give others unfamiliar with this region an overview.

First of all, if you are a Trump supporter this book is not for you. The author writes from a place where there is no compassion or understanding for the Trump electorate. It is what it is, leave it or take it. Depending on which side you are on, her writing can seem very witty or full of bull****.

I read many reviews that find this book tedious, pointless and with an unlikeable character who doesn't get redemption. I, on the other side, found this book extremely enjoyable and with real things to say. The character has an arc and this arc is more or less this one: a privileged woman on the brink of menopause who, until this point in her life, is entirely defined by motherhood, starts to look at the world around her and becomes less selfish/self-involved. She understands that her role in this world cannot only to be a mother, that her love for her only child, now the she has blossomed in a capable young woman, can be directed towards the outer world (in this case the inhabitants of Syracuse inner-city). I understand that in the big scheme of things this might still be seen as first world problems but I found it a very fresh take on the middle age crisis trope, especially from a women perspective (I find that more often than not male characters tend to get a pass when they go through a middle age crisis and we find their motivations understandable and almost endearing, while women are immediately labeled as crazy bitches, when they actually have more reasons than men, that hormones tempest called menopause, to act the way they act.

I think this book describes perfectly the predicaments that many women go through when they reach menopause by framing it in a larger political/social contest. I think Ms. Spiotta achieved something truly remarkable here and every woman around 50 should read it.
I am taking a star off because of the 2 chapters towards the end (especially the one that lists the objects in the cabinet of curiosities that the MC curates in the museum where she works) that interrupt the novel's flow and take out a bit of the climax at the end.

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me with a free copy in exchange of my honest review.

I ate this book up. finished it in a single day. Spiotta’s writing is addicting and urgent, and as a woman in her late 20s, occupying that space between mother and daughterhood, I found this story so truthful and resonant. I did spend 1.5 years at syracuse as an undergrad, so of course I was also immediately drawn to that piece of the book.

I found this to be a thought-provoking book with a main character that inspired some complicated emotions and reactions. Sam (who thinks of herself as elderly at the age of 53, lol), abruptly purchases a fixer-upper historic home in a rundown neighborhood in Syracuse. Without warning, she leaves her husband and her high school aged daughter and begins to make a new life for herself, without completely leaving her old life behind. Lots of good things going on in this book -- the exploration of women aging and our aging bodies, our relationships with our mothers and daughters, classism, racism, and the changes we go through as we navigate life. A few of the issues in this book remain unresolved, or are not as fully explored as they deserve to be, but all in all, this is a relatable, engaging story that I look forward to recommending.

Thought provoking and realistic, I enjoyed this book about life choices, changes, and family. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC to read and review.
*3 1/2 stars

I kept hearing about this book, so was excited to read ARC

I know Syracuse, NY ...*inspiration for Emerald City in Wizard of Oz*
the descriptions had me back there.
A wife, a mother, woman wakes up and makes a big decision
creating a new version of her life in 1 day. A woman who hits 50, still has decades to go,
culture loses interest in her. She can make herself feel more alive, more herself,
maybe louder and sassier.

Sometimes we need to go in a new direction
to find our way back home, back to us.

I could not finish this book. I tried. I kept going back hoping to care at all about any of the characters but…nope. The synopsis sounded so good too.

It was the first midlife/menopause novel I've come across. I hope there will be more novels about women of a certain age that match Wayward's complexity, depth, and sheer beauty. I absolutely loved the humor, the wit, and the empathy that showed all of the characters as flawed, imperfect, and thus ordinary people who try their best.

This book is adorable. It's basically about a middle age woman named Sam, that makes the decision to buy a rundown, charming craftsman house to remodel and leave her husband after a long unsatisfying marriage. Her daughter wants to stay with her dad at the suburban family home, so our protagonist finds herself living alone for the first time in decades. She is facing her climacteric symptoms (and demons) while trying to fin her old self and to reconnect with her passions and interests. Unhappy with the social, cultural and political current affairs (the storyline takes place around the 2016 election) she becomes aware of the hypocrisy that surrounds her former life. By trying to make a change she meets a group of engaged women and begins her self-fulfillment journey.
The book is a meditation, a critic, a love letter, a raw manifesto. Dana Spiotta's writing is honest and beautiful. The characters, dialogues and situations are credible and amusing. Her precocious daughter Ally, (some of the chapters are written from her point of view) is in her own self discovery journey. Sam is trying to make sense of the new dynamic regarding their relationship and of what life will look like without her own mother that is terminally ill. The relationship between the three generations is so endearing and heartfelt.
What prevents me from giving this book five stars is that I felt the ending a little abrupt or precipitated. Maybe it's just because I didn't want it to finish at all. Overall was an extremely pleasant
and enriching reading experience.

This is an interesting book because of the way it depicts a female mid-life crisis. The main character is smart and observant, but totally confused about what she wants to do with her life. She's a very frustrating character because her sense of feeling adrift has such negative consequences for her family, especially her high school-aged daughter.

That could make for a very interesting, character-driven novel, but instead it's a mess. The last third feels loses focus entirely and then just kind of ends. As a reader, I have no idea what I'm supposed to take away from the story. What do we make of her social activism, for example, which is so misplaced? - i.e., following these poser women who are just toxic? Her witnessing of and then speaking out against police violence? Is that supposed to redeem her for her other destructive actions?

The highlight of this novel is the daughter. She is smart, funny, and observant. I would have loved it if the entire novel was told from her perspective.

In Wayward, the protagonist’s sixteen-year-old daughter, Ally, is an amateur etymologist who seeks to understand life through the historical derivation and meaning of words. If she was searching, she’d discover that one dictionary defines ‘wayward’ as difficult to control or predict because of unusual or perverse behavior, while another dictionary states that ‘wayward’ means doing only what you want and often changing your behavior in a way that is difficult to control or, similarly, following one's own capricious, wanton, or depraved inclinations.

These related definitions of ‘wayward’ also define the various women encountered, Ally included, in Dana Spiotta’s newest novel, Wayward. Ally’s grandma, Lily, is nearing the end of her life, but resolutely, on her own terms. Ally’s mom, Sam, wrestles with the changes brought on by mid-life angst, and strives to meet the challenges encountered according to her own inner inclinations, not by following polite societal norms. Teenage Ally is precariously embarking on womanhood even as her parents separate, initially certain that all paths forward that do not include her mother are the right choices. Even Clara Loomis, the author’s mostly fictional nineteenth century suffragette, runs away from home at age seventeen and joins a free-love, equality for all commune.

If only this novel focused more on these women and their struggles, and less on the author’s opinionated mini-rants about everything from body-building to modern home design trends. It often feels like there is a fifth woman in this novel, the author herself, sitting directly beside each character and filling what should be their personal space with discourses about mid-life crises, the sexuality of teenagers, the architecture of Syracuse, and other assorted topics.

The story itself revolves around Sam, fiftyish and going through ‘the change’. Sam is on a journey to discover her true self as she shakes off fertility, husband, family, employment, and various other middle-class trappings. When Sam falls in love with an early twentieth century Arts and Crafts style house designed by the nonfictional, noted architect Ward Wellington Ward, she simultaneously realizes that she is no longer in love with her husband. She buys the house and moves in, abandoning her spouse and child.

Sam would be a more compelling character if the author had only let her alone. But instead, Sam, and to a lesser extent her daughter Ally and other more peripheral characters, are often used as mouthpieces for small lectures on such diverse topics as the shallow, myopic shortcomings of middle aged bourgeoise women, the short-comings of libertarianism, and the selfishness of enrolling children in prestigious colleges. While Sam and Ally gain some self-awareness and wisdom by the end of the novel, it’s clouded over by a litany of what feel suspiciously like authorial pet-peeves the reader has to wade through before reaching the conclusion.

Sam mourns not living with her daughter, but doesn’t waste much time trying to decipher what went wrong with the marriage. Husband Matt is barely heard from, and when he is, it’s often in the form of generously providing Sam with whatever she needs at the moment to get her over her next hurdle. Sam’s perversity and three a.m. soul searching doesn’t stop her from accepting these spousal demonstrations of kindness and caring even as she informs him that she doesn’t need him, want him, and will not listen to any advice proffered. By the end of the novel, a reader could be left wondering if the marital problem is not so much sympathetic hubby as the wayward Sam herself.

Ms. Spiotta, a gifted author and a creative writing instructor at Syracuse University, has published several well-received novels many of which were short-listed for, or the recipient of, various prestigious literature prizes. In Wayward, her literary prowess is sometimes on display. Both the teen and middle-age points of view on display are often spot-on: Ally complains that everything parents tell you once you’re thirteen is a lie; Sam misses the intimacy she and Ally once shared, “comforting her daughter while she could still be comforted, before she grew up and they both become, well uncomfortable.”

Wayward can also be read as a love-letter to the city of Syracuse. Whether it’s the detailed descriptions of early morning March snow, with its pink and gold glimmering promise of spring, the detailed relating of the town’s historical importance to both the abolitionist and suffragist movements, or the depictions of the non-fictional original Arts & Crafts homes and buildings scattered throughout the area, many now falling into disrepair, the author’s love for this town is evident.

But it’s not enough. Syracuse may be lovely, and the intertwined lives of the women may be interesting and even thought-provoking, but, ultimately, Wayward gets in its own way. More attention to the nuances of the characters inhabiting the novel, and less diversionary pontifications, would have been welcomed.

As a woman in her 50s, who has lived her whole life in Central NY, this book hit the target right in the bull's eye! It is 2017, and Sam is spinning out of control, possibly due to the 2016 presidential election. She impulsively buys a house in inner-city Syracuse, and leaves her husband and daughter in their upper-class, white, suburban neighborhood. Sam's husband is surprisingly sympathetic and supportive; her daughter reacts the opposite way. Sam is dealing with trying to find her authentic self, tries on friendships like jeans in TJMaxx, and is fearful of her mother's impending death. She witnesses a police shooting in her neighborhood, and feels powerless to act as any agent of change due to her gender, race, and age. This fabulous novel resonates long after the last page.

Spiotta's novel takes place when Hillary loses the election and our main character appears to have a midlife crisis during menopause (sorry this sounds so cliche, but not sure where else to go on this one). I can imagine some friends enjoying this novel a great deal, friends who are still obsessed about the effects of trump and how that is destroying our country today, and who are not thrilled with their marriages and men in general, but those are the elements I found most fatiguing because they are not that unique.

The novel begins with Sam surprising her husband and daughter by buying an old house for cheap and announcing that she's moving out. Her daughter is a junior in high school, and for whatever reasons, we never learn those reasons, she assumed her daughter would move out with her (though she only buys a single bed for herself). That doesn't happen but her doting husband, who more or less never gets a role in this novel except for handing her money and being a secretive sex buddy, carries on with being the parent while Sam meeting new political friends, and Ray, the father, more or less letting his daughter do as she pleases, which means her secretive affair with a colleague of her father who is 27 and worried he'll get arrested for statuary rape, which doesn't really stop him from ending the affair. No, the daughter, Ally, reads Ayn Rand, then realizes her developer lover is not someone she respects, yet, she carries on with him because she enjoys meeting them in hotels.

The novel shifts perspectives between Sam and Ally, and both adore the grandmother, and I rather wish she played a larger role. Neither have much to say about Ray. The mother is off trying to become woke. This White woman is suffering from insomnia and watches a White cop kill a Black teen, and she tries to become the hero of the situation by attending a rally and telling those what she observed, but nothing really comes from this murder. It doesn't change Sam. It doesn't change the police. It doesn't change racism. The novel just moves on to another mundane situation, until the mother sees her daughter with their family "friend" at a fair, and she simply leaves, not racing after her daughter in a rage, as the daughter expects, and she has a concussion at home, and the daughter finally visits her at the house, and the novel ends rather abruptly. I

Sadly, this book did not resonate with our reviewer. The good news is that because on BookBrowse we only feature books that we can wholeheartedly recommend, our review will stay tucked away in the book's page:

In reading Wayward it feels as if one is reading a literary essay woven through a loose plot. Although well-written enough, it falls behind because of its unengaging storyline and the not-so-new theme of female middle-age-hood."

Tasneem Pocketwala