A soft and comforting story of a mother and daughter connecting despite the great distance between them. This packed such a strong punch for such a quick read - absolutely delightful and sweet.

Haunting, Intense, and Beautiful
I read this novella in one day and enjoyed it. The first part is from the point of view of a young woman who left her home in Brazil to attend college in Vermont, leaving home for the first time.

This book is about the relationship between the daughter and the mother—and the daughter’s experience in college and her world, which is expanding. The mother’s world is not expanding; it seems to be contracting, folding in on itself by the weight of loneliness.

The writing is sparse and beautiful—and truly reflects the lives of the characters. The daughter’s room is sparse, because she doesn’t have money to buy things the way others in her cohort do. And it reflects the sparseness of the mother’s life without her daughter.

The mother keeps holding onto the daughter in ways that seemed unhealthy to me. I kept screaming, sometimes out loud, “Just let her live her life at college; let her blossom!” But I say this as someone whose US born parents allowed me to do that. And that was my approach when my son when to college and grad school. But that is likely an opinion that is based on privileged and a US lived experience.

Notice the lights—the blue lights—at key points.

I enjoyed this book and am glad I read it, thanks to NetGalley. I reviewed it on my TikTok channel, @katemcreader.

A tender exploration of distance and connection

BLUE LIGHT HOURS by BRUNA DANTAS LOBATO

Rating: 3.75⭐️
Genre: literary fiction

This is a quietly powerful novel about the invisible threads that bind a mother and daughter across continents, time zones, and life changes. Set between a snowy Vermont college campus and a small apartment in northeastern Brazil, the story unfolds through late-night Skype calls, where small talk becomes a lifeline and ordinary moments take on deep emotional weight.

Bruna Dantas Lobato writes with restraint and lyricism, capturing the quiet isolation of immigrant life and the aching intimacy of long-distance love. The daughter is adjusting to her new world, writing essays in English, navigating campus life, and slowly growing away from home, while the mother grapples with illness, fear, and the heartbreak of possible abandonment. Their conversations, though often mundane, shimmer with emotion and unspoken meaning.

The novel's strength lies in its subtlety. There's little plot, but plenty of feeling, and Lobato's ability to render deep emotional truths in simple exchanges is impressive. That said, the pacing can feel overly gentle, and the narrative occasionally lingers too long in repetition. Readers who prefer strong plotlines may find it slow, but those drawn to character-driven stories about identity, migration, and maternal bonds will appreciate its depth.

Thank you kindly to the publisher, NetGalley and the author for this advanced readers copy!

This was a lovely and heartwarming book about a mother-daughter bond that transcends place. I really enjoyed this and would definitely recommend!
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC (and apologies for taking so long to read it)!

Blue Light Hours is a quiet gut-punch of a novel, steeped in nostalgia, digital decay, and the particular ache of growing up online. Bruno Dantas Lobato has written something that feels eerily familiar if you came of age staring into a screen—especially if that screen was a portal, a mirror, and sometimes a trap.

This isn’t a plot-heavy book. It’s fragmentary, diaristic, often disorienting—but intentionally so. We follow a narrator circling grief, alienation, queerness, and memory in the glow of late-night scrolling. The prose reads like someone whispering their life to you through a cracked iPhone at 3 a.m.—vulnerable, glitchy, strangely intimate. It’s autofiction-adjacent, but it resists easy categories. Is it a novel? A log? A dream archive? Yes.

Lobato captures the weird unreality of digital life—the way your body can feel both hyper-visible and ghosted in the same breath. The “blue light” isn’t just a screen glow; it’s a mood, a presence, a weight. There’s something deeply queer about the way time works here: nonlinear, haunted by what could’ve been said, what was edited out, what was never saved. Grief becomes browser history.

It’s not going to be for everyone. Some people will call it too abstract, too millennial. But for those of us shaped by the early internet, by diaspora, by the desire to be known and the terror of actually being seen? This book hits like a secret memory.

If you like Ocean Vuong’s quieter prose, or the soft melancholy of Tavi Gevinson-era Rookie, Blue Light Hours belongs on your shelf—or maybe just on your nightstand, glowing faintly beside you, waiting to be opened again.

Call your mother, guys! If you’ve ever missed someone across time zones, or tried to hold onto a relationship through a screen, this book will find your soft spots. It’s a quiet cry—the kind that sneaks up on you in the middle of a sentence. Want a few more books that hit with that same emotional precision?, aching truths that hit deep. It’s the kind of book that makes you cry not because something tragic happens, but because it captures the emotional texture of distance, longing, and love so precisely it feels like your own memories.

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Press, Black Cat for the arc.

Blue Light Hours was a super interesting read. I loved the character study and the writing was beautiful. I'd read more from the author.

Blue Light Hours are the conversations through Skype of a mother and daughter when the latter moves to America from Brazil to attend college. Talking almost every night, they recount their days living their new lives, the daughter on a new country learning a new language and the mother living alone for the first time in her life. I found the story to be very mellow and cozy, there weren't any major plot twists, just a nice character driven novel about the evolution of their relationship with a four thousand mile distance.

Blue Light Hours is a beautifully introspective novel that lingers in the emotional spaces between people—between countries, between family members, and between selves shaped by both physical and digital landscapes. Bruna Dantas Lobato writes with clarity and grace, gently unpacking the ways technology can both collapse and expand the space between us.

What moved me most was the sense of quiet longing woven throughout the story. The characters felt suspended in a liminal space—not quite here, not quite there—and that tension was handled with nuance and care. Lobato doesn’t offer easy answers, but instead invites reflection on how we relate to each other across time zones, cultures, and screens.

This book will resonate with readers drawn to themes of displacement, belonging, and the strange intimacy of digital connection. It’s a tender, thought-provoking read I’ll be sitting with for a while.

Blue Light Hours follows a mother in Brazil and her daughter in the U.S. as they connect over Skype, sharing moments of distance, longing, and quiet change. It captures the isolation of living apart and the love that holds them together. For some, the minimal style may feel gentle and relatable, offering quiet reflection on family and transition. For others, the stripped-back writing and lack of emotional depth might leave it feeling flat or distant. A quick, tender read for those who enjoy quiet, atmospheric stories, but it won’t be for everyone.

While Blue Light Hours was not what I expected, I still enjoyed it. It explores the life of a young girl who is far away from home and her mother for the first time. Seeing how each of their lives changes in subtle ways the other does not notice gives a real insight into how easy it is to get lost in your own life. It was sweet to see how mother and daughter longed for each other in simple and practical ways. Overall, it was a sweet story that could only be told of a mother and daughter.

Beautiful, spare, extremely moving novel about the relationship between a mother and a daughter when the daughter moves far away for college. Bring your tissues! I loved the novel and I look forward to reading more books by the author.

I really loved this one! The mother/daughter relationship felt very real to me and I was rooting for our main characters. The writing style felt a bit detached for my taste, but that's a personal preference :)

So relatable and beautifully written. I appreciated seeing that distance - across screens, across geographies, across family - rendered on the page, as someone also trying to bridge the gap within my family. Thank you for the arc.

With thanks to the Author, Net Galley and Grove Atlantic for the opportunity to read and review this eARC.

A story of mother and daughter.
A daughter trying to find her own way in the world, to find her feet and find her independence. A mother, connected to the daughter (Vermont) by the light of a laptop screen, from her home (Brazil).

Tenderly written, the connection between the two is at times loving, frustrated, hopeful and lonely. They discuss the every day, attempting to reconcile the distance between them and that life is now very different to what it was once. Looking for a rhythm that is no longer there, finding new ways of connecting and staying in touch.

The author weaves the blue light throughout the novel, coming back to it in small glimpses. Not only do we have the blue light of the screens, but also in other moments as the daughter navigates her life and quiet existence in and around college.

Do now wait around thinking that there will be some sort of monumental plot point or climax, this is a story about a daughter and her mother.
They are the story.
Their togetherness, their separation.
Their growth.
It is a story of simplicity and depth at the same time.

Bruna Dantas Lobato’s Blue Light Hours is a tender and atmospheric meditation on distance, belonging, and the evolving bond between a mother and daughter physically separated. Through Skype calls between a young Brazilian woman studying in Vermont and her mother back home, the novel captures the quiet but profound rhythms of their relationship—marked by longing, small intimacies, and the growing realization that time and space reshape love in unexpected ways. With elegant prose reminiscent of Sigrid Nunez and Katie Kitamura, Lobato crafts a poignant debut that picked my attention into reading a future next book of hers.

A story for mothers and daughters. A story for international students, who will never share a home with their parents again. Oh how this makes me want to hug my mom endlessly.

Thanks to Netgalley for the Arc.

I happened to join the reading party really late. Should have read it right after I got my hands on it. Anyways, I am glad I picked it regardless.

This book is a tight hug for those who miss your moms. As we grow old, we tend to distance ourselves from our parents just because our likes and dislikes aren't the same anymore. We have different lives to lead and we don't often see our parents as friends or someone who would understand your life choices. This book is a gentle reminder to give your relationship a chance. Talk to them, listen to them. They might just turn out to be the best friend you never knew you needed.

#BlueLightHours #NetGalley

Unfortunately really struggled to get into this one after thinking it was so promising! I think the writer is very talented the story just fell flat for me personally.

So moving and beautifully written. It was a slow read at first but I am so glad I stuck with it. The gorgeous title made me want to pick it up. The narrative switch was interesting and well-executed.