I found this difficult to read, plodding and clunky. I appreciated the idea, but the execution didn't work for me. I understand the intent in using Jenny as a mirror for the reader, but she comes across as completely lacking in self-awareness, juvenile in her thoughts and actions, and the story takes too long to move into the disappearance of Rachelle.

Missing and Murdered

The ongoing disappearance and murder of Indigenous women and girls in Canada and the United States, often described as a genocide, has persisted for decades. These cases frequently receive little to no attention or investigation. In “Fireweed” Lauren Hadden is looking to shine a light on this atrocity.

Living in Prince George, Canada, Jenny Hayes, who identifies as "white trash," harbors disdain for most everyone, including her demanding mother, privileged social circle, and even her husband. She does develop a strong curiosity about her neighbor Rachelle, an Indigenous widow with two young children whose late husband was white. Despite Jenny's crude, stereotype-laden perspective, shaped by her family and social circle's prejudiced views of Indigenous people as “uncivilized” and “savages,” Rachelle becomes a subject of intense fascination for her, observed from her backyard. Jenny is an incredibly nosy neighbor, constantly snooping, peeking, and keeping tabs on everything Rachelle does.

A twenty-four-year-old blonde, blue-eyed white girl, Beth Tremblay has disappeared, and it is the lead story on every station. Her picture is posted everywhere, there are bumper stickers, there is a reward out, and the whole community is galvanized. This just did not happen to girls like her.

One day Rachelle disappears– she fails to pick up her girls from the day care center. Jenny is the only one who seems to take notice. She investigates, tries to make the Mounties take this seriously, but the report is not even written up. A friend suggests Rachelle is just a casualty suffered by the prostitutes who work highway 16, the so-called “Highway of Tears.”

Our “White Savior,” Jenny may seem to be good-intentioned, but she just wears us out. She is loaded up with prejudices, she is borderline obsessive with Rachelle, and she makes a series of baffling decisions that leaves you scratching your head. There is a puzzling passage where she second-guesses her ancestry as an explanation for her connection with Rachelle, “...as if other hands were at the wheel.” Her husband, no prize human being, makes a comment to her that she should not ever forgive– and she lets that pass. Ultimately, the narrative lacks compelling characters to connect with.

It seems crucial that such a significant story be narrated by Native voices. We never see Rachelle, we see a caricature through Jenny’s eyes. There are inherent limitations to the perspective of a naive white woman who makes the story about herself.

The National Week of Action for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls runs each year from May 5 to May 9.

Thank you to Astra Publishing House and NetGalley for providing an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review.

I picked up Fireweed thinking this would be a story about seeking justice for Indigenous women. It is not. This is a white savior story about a bored housewife who just needs a baby to make her life meaningful. It's offensive in many ways. Rachelle is an Indigenous woman who goes missing, yes, but this story is about Jenny, her family, her trashy friends, and not a single person cares what happens to Rachelle. That storyline in fact drops off entirely after Jenny panics that maybe she is secretly half Indigenous herself! The horror! The social suicide! Would her husband even still love her?!
I'm extremely disappointed in this novel in both plot and writing. It is vaguely lewd (sometimes not so vaguely). There are also multiple descriptions of sexual assault. I do not recommend this one.
Thanks to NetGalley and Astra Publishing for this ARC.

Thank you to NetGalley and Astra Publishing House for this e-arc in exchange for my honest opinion!

Fireweed sets up with an incredibly important premise: white suburban housewife, Jenny, begins investigating the disappearance of her Indigenous neighbor, Rachelle, when it fails to gain any real attention from the public or authorities. The novel positions itself as an exploration of missing and murdered Indigenous women which is an urgent, heartbreaking crisis that is still ongoing today. Unfortunately, I don't believe the story truly met these important plot points and fell flat.

Rather than focusing on the injustice and the systems that allow Indigenous women to disappear without consequence, the narrative became centered almost entirely around Jenny's personal experience with her neighbor. The story felt less like a search for the truth and more like a drawn out character study of a white woman slowly realizing her own prejudice. While this self reflection can be valuable in some contexts, it felt misaligned here and veered too far into white savior territory for me. I wanted a book that centered Indigenous voices, experiences, and resilience, not just one that used those experiences to facilitate the growth of a white protagonist.

In the end, I had to DNF Fireweed at 60% because it didn’t feel like the right vessel for the story it seemed to want to tell.

I initially thought Jenny’s life was a mess, and that she allowed so many people around her, like Fi, her mother, to manipulate her emotions. After a while I started to wonder if Jenny was just bored, a bit of a coward and lacked any self confidence in her hollow life. Her boredom was slightly lessened when Jenny became invested in the disappearance of Beth Tremblay, and her neighbour Rachelle along Highway 16. Beth is a white woman plastered all over the media. Rachelle's disappearance is swept under the carpet.

This novel was hard to categorise. Jenny's detective stills were left wanting, possibly because I was never sure if her motives and because she was either ignorant or uneducated. It does give rise to several themes such as racism, class and social status, gender roles and stereotypes and the social impact of living in a remote community. And I wondered if part of the writing of this book was to highlight how small indigenous and First Nations perspectives are marginalised both in literature, and at the forefront of campaigns to protect women.

This just was not the right book for me. I am a sister and an aunt to indigenous people. I am aware of the issues the author tries to illustrate in her book. I just felt like our MC was disconnected from the issue and this was a journey for her and not really a book about making changes and why. I hope that makes sense. We need to keep our focus on the missing women and girls, and yeah the boys too.

I am glad the author is learning about the issues. I am proud of her. I just did not feel the book.

This book was hard to get through, very white savior and white woman centric, and obsessed with the message it thought it was sending. I did not like it :/ It's 2001 and Jenny lives in Prince George in British Columbia, with a husband who is gone working at the mines often. A white woman goes missing in their community and everyone looks for her, but when Jenny notices her indigenous neighbor Rachelle has also gone missing, she tries to raise the alarm, but no one seems to care. Jenny then takes it upon herself to investigate Rachelle's disappearance, and then we get an extremely self-centered, racist search that has nothing to do with Rachelle herself and everything to do with Jenny finding her purpose or whatever.

The author of this book has stated that she wanted to write a novel critiquing the way white people insert themselves into marginalized communities, fetishize tragedies perpetuated by racism, and attempt to help marginalized communities mostly to assuage their own white guilt. I appreciate that sentiment, but unfortunately, the author has just recreated that racist dynamic in this book. Jenny is not the most likable character, and there are nods throughout the book to the fact that she is doing more harm than good and has no idea what's going on, but overall, the narrative doesn't do nearly enough to expose her flaws or interrogate her motives for searching for Rachelle. Having yet another book with a white woman who "learns about the plight of the indigenous people" rang really hollow, and, of course, there were no indigenous people in this book who had more than two lines of dialogue.

The point the author was trying to make didn't really come through, and could have been much better made in a story that centered indigenous people. The author said she owed this book to PG people and indigenous people, but I can't imagine why. Maybe the point the author was trying to make didn't need to be made at all - white people should hold each other accountable for their morbid fascination with and need to center themselves in racist tragedies, but acting like a book highlighting that is a gift to the discourse feels a bit much. The slurs and stereotypes were also constant and hard to stomach, and although the author was obviously going for realism, it felt extremely gratuitous at times, and there wasn't a single character that pushed back ever, not even Jenny. This book also could have had a much interesting exploration of how poor white people other and look down on poor brown people to retain their spot a spot above in the white supremacist hierarchy.

The writing style was also hard to follow, there was no narrative arc or build, and I didn't really care what was happening. Overall, a big miss for me.

Thank you to NetGalley and Astra Publishing House for an advanced reader's copy in exchange for an honest review!

I really felt for Jenny as we got to know her more especially as it reflects flaws in the current system. Overall this is one that will stay with me.

Book Review: Fireweed by Lauren Haddad

I recently finished Fireweed by Lauren Haddad and I have to say, it left a strong impression on me. Set in the industrial north of Prince George, Canada, the story centers around Jenny Hayes, a woman stuck in a life she’s not quite sure about. Jenny lives next door to Rachelle, the only First Nations woman in the neighborhood, who has two young daughters. Jenny longs for a child herself and wrestles with feelings of jealousy and confusion over why Rachelle, despite her less-than-perfect yard and disheveled home, seems to have what she wants most.

Jenny’s life is complicated by the people around her—her mother Fi, who’s more interested in chain smoking than childcare, and her best friend Missy, who’s living the suburban dream but still feels hollow inside. Jenny steps into Rachelle’s world by volunteering to babysit her kids, trying to bridge the gap between their very different lives.

The story takes a darker turn when two young women, Beth Tremblay and Rachelle, go missing along Highway 16. The media only focuses on Beth’s disappearance, leaving Rachelle overlooked and her children taken by the state. Feeling that no one else will stand up for her neighbor, Jenny embarks on a clumsy investigation that forces her—and the reader—to confront uncomfortable truths about race, class, and gender in rural communities.

Lauren Haddad does an incredible job peeling back layers of prejudice and self-interest, showing how good intentions can sometimes be clouded by personal bias. The book is gripping and rebellious, challenging readers to think deeply about how we see others and ourselves.

On a personal note, I was immediately drawn in by the striking cover—definitely one of those designs that makes you want to pick up the book. There’s been some controversy around Fireweed, which honestly only made me more curious. And I’m glad I dove in. The writing is beautiful, the setting vivid and immersive, and the characters feel real and complex. When I read a book, I like to focus purely on the story itself, without distractions from outside noise or opinions—and for me, this book delivered big time. It was genuinely entertaining, well-crafted, and absolutely worth the read.

Overall, I’d give Fireweed four stars. It’s a thoughtful and powerful novel that stays with you long after you turn the last page. If you’re looking for a story that challenges perspectives while keeping you hooked, this one’s for you.

⚠️This review was written based on personal opinions and experiences with the book. Individual preferences may vary⚠️

I picked up this book hoping for a powerful, respectful exploration of the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) crisis. What I got was a deeply disappointing, harmful narrative built around a white savior fantasy.

The story follows Jenny Hayes, a white, bored housewife, as she inserts herself into the investigation of her First Nations neighbor’s disappearance. Instead of honoring Indigenous voices and experiences, the book sidelines them completely, centering Jenny’s self-serving guilt and amateur sleuthing.

This is not allyship. This is exploitation.

The book is riddled with damaging stereotypes and casual racism:

Referring to an Indigenous character only as "the man with the braid" for most of the story, stripping him of humanity.
Painting Indigenous men as violent based purely on appearance.
Using racial slurs without any meaningful critique or necessity.
Repeating harmful, tired clichés about “Indian time” and framing missing Indigenous women as victims of partying or sex work.
Depicting Indigenous people as disconnected from land, culture, and community — perpetuating colonial myths instead of challenging them.
If the author's goal was to "owe a story to the people of Prince George," this book missed the mark by a mile. It does nothing to elevate Indigenous voices, educate readers, or spark meaningful conversation. It commodifies Indigenous suffering for the sake of a white character’s personal growth.

Indigenous communities deserve better. Readers deserve better. Stories about MMIW deserve better.

If you truly want to engage with the MMIW crisis, seek out books by Indigenous authors — those who tell their own stories with truth, power, and the respect they deserve, such as:

Stolen by Ann-Helén Laestadius
Probably Ruby by Lisa Bird-Wilson
The Break by Katherena Vermette

I feel really conflicted about this novel. I found it genuinely gripping and I understood the author's project - of inhabiting racism and ignorance as it's experienced and trying to break down those barriers. The community she's describing isn't one I know well, and there's something moving and necessary in showing remote, poor communities that aren't supported by government or media. I also think she's a strong, vivid writer.

That said, I found the indigenous characters really thin, which was disappointing in a novel that's trying to show how those communities are ignored or gawked at. I also found the ending really disappointing - why is this described as a mystery when it's never solved and the narrator happily ignores everything she learned? I don't really understand the purpose of the book, which feels like it's trying to do a few too many things at once. I'm interested to read this author's next book but this didn't completely work for me.

Along Highway 16 in Prince George, British Columbia, Canada, women have been disappearing since 1969. It seems, though, only white women are counted in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police's efforts of finding these women. Indigenous women, (who make up the majority of the missing), are sadly, forgotten.
This is a fictional work about a woman named Jenny Hayes, who's neighbor, Rachelle, goes missing after Jenny befriends her. Jenny seems to be the only person looking for Rachelle and even though there are definite clues of foul play, no one else seems to care. Rachelle is the only First Nations woman living on Jenny's street. This is also felt like a coming-of-age novel for Jenny, who spends the summer coming to grips with herself, her family drama and her missing neighbor. I was riveted.

*Special thanks to NetGalley and *Astra Books for this digital e-arc.*

I really enjoyed this book and the build up was incredible. I feel as though the author handled the main character’s internal conflict very realistically. However, the ending just really fell flat for me. It seemed as though all the internal work was for nothing.

In a rust belt town in British Columbia, a white housewife becomes obsessed with her Indigenous neighbor’s disappearance … and the community’s indifference to it.

“Fireweed” (Astra House, $27) by Lauren Haddad unravels a slow-burning mystery laced with keen social critique, as Jenny’s search forces her to confront uncomfortable truths about race, class and her own blind spots. Unflinching and quietly devastating, this novel explores the stories we tell to justify injustice — and the ones we finally start listening to when it’s too late.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Astra Publishing for the free e-ARC in exchange for my honest review.

Fireweed explores the marginalization of missing indigenous women living in poverty in Canada and how difficult it can be to "do the right thing" when systemic powers and your own insecurities hold you back. I really enjoyed the first half of the story as its a slow burn thriller of the missing women and the search for what happened. However, this theme gets lost in the second half of the book when the story switches into more of a character story of Jenny and her bumbling quest to find out what happened. The second half pretty much lost my interest as the author rambled off course. 2.5 stars rounded up.

I feel like Firewood should be an important read for the themes it covers. But, it pains me to say that I also feel like it wasn't executed as well as it could have been. The plight of Rachelle and the other missing Indigenous women was overshadowed by Jenny's conspiracy theories, so many of which were based on prejudice and miseducation.

And while I appreciated the idea that all the women in the book were victims of some form of abuse or violence, it seemed to dilute the message. I felt like it lost focus sometimes.

Additionally, I thought the tendril ARCs around Jenny being untethered and unfulfilled as a mother were the most interesting, but honestly wish they had been explored in a separate book.

*Fireweed* pulls you in with its raw, emotional storytelling and complex characters. It makes you think about privilege, justice, and who gets heard. A thought-provoking read that stays with you.

(I received a free copy of the book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review! )

Reading this book was a struggle. The story and the points the book were trying to make were important but they got bogged down in the dismal day to day work of Jenny. She is a listless part time employed housewife whose husband is gone for long stretches of time. She and her friends make assumptions about First Nations people, extending to her own neighbor. Once one is disproved, Jenny replaces it with another. Throughout the book are assumptions that Jenny has made about people. I didn't enjoy being in her head for those. After slightly befriending her First Nation neighbor, Rachelle, she becomes obsessed when Rachelle disappears. Okay, solid plot opportunity! But then it meanders on with Jenny trying to investigate, the police pushing her off, and no one even Rachelle's family helping her. This book is listed as literary fiction and not a mystery, which gives a good indication that Rachelle's absence is not the main focus. But again, the arc of the book is as listless as Jenny. As long as you aren't asking too much from the story, this is a likeable read.

Jenny's bored. She married at eighteen and now sits around with only a very part-time retail job to occupy her time, waiting to get pregnant. Prince George, British Colombia twenty years ago was not a place where young women made careers, at least not young women as directionless as Jenny. Her husband works long hours, weeks away from home and she doesn't like her family or anyone she knows, but she is fascinated by the woman with two young children who lives in the house behind hers, in no small part because the woman is Indigenous. They form a cautious acquaintanceship and when Rachelle disappears, Jenny decides that she will find her.

Fireweed is an odd book. The author isn't Canadian, nor does she live in Prince George, although she has spent time there. The novel is recounted from the point of view of a narrator who feel compelled to explain the details of Canadian life that the average American might be unfamiliar with, despite having never left Prince George. Jenny is also curiously disconnected from the place where she has spent her entire life. She has no friends she enjoys spending time with, she doesn't like her family, she doesn't like her husband's family or her husband, really. There is a sense that she looks down on everyone in her orbit as being trashy, but she hasn't found anything she likes more and her utter lack of curiosity about anything that isn't Rachelle is the most interesting thing about her. So a bored lady ineffectually tries to find a missing woman in a half-hearted way and that's the book.

There is, of course, a purpose to the book, to draw awareness to the real and horrific issue of the number of Indigenous woman and girls missing in Canada, and the work of the MMIWG movement. Laudable, sure, but the novel is set decades in the past which makes it seem like a problem from before and Jenny's lack of knowledge and endless returning to racist sterotyping made for sometimes unpleasant reading. Following Jenny as she wonders what the word "Métis" means (unlikely in someone educated in Canadian public schools, in my opinion) or is surprised whenever a First Nations house has a tidy yard or a vegetable garden was less an education than an exercise in frustration.

I'll end with the positive aspects of this book. Lauren Haddad writes proficiently and while this novel was a misstep for her, she may well be worth reading when she turns her attention to a setting she is more comfortable with.

I requested Fireweed by Lauren Haddad on Netgalley, thinking (based on the topic) that it must have been written by someone who's partly Indigenous or at least comes from British Columbia. But that's not the case. The fact that sometimes there's not enough information about the authors on there, especially if it's their first book, makes it all a gamble. If I knew this author wasn't Indigenous, I wouldn't have wanted to read it.

I understand what the author's trying to do in Fireweed, but centering the white woman is not it, and the Highway of Tears is an atrocious tragedy we shouldn't be talking about through how a clueless white woman sees it. I found Jenny to be a complex and quite nuanced character, but it shouldn't have been her that's drawn with so much attention to detail, while the actual victims are more like a backdrop.

It's uncomfortable and unpleasant to be inside the brain of a racist white woman, and it made me feel a lot of secondhand embarrassment and white shame. She does go through some character development: she learns not to use slurs and thinks about what being native to a land means, but there are still an awful lot of harmful stereotypes, and the conclusion of the story kind of undoes all her development.

It's a good character study, but I don't think the book was meant to be that. I also don't want to feel empathy for this ignorant white woman in this situation. I imagine it's quite a challenge to write a book from inside a racist person's mind (unless you're racist yourself 😬), but should we do it? Should we put white people in the center of BIPOC tragedies when it's already like that in real life? Also, there are just too many racist tropes and slurs in this book that made my stomach turn.

The book will be released a week before the National Awareness Day for Missing or Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, which I found to be in poor taste. I can't help but think that the non-Indigenous author and the publisher are trying to cash in on the memorial day by timing the release like this 😒

If you check other reviews, you'll see most people agreeing with me, so I'd highly encourage everyone to not buy this book!