I know that Charlie Jane Anders is beloved, and I love a story of queer, found families and magic, but this novel unfortunately didn't work for me. I found the literary plot line too disjointed from the family story and the chaotic rules of the magic hard to follow. (This is place where I'm pretty sure I'm missing the point—the messiness of the magic is a metaphor, etc etc, but it was still hard for me to untangle what was happening and why.)

What did work were the characters themselves, who were vibrant and real and very much showing their own agency. (This felt like one of those rare novels where the mechanisms of plotting took a backseat to the characters making choices and telling the author to write it all down.)

Would recommend this one to readers who are looking for fiction that tells the story of queer liberation history through a light magic overlay, and certainly folks who have enjoyed Anders' previous work.

I wanted to love this book but the characters and the story just weren't that engaging to me. They just seemed kind of uninteresting and uninterested in the world.

Thank you so much to NetGalley and Tor for sharing the eARC of "Lessons in Magic and Disaster" for review. Opinions are, as always, completely my own. I was a little nervous about this book, purely because I am generally a historical accuracy nerd, but honestly, I absolutely loved all the liberties Charlie Jane Anders took in this story. The plot is centered around our main character, Jamie, who teaches at the fictional Rugby College, where she is also a graduate student. It primarily explores Jamie's relationship with her mother, Serena, which has grown complex, particularly since they are both still struggling to process their grief over the death of Jamie's other mother, Mae.

Jamie has experimented with magic all her life, asking for small things from the universe in exchange for offerings. I really like the magic in this book, particularly as someone who prefers a vague or more mysterious magic system to something with hard and fast rules. The writing conveys a sense of how much is unknowable in a beautiful way. For me, the idea that you need to sacrifice something or give the universe something in exchange for a blessing has always rung true, but the story also deconstructs that idea in a unique way. As Jamie tries to teach her mother, Serena, how to use magic to find herself and get her life back, things predictably go awry and the situation becomes a total disaster, as the title promises.

The backdrop of Jamie's parents and their marriage is also a lovely framing device for the story's other primary arc, the tension in Jamie's relationship with her nonbinary partner Ro. Their relationship felt so real and tender to me, and authentic to the way that people engage with each other when they're hurt. It illustrated the strain that grief can put on a relationship and at the same time, how a strong relationship can be your center of gravity. Without giving any spoilers, the narrative touches on the current political situation surrounding censorship on college campuses and the rise of homophobia and transphobia in particular in the United States, and how that impacts all of the characters and the way they engage with their situations.

I loved my experience with this book and fell in love with almost all the characters, with some obvious and intentional exceptions. There were just two things that didn't fully work for me. The main antagonist of the book felt a little bit like a two-dimensional character to me. That's a real kind of guy, we can all think of some of them, but I just wanted him to have a more specific defining trait or some aspect that confounded my expectations, since the rest of the book does that so well. Beyond that, in my opinion, the narrative voice veered occasionally into what I can only describe as millennial-speak. Spork jokes, using interjections like "bleh" as full sentences, that kind of thing. For me, it was distracting, since a lot of the prose was intricate and interesting and well-crafted. Ultimately, there were a lot of lines that I definitely would've highlighted if I were reading my own physical copy. Overall, especially as someone who has lost a family member recently, this was a cathartic read and I highly recommend it.

Lessons in Magic and Disaster is a spellbinding blend of queer joy, generational trauma, and academic chaos, with Anders’s signature warmth and wit. The magic feels both personal and profound, even when the plot occasionally meanders.

I really had to fight to read this book. I think the voice was too personal for third-person; there was no narrator, yet the story was told from both an intimate and impersonal perspective. Another reader who can overlook the voice may enjoy the book! The writing style was not for me.

Additionally, I struggled with grasping the whimsy of a reality where magic can be done with pure intention, the depth of 18th century literature research, and then certain modern-day allusions (like listening to K-pop). The contrast felt more like whiplash than a setting.

I do think the author provided excellent social commentary and perspectives that are necessary today.

If you’re anything like me you’ll want to pre-order Lessons in Magic and Disaster or request it at your library ASAP. It follows grad student, Jamie, who is trying to finish her dissertation and nudge her mom back into living after the death of her other mom. She does this, as you may have guessed from the title, by teaching her mom to do magic. Things do not go according to plan.

I loved this novel so, so much. From the snapshots of the main character’s research and teaching life to the complex and varied exploration of queer histories, to the poignant navigation of relationships and desire and magic. As someone who has a PhD in lit and still regularly nerds out about the history of the novel, the author’s note was perfection. And now I have some real live 18th century women writers to follow up on!

I love Anders' work, and this book is no exception. The intertwined tale of two generations -- the mother's and the child's -- and how they both combat the same sort of bigotry, although with different tactics. Also, witchcraft! Great characters and writing here.

I love how Charlie Jane Anders writes people, their thoughts and their interactions. Her character characters are likable and go through relatable story arcs. The author went through so much work on this to create a fictitious work of fiction and to really dig into what it’s like to be a graduate student of English literature. I really appreciate all the layers of this book. The story is about and parenting and being a child, it’s also about being a lover and a partner. I really enjoyed the parallels between the 17th century subjects of the protagonist’s research with the protagonists own struggles. Really well done book. I enjoyed this a lot.

Lessons in Magic and Disaster unfortunately was not my cup of tea. I did not understand the plot and the writing was a little all over the place. I didn't connect with the story or characters.

Thank you so much to Tor and NetGalley for this ARC!

This was such a beautiful, sensitive, yet raw look at a family torn apart by grief, but struggling to meet each other so they can survive.

Jamie is a professor working on her dissertation of a novel from the late 1700s, attempting to navigate life in the wake of Mae's, her mother, death. Serena is a former lawyer who was brought low after a career ending scandal and is also mourning the death of her wife, Mae, a death that eats Serena alive.

In the midst of picking herself back up and putting herself together, Jamie has learned magic. Small, sacrifices and blessings to get her through her life and hope for certain outcomes. In a bid to bring Serena back to the human world, Jamie elects to teach her magic as well, but Jamie doesn't understand just how much Serena wants justice.

It was at turns heartbreaking, humorous, realistic, and haunting. Jamie teaching Serena and Serena's first independent working have disastrous consequences, ones that Serena attempts to make right and ones that Jamie attempt to teach Serena from.

I'm a huge fan of Anders' work, and this and All the Birds in the Sky hit the spot in such a special way.

Let me begin by saying that I love Charlie Jane Anders. I think that she is one of the greatest genre writers working today; her <u>Unstoppable Trilogy</u> was impossible to put down, and <u>All the Birds in the Sky</u> is on my shortlist of books to recommend to anyone who asks. As a writer, I often refer to her essays in <u>Never Say You Can’t Survive</u>. My daughter’s name was inspired by her.

Full disclosure: I received a digital Advanced Readers Copy, but I have also preordered the novel, which releases August 19th, 2025.

[bc:Lessons in Magic and Disaster|217387772|Lessons in Magic and Disaster|Charlie Jane Anders|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1728609256l/217387772._SY75_.jpg|223888040]

Anders' latest novel, <a href="https://greenapplebooks.com/book/9781250867322?utm_source=charliejane&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=everything-you-need-to-know-about-my-next-novel">Lessons in Magic and Disaster</a>, reads like a very personal story. As a fan, I subscribe to her newsletter, have had the pleasure of corresponding with her, and am aware of her journey as a professional, as a trans person, and as a writer. This novel reads raw and autobiographical. As I was reading this ARC, there are jarring moments of language which feel out of place, like using “glorp” as an adverb, or GenX characters using GenZ idioms. I’m not sure if there’s another pass coming from the editor or if it is a stylistic choice, but the inconsistency in slang and idioms tells me that this <i>POURED</i> out of Charlie Jane.

[a:Charlie Jane Anders|4918514|Charlie Jane Anders|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1532450668p2/4918514.jpg]

And it very much feels that way. Our protagonist, Jamie, is a trans woman whose narrative chapters often feel like a mashup of Bret Easton Ellis’ penchant for detail and a panic attack. Avoiding spoilers, Jamie is a person who is very introverted, very stressed about keeping her different relationships together, but also has clearly not grown up, even if she’s been forced to in more ways than one. And she can do magic.

Likewise, Serena, who is a foil to Jaime but also a key part of the narrative, has her own interspersed chapters which add a lot of depth to her past, fleshing out the person she was and juxtaposing it against the person we meet during Jamie’s narrative. The Serena chapters are a narrative breath of fresh air. Jamie’s chapters are dense, filled with a lot of inner monologue and crisis management which feels exhausting at times, but I think we are supposed to feel that way. By slowly revealing Serena's past throughout the novel, Anders does a marvelous job at showing us TRULY how far she has fallen from the person that she used to be, and why Jamie goes through the effort she does to rebuild their relationship.

I mentioned that this is obviously a personal story. Jamie is trans, but the novel is not about her finding that identity; although there is a B story of transphobic students who harass Jamie. But it is a treatise about the stress in managing relationships. It’s about over-extending your attention to one loved one at the expense of another. It talks about the consequences of choosing to keep your feelings to yourself for feat of hurting those you care for. Ultimately, it is a novel about coming to terms with honestly understanding what you want, even if you can't have it anymore.

It’s a good story. For those of us who are introverted people who get to do what we are passionate about, the story feels very familiar. For those of us who are no longer those people (Hi, it’s me), looking upon Jamie’s bohemian life feels cozy and familiar, especially if you sold out and went corporate, as so many of us Word Nerds ultimately do. The language can be jarring at times; again, I’m reviewing an ARC and so my copy may not be the novel’s Super-Saiyan ultimate form. But I think that is also okay; Jamie’s story makes the reader feel overwhelmed at times, there’s nothing wrong with it being written that way. It makes the story’s heavier, marquee, stick-with-you-forever moments hit all the harder.

I absolutely loved Lessons in Magic and Disaster. It has complex, lovable characters that are frustrating, and feel very alive. There are so many interesting and intereconnected layers and create this immersive atmosphere of being a fly on the wall, watching the events transpire, caring about these fictional people and the situations they get themselves into. It's full of love, and grief and imperfect people trying to do the right things and the wrong things with the best of intentions.

I also enjoyed the exploration of 18th century women writers. Oddly enough, delightfully enough, this ultra queer, ultra modern book, has me adding books from Jane Collier & Sarah Fielding to my TBR, even if some of the aspects mentioned in this book are fictionalized. As well as many of the books mentioned in the authour's historical note, so if you're anything like me, you'll end up with more books to read as a result for this one.

There are so many *amazing* lines in Lessons in Magic and Disaster that it made me use the highlights feature on Netgalley for the first time ever.

It really spoke to me, as a queer, as a person, as a parent, and as an academia dabbler. It has some challenging topics in it - as you might expect when characters are dealing with the death of a parent/partner, and the resonant grief around that, reactionary/queerphobic/transphobic activists, and just generally how well written, complicated parent-child relationships can be - but it's also deeply full of love and growth.

I was able to read Lessons in Magic and Disaster courtesy of Netgalley, and the publisher, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

I've been wanting to read a Charlie Jane Anders book for a while, and perhaps this just wasn't the best place to start. I had so much trouble following the characters and plot. The prose, while beautiful, made it really hard for me to actually engage with the story. I know other readers will connect with this book, and I will recommend it to the right folks, but it didn't work very well for me.

The most recent work I read by Charlie Jane was the Unstoppable Trilogy. The world of that series felt like the one that she was hoping for. In contrast, "Lessons in Magic and Disaster" is very much about the world as it is, both now and in the 19th century.

Genre wise I'd call it magic realism as for the most part it's recognizably the America we all live with (and are dealing with) right now, with the slight difference of some people are witches that can perform magic spells. The story very deftly explores themes of grief, and, as Charlie Jane put it, the difference between "tyranny and mutual aid." Jamie, the protagonist is both trying to help her mother grieve the death of her wife, and also teaching her magic in the process. At the same time, she is working on a dissertation about 18th century women authors, using some historic material, and some material she created that has parallel themes. I especially appreciated how there were subtle hints of the 18th century in the modern day plot, such as a character's dead name being referred to as R____.

This is a good one for fans of magical realism or urban fantasy, strong LGBTQ themes (Charlie Jane in a blog referred to it as the "gayest book" she's ever written), and exploring ideas of how do we manage grief, and how do we treat each other in tumultuous times.

DISCLAIMER: I received a free copy of a galley this book from Netgalley and the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

"Lessons in Magic and Disaster" is a book that is practically tailor-made for my reading tastes; it was just about perfect in almost every way. I felt privileged to be a part of the ARC team for this beautiful, thoughtful book.

Jamie is a grad student working on her dissertation about 18th-century literature, with a focus on women writers of the time who may or may not have been queer. She's also helping out her mother, with whom she's had a fraught relationship. I was a little thrown at first by referencing her mother by her first name but it worked with their complicated relationship and the structure of the points of view.

Serena is unmoored from losing the love of her life, Mae, the glue that held their loving queer family together. Jamie tries to help her process her grief by teaching her magic. She's a trans witch, a powerful one at that, but she has always worked in secret, finding places in the wilderness between the modern and the primeval to do her workings. But her mother, filled with rage and a need for revenge, soon taps into a malevolent source as Jamie faces a targeted, transphobic harassment campaign over her work as a student teacher.

Along the way Jamie's relationship with her nonbinary partner Ro (named after Ro Laren! squee!) takes a hit as the secrets she's kept from everyone she loves come to roost.

The story is told from Jamie's point of view, then back story from Serena's point of view as she reminisces about the love story between her and Mae, then bounces into nerdy tangents from the POVs of the 18th century women writers. I liked this structure although sometimes Serena/Mae and Jamie/Ro sounded similar and the 18th century lit excerpts could be clunky to read.

This felt like a very personal book for the author and I appreciated that she really put her heart and soul into these characters. If you can only read trans characters in queernormative worlds where the stakes are low for them, this isn't the book for you. There was plenty of discrimination and misgendering, and I liked how it showed both queer folks and witches finding solidarity against the hate. A very relevant and essential book.

I also loved how the characters were complex people, sometimes very unlikable, but I always understood their motivations. This was an incredibly queer book but I loved how it showed queer love and queer family dynamics without being a romance. This is life after the HEA.

This book really spoke to me personally and I saw myself in these characters. It will stay with me for a very long time and was a meaningful, impactful read for me. Reading this was therapeutic in a way, and I laughed, cried and felt touched by the nerdiness of each character.

Heartfelt thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance review copy. I am leaving this review voluntarily.

Lessons in Magic and Disaster was a book I wanted to love, but ultimately struggled with. Written about queer and particularly trans identity in the midst of our current firestorm, it's a book with real-world weight. That it's also a book which refuses to fully interrogate its characters and their positions perhaps makes sense with regards to that... but the novel's confidence proved grating to me. The key assumptions its protagonists make about others are rarely disproven; those who appear bigoted are always bigoted, and those who appear virtuous are always virtuous. This ultimately came across as more self-righteous than empowering. However much I agreed with the book's overall message, I found myself rolling my eyes enough times to knock a star off my review. Furthermore, the book's handling of queer identity came across at times as more delimiting than expansive; it reminded me in uncomfortable ways of many of the issues with second-wave feminism (see Jack Halberstam). Setting those issues aside, the magic system was so vague I found myself questioning if it even existed (or why, if it did, characters managed to believe in it), and the dialogue sounded artificial and frankly therapy-ish to my ears.
However, these criticisms aside, Lessons in Magic and Disaster is a genuinely engaging read. There was a momentum in the book which kept me reading even at times when I leaned towards quitting. While I enjoyed the Jamie sections, it was the parts set in the past which particularly intrigued me. It was nice to read about the relationships between the characters, the ways they care about each other and why. Charlie Jane Anders is a skilled drawer-out of relationship dynamics, and the book shines most when it leans into that.

Thank you NetGalley and Tor Books for the advance copy!

This book is an incredibly ambitious display of insight into family, change, grief, and perspective. There are so many layers to the story it’s almost difficult to keep all of them in hand. While I really admire Anders’s close details, incisive commentary, and academic thoroughness, the story did really lag in places that felt too disconnected from its core. But it also makes me want to wander through the local woods to find sites of natural reclamation and start casting spells, and anyone who enjoys solid literary analysis and/or critical cultural thought will find Jamie a highly relatable protagonist.

We follow Jamie, a young trans woman working on her PhD dissertation, as she struggles with the death of one parent, attempts to reconnect with her living mother, clashes with conservative students in her classroom, and exists under the judgmental eye of late-stage capitalism. She toils on her dissertation, taking deep dives into the lives of 18th-century women who transgressed social boundaries and wrote their experiences in novels. In the backdrop of it all, she casts spells in secret, workings in nature that draw on her truest wants — but the small innocence of these moments is shattered when she tries to teach her mother how to be a witch as well, and magic goes from being a comfort to being a disaster.

I loved the way Jamie’s dissertation research is woven together with her contemporary experiences; I actually wish this had been a bigger part of the novel. There’s a lot to be said here for the way perspective changes, switching between subject and object, moving between being the observer to having the experience of being viewed and analyzed. The interwoven timelines of the 18th-century women and writing of Emily (the novel Jamie is researching), the younger Serena and Mae (Jamie’s parents) getting together and figuring out their relationship, and finally Jamie and the older Serena finding each other again really worked for me in tandem with the conservative bad actors shadowing the plot. The addition of Jamie’s relationship with Ro (Jamie’s spouse), however, really dragged me out of everything else. I found Ro a particularly unlikeable character, and every scene Ro was in slowed to a crawl for me. Much as I love to see nonbinary rep, they felt like more of an unnecessary complication than an actual part of Jamie’s life.

This is the sort of book that will speak to a very particular audience. The dialogue is largely unnatural, and the prose style never really stays in a particular POV; often it feels as though Anders is addressing the reader directly for a paragraph or several before returning to the story. This is a slow read that will make you think, and in that, it really succeeds.

——
This book took me about 8.5 hours to read.

In this contemporary fantasy, literature grad student Jamie teaches her grieving mother how to work magic.

This book was okay. I thought the subplot of Jamie's literary research was unengaging compared to the main plot. Overall, it didn't wow me.

This book was amazing! First of all, I love Charlie Jane’s work, whether listening to her podcast or reading her fiction or nonfiction work, so I was really looking forward to reading this latest novel. Thanks to NetGalley and Tor, I was able to read this early, and I am so grateful I did!

Jamie and her mother Serena have a difficult relationship (understatement). Jamie realizes her skills as a teacher and magic practitioner may be able to help pull her mother out of the deep depression she’s been in since the death of Jamie’s other mother and Serena’s wife, Mae. But, of course, things don’t always turn out as expected, and both Jamie and Serena have to deal with the consequences of their actions not only for themselves but for the people around them.

Charlie Jane shows a wicked sense of humor plus some noteworthy observations about contemporary culture while dealing big subjects: family issues, LGBTQ+ rights, anti-trans measures, social media doxxing, and much more. The movement between past and present in the plot (as well as the inclusion of a literary mystery!) also kept me engaged.

As someone who earned a Ph.D. and recently retired from a career in English education, I especially connected with her observations about academia and the current state of the humanities in the US. I also loved all the references to 18th century literature, Jamie’s specialty, and I really appreciated the books and articles listed at the end of the novel for anyone who enjoyed this book and wanted to know more.

In my latest review book from Net Galley, Lessons in Magic and Disaster by Charlie Jane Anders, Jamie’s mom Serena is hiding from the world. She hasn’t been able to deal with the death of her wife. Jamie is secretly a witch and wants to help her mother. So she decides to teach Serena how to do magic. What follows is a tale about dealing with loss, grief, and figuring out life.

This book was not at all what I expected it to be. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first. I liked the characters, Jamie, Mae, and Serena especially, but I wasn’t sure about the plot. Lessons in Magic and Disaster is a very character focused book. It was a big adjustment going from a more plot based like King Sorrow to a character focused book like Lessons. And yet this is exactly what I needed, a big change of pace.

I love most of the characters in the book and I always find it wonderful reading about characters who are not at all like me. Some people claim that they want to read about characters like them. I think thats so very boring. I want to read about different characters and different worlds (or at least different parts of ours). I love reading about gay and trans characters because these are people and worlds that I don’t know about. And there are so many wonderful people here. The world is full of wonderful people. I like getting glimpses into unique worlds and people.

That all said, I could relate to that sense of loss and grief. I lost someone very important to me in 2021. I feel that loss every single day of my life. There is a giant hole in my life. So the loss and grief portrayed in this book connected with me. I understood that. Later in the book, there was a part that was tough to read. I read it but my heart ached for these characters.

Charlie Jane Anders is such a great writer. Its amazing that she goes from a fantastic trilogy of sci-fi novels to this book about magic and grief and loss and all of it is wonderful. I love how she writes her characters. She has a great ear for dialogue and for description. Without a doubt, she is one of my favorite writers right now.

Lessons in Magic and Disaster was not at all what I thought it would be. I’m really glad I read it. I loved it. And I do recommend it to anyone who is looking for a character drama with magic, grief, and loss. Its a powerful book. It will make you think and feel.

Lessons in Magic and Disaster comes out on August 19th, 2025. Thank you to the publisher and Net Galley for the early digital copy of this book.