I initially requested this one because of the stunning cover but was also super intrigued by the premise. And while this probably won’t be a favorite book of the year, it has a lot to offer readers and has certainly given me a lot to think about in terms of forgiveness and how much people can change from who they were in the past. And any book that makes me reflect is one that I will always recommend.

Told in dual perspectives between Max and Vincent (with his POV mostly told in flashbacks to ten years prior), I found this a really effective use of perspectives to tell an intriguing story at the start of a new relationship. Through these dual perspectives the novel brilliantly explores trans identity, discovering your sexual identity, racism, grappling with past mistakes, and just the complexities of being a human who makes mistakes. Some of the conversations in this novel are so raw and real, and I really appreciated the poignancy of the author’s writing on such difficult subjects.

The characters in this book are very complex and feel lived in. None of them are particularly likeable as they are all grappling with so much in their own heads that it makes them kind of standoffish and judgemental. I definitely had trouble clicking a bit with how inward thinking everyone was and the lack of empathy they showed each other and those they interacted with throughout the story. But I think we all go through times in our lives where we aren’t our best selves and aren’t the best partners or friends.

I am still grappling with how this one ends and don’t think it totally works for me. But that’s okay. I would still recommend this one as the writing is so wonderful and the questions it offers up to the reader are so worth thinking about.

Rating: 5/5

Thank you to NetGalley for an eARC in exchange for my honest review!

This book hooked me immediately. Not because of a particularly tense/fast paced story, but because it was such an authentic, the unique window into Max's life. As a queer person, I felt incredibly seen while also gaining a much more robust perspective on what life is like for trans people. Nicola does a beautiful job of portraying how much queerness affects everyday life, both because of how other people react to it and how much self doubt/self analyzing it can create. Reading this felt like watching a wonderful, unique indie film in the best way.

This novel stood out to me as quite different from the books I usually read. It unfolds through a dual narrative structure, alternating between Max’s perspective in the present day and Vincent’s viewpoint in the past. This approach offers a rich, layered examination of how relationships develop and change over time, allowing the reader to see events and emotions from multiple angles.

The character development throughout the story is notably deep and thoughtful. Both Max and Vincent are portrayed with complexity and nuance, which adds significant emotional weight and authenticity to their experiences. The author takes great care in revealing their inner struggles and growth, making it easy to connect with each protagonist on a personal level.

That said, there were moments when the pacing felt somewhat uneven. Certain sections slowed down the momentum, which occasionally made it challenging to stay fully engaged in the narrative. Despite this, the novel’s core exploration of how different perspectives influence the understanding of a relationship, as well as the emotional baggage that everyone carries, remained powerful and relatable.

Overall, this book offered a reflective and meaningful reading experience. It invites readers to consider the complexities of love and memory in a way that is both compelling and thought-provoking, making it a worthwhile addition to anyone’s reading list.

This was different from my normal reads-

This novel unfolds through a dual narrative, Max in the present and Vincent in the past offering a layered look at how relationships evolve over time. The character development is rich and thoughtful, giving real depth to both protagonists. However, the pacing occasionally felt uneven, which made it harder to stay fully immersed at times. Still, the story's exploration of how different perspectives shape a relationship and the emotional baggage we all bring with us was both relatable and compelling. A reflective and worthwhile read.

Thank you to the Dial Press and Netgalley for this ARC in exchange for my honest reviews. I really wanted to like this one because the writing was so sharp, but I couldn’t get into the story so I DNFed

With how interesting and witty Max is I could not bring myself to give a shit about Vincent’s backstory/POVs, and his big reveal pissed me off so much I wanted to dnf. Also, it’s just generally disjointed- so many random things happen and I’d forget who entire characters were.

I enjoyed Dinan’s overall writing style and dry humor, the representation is refreshing, and many nice quotes are found throughout, unfortunately it didn’t save the story. I feel I should’ve started with Dinan’s first book, Bellies; I’ll have to circle back to later.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for early access to this ebook, available as of 5/27/25.

This book was a languid but emotional journey through dual timelines and points of view that surround Max and Vincent and how, in the end, those experiences make them who they are, and whether those people can have a life together.
Max is a trans woman and I adored her as a character. Anyone who can be honest with their characters and show that 'not everyone is a monolith' is what I really look for. Max struggles with her culture, dating, and trauma.
I mention that the storyline was almost languid and that's because this is written how life is; you just roll with the punches and continue on. It's easy daily struggles and the really hard ones. I appreciate the unflinching look at the trans experience, culture and sexuality.

Unfortunately this didn't turn out to be my thing. I just disliked the fmc, she was just... unlikable. I couldn't stick around to find out if she became more pleasant because the story dragged too much before it started. Max seemed like a good guy but he wasn't interesting enough to stick around for all his Thailandian adventures.

This book invites readers to deeply reflect on life, love, happiness, and the transformative power of forgiveness. The prose is beautifully crafted, rich with emotional depth and subtlety, capturing the complexities of the human experience. What truly sets this book apart, however, is its diverse cast of characters who feel authentic, flawed, and incredibly human. The exploration of the trans perspective is both novel and refreshing, offering a much-needed voice that is often underrepresented in literary fiction. Overall, this is a powerful and thought-provoking read that resonates long after the final page is turned.

Thank you to Negalley and The Dial Press for a copy. This book is out now!

Is it possible to love someone after you know their worst moments? Is it possible to love someone when you don't know their worst moments?

That's an existential question, applying to each and all of us. It's one to ask yourself when thinking about any relationship, including your relationship with yourself. Max is doing a lot of thinking about relationships to self, and to Truth, and to facts...and Vincent. She's been blindsided in her complex developing relationship to him. Add to this a quite conservative Chinese family (pretty much a trope heading into stereotype-dom at this point) that's honestly struggling (I mean struggling, and being honest about it) with her transfem identity, and to the past actions Vincent undertook that form a separate narrative strand.

When Max decides she is going to pursue a heteronormative identity, it came after a crisis in her life. This makes it feel a bit forced. If this had been something Max was mulling over, I'd've found its narrative suddenness a bit less jarring. That said, I'm actually kind of relieved not to have the narrative focus on Max's transition...it's happened, it's done, what's next? Vincent being okay with her transness was, dare I say it, a bit less startling than I was perhaps expected to find it. Until, that is, we move into a timeline of Vincent's past and discover what Max now learns; this event is going to change everything in the present as it did in the past.

What matters in all these deftly plucked strands of Author Dinan's story-web is the essential unknowability of one's emotional life once given into the hands of another. What we feel for the other, what is felt by the other, how all that will intertwine to make the web that couplehood sticks us to, what new information—truth, fact, realty—means in that web is where we're meant to focus. At times the quotidian world intrudes and distracts, or is allowed to intrude and distract. The attentive reader will notice register shifts in Author Dinan's prose from pleasantly descriptive to nearly florid at those moments. I'm assuming food is a comfort drug to Max and her found family....

Where do we end up in this web? In it. I read the book assuming I'd reach a conclusion to some of those issues raised above. I do not think quite a few people will find the openness of the ending, the real lack of closure for Max and, to a lesser degree of investment, Vincent, to be satisfying. I took a star off because I was not given a sense that, by the end, Max had any kind or sort of response, still less plan, to all she's learned. We simply...leave the story, trailing web-strands of it behind us.

Not a perfect read, then, but one I very much enjoyed. More from you soon, please, Author Dinan!

"No person is fewer than two things."
Happy Pub Day to a novel that had me hoping the author had a much longer back catalogue. This dual timeline book featured sizzling internal commentary from Max, a trans woman trying to find love and a purpose in the midst of her unfulfilling half-AI-managed job. This alternates with a decade-old story of Max's love interest, Vincent, as he goes on a gap year, soul-searching adventure in Thailand. The character development is phenomenal, and you'll be left up until the end wondering how everything is going to turn out between Max and Vincent, and if Max's head injury holds any significance to the plot. Many thanks to NetGalley for an eARC.

Learning to accept yourself, and others, for who you really are is a complicated process. And do certain decisions make you less than? I really enjoyed this novel of love, possible domesticity, and the ramifications of forgiveness. Max is a thoughtful, interesting character.

"You can fall in love with an outline, you can even make a home with one, but there will come a time where you can’t deny the bones their flesh. A person is no fewer than two things.

Thirty years old with a lifetime of dysphoria and irritating exes rattling around in her head, Max is plagued by a deep dissatisfaction. Shouldn’t these be the best years of her life? Why doesn’t it feel that way? After taking a spill down the stairs at a New Year’s Eve party, she decides to make some changes. First: a stab at good old-fashioned heteronormativity.

Max thinks she’s found the answer in Vincent. While his corporate colleagues, trad friends, and Chinese parents never pictured their son dating a trans woman, he cares for Max in a way she’d always dismissed as a foolish fantasy. But he is also carrying baggage of his own. When the fall-out of a decades-old entanglement resurfaces, Max must decide what forgiveness really means. Can we be more than our worst mistakes? Is it possible to make peace with the past?"

Thanks to NetGalley and Random House/The Dial Press for the free ARC in exchange for my honest review. All opinions expressed herein are my own.

"A person is no fewer than two things." wow, i could not put this one down. the prose was so dreamy i felt like i was under a spell, while simultaneously being so witty and poignant. Dinan is a master observer, and even more masterful in her ability to showcase the mental flow of working through things in times of crises but also just in the flow of life. There is so much packed into this book at only 320 pages. the use of two timelines and two POVs was executed brilliantly and really knit the story together. my chest hurt after reading this (a telltale sign that i have been ~moved~.) Dinan explores the dualities and general complicatedness of life; life at it's bones is already complex, what complexities come with different cultures? families? gender identities? just really digging into the layers of life and how multiple things and feelings can be true all at once. incredibly human. i loved this.

some quotes i loved:

"If you really want to understand something, especially something human, you can."
"I know it feels like precision, telepathy, but i really know its because we're all just the same, living life in different colors."
"It's easy to forget our roles in the theatre of other people's minds."

THANK YOU to The Dial Press & netlgalley for this eARC in exchange for an honest review :)

I’m not truly sure what to say or how to fully describe the feelings that came with this book.

People are so complicated, yet they aren’t at the same time.

This book is important and I’m sure I’ll be recommending this to many.

30 year old Max is intelligent, a quarter Chinese and trans. She is also successful, at least on paper, working as an admittedly over-compensated lawyer for a tech firm with enough free time to write poetry. But her day-job is soul-crushing, her published book received only mild support and she had an ugly breakup with her boyfriend, Arthur, leaving her feeling adrift. After waking up alone in a hospital the morning after a New Year’s Eve party, she decides to have a go at heteronormativity: “I am aware that there was a shift — sometime after Arthur — when I stopped caring about flutters and cared more for caring, for feeling like a priority. When I stopped questioning if I found people hot and thought more about whether they were nice. When things stopped being about what someone was, who their friends were, what they did for work, and more about how they were.”

Max matches with Vincent Chan on a dating app. Over a sushi dinner, the pair bond over their shared Chinese heritage and corporate legal backgrounds. To her surprise, Max finds herself attracted to Vincent and envisions something meaningful growing between them. Her mother had repeatedly told her that she should date a Chinese man because they are dependable and hard-working. As the relationship proceeds, Vincent seems kind and thoughtful and appears to love Max, although he does have difficulty navigating a trans girlfriend. He says things that Max finds inappropriate, such as “It’s kind of hard to believe you’re trans sometimes.” He doesn’t ask about the details of “trans things,” although he has asked the basics, “when I knew, how long I’d been on hormones. . . .”

There are other issues bubbling to the surface. Vincent’s mother expects him to have children, lading him with brochures for surrogacy services after he tells her about Max. Worse, seemingly evolved Vincent will be revealed as a less than ideal partner when we learn about a pivotal gap year trip he took to Thailand in 2012. Max has set herself up, like the novel’s title, to be disappointed.

Dinan’s meticulous observations of modern relationships left me with a new-found empathy for young millennials and Gen Zs. There are lots of laugh inducing one-liners, including Vincent’s frequent references to “Detransition, Baby.” The novel offers insight into what it is to be trans. Dinan presents thought-provoking riffs on gender, race and identity. Thank you Dial Press and Net Galley for this contemporary romance.

I continue to be impressed by the depth that Dinan gives the characters in her novels. This was a funny, heart-wrenching, and thoughtful look into the loves of two characters (Max and Vincent) and the lives they live together and apart.

“Well, I suppose it’s hard to know whether we judge people for who they are now, or for who they once were.”

How does one not judge someone by the sins of their past? I think we have to fight with all of our might to be open-minded to allow the concepts of growth and change to replace the preconceived judgments we harbor deep down. It is not an effortless task. I don’t think it is easy for anyone, no matter who they are, or what they believe in. I think trust is at the forefront of helping to determine judgments, at least with those we are close with and have a relationship with - whether it be family, friends or significant others. If trust has been broken by transgressions of the past, I feel the bias will take root and lie in hiding, waiting for it’s chance to come to the surface and pronounce judgment, “They did it before, they will do it again, and look, they didn’t care last time and they won’t this time.” This is somewhat hypothetical of course. I’m using a personal anecdote here of a previous boyfriend who has various addiction obstacles he faces. How do you separate the trust from the judgment?

I can only imagine for a trans person that it is very difficult to trust, but I think that Max (Maxine, Maxy) in Disappoint Me is able to easily. Not to a point where she is naive, but in a healthy way. She trusts her close friend Simone, her new boyfriend Vincent, and her family. Max does worry a lot - about life, about things from her past, about her job, and about her flailing writing career. Although we hear all of Max’s concerns, she does not come off as obsessive, or neurotic, or as a cynic. I think she is a very well-rounded character.

Disappoint Me follows the lives of Max and her new boyfriend Vincent. The story is told via Max or Vincent in the present tense (they are in their early thirties in present tense), and then a few chapters of Vincent from when he was a 19 year old on his gap year while traveling. I felt the flow was skillful; it proceeded in a seamless manner and was not disjointed or hard to follow. Max can be a bit acidic at points in her inner musings, but isn’t everyone? We all have doubts about life and love and Max is no exception.

I enjoyed this book. I didn’t love love it, but it was a solid 4 stars. The writing is neat and meticulous, and I found myself highlighting various passages that struck me as “vibe moments” - where something resonates with my inner chi, speaking to me in a life-altering way. It’s really what I look for now when I read. Yes, I read some books for fun, but more I’m looking for that existential, philosophical, meaning-to-life type of wisdom now. I saw some of that in this book and I liked it.

This book was a more gentle involvement in the world of trans culture - I have read some that are very hardcore with terminology and lifestyle, and I felt that this was not that. I felt that it was just part of the story, not ALL of the story. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves the complications, the ups/downs and the tender moments of relationships large and small. You won’t be disappointed.

Conan writes her characters with an incredible depth. Disappoint Me is a case study on what it means to live within and outside of societal norms at the same time. This exploration of queer and trans identities and our relationships to each other is a must read.

Dinan shows you a complex world where the reader has to come to terms with a type of forgiveness that doesn’t ignore the wrong-doing but letting it go. Time may heal all wounds as they say but as we see, some still come to head even years later. Phenomenal emotionality with all the characters, sometimes you hate them because you see yourself in them, you see what it is to be human and make mistakes.

While I haven't read Bellies, I feel like I must be the last person on Earth still able to make that claim because, I have heard SO much about it. I was so excited for the chance to read Disappoint Me, Dinan's sophomore offering and it the premise really delivered. Disappoint Me is a story about the complicated nature of our thirties and how we are still being shaped into who we are. A great, contemplative story for modern adulthood.