This book—while being a mystery—is an exploration into the marginalization of women. Specifically, the women of First Nations people who daily experience the “Us vs. Them” mentality of living within and near the white people who have the power. The Indigenous specific racism drives the discrimination, racist misogyny, and violence that First Nations women experience. Assumed to be alcohol and drug dependent prostitutes, they are diminished to a status where its acceptable to perpetrate social, judicial, and physical abuse.

Jenny—by her own words--is white trash. Lonely and alone, she is desperate for a child of her own. She lives with her mostly absent husband, works part-time, and babysits the neglected children of her mom’s latest boyfriend. She’d like to approach her neighbor of five years, Rochelle, to set up a play date for the children she babysits, and Rochelle’s daughters. However, Jenny is a product of her racist upbringing, and Rochelle is a First Nations woman. By the time Jenny is ready to approach Rochelle, the young mother has disappeared; left behind are her daughters. Knowing Rochelle would never abandon her children, she reports her missing to the police who promptly ignore her. At the same time, a white girl goes missing which garners widespread reporting and searches. The hypocrisy does not go unnoticed.

This is a mystery with a social conscience. It is filled with obtuse characters spewing racial rhetoric. It should be an eye opener to one’s own beliefs. However, the lack of Indigenous, main characters is a problem for me; it is their story after all. Many First Nations women have gone missing and/or murdered along the Highway of Tears (a name given to a stretch of highway that goes through the book’s setting), and it is this that our author chose to be the center her (Jenny’s) story. I see why Rochelle would go missing, but I wish there was more development of her as a person beyond being a plot device. She—and her community—deserve more. This would also give more weight to the lengths Jenny goes to to find her. It would also go far in humanizing Rochelle.

Why is the book called Fireweed? Fireweed is a flowering perennial native to the northern hemisphere that grows well in areas that have been devastated by fire. Due to its underground root growth, one plant can cover a large area of land. The plant is an apt metaphor for First Nation’s women: they thrive in even the worst situations, are often thought to be invasive, and their value—like the roots—is unseen.

I would like to thank Astra House and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this novel.

The author of Fireweed described her motivation for writing the novel as a response to the “injustice of it all”—the systemic racism, corruption within the RCMP, and ingrained prejudice against Indigenous people in the North. Haddad wanted to “lift a mirror to both our fascination with missing women and girls and the ways in which we can (often unwittingly) use the injustices faced by marginalised communities to confirm our own goodness.” Through her protagonist, Jenny, she interrogates her investigative motivations—do they really come from a desire to “do good,” or from a self-preoccupation to centre herself and prove her own blamelessness?

If we read Fireweed with this in mind, then maybe it is easier to see what Haddad is trying to achieve. However, I agree with other readers who argue that she was not the right person to tell this story. She admits she had never visited the city where the novel is set before she started writing, has no Indigenous background, and no firsthand experience with First Nations communities. As a result, her attempt to expose injustice ultimately comes across as misinformed and, paradoxically, perpetuates the very harm she set out to critique.

The novel employs harmful stereotypes to depict Jenny’s and other characters’ views of Indigenous people. Rather than interrogating and deconstructing these biases, Haddad leaves them unchallenged, using them as explanations for Indigenous characters’ behaviours. Even as Jenny grows to like her Native neighbour, Rachelle, it is glaringly obvious that the things she likes about Rachelle are the ways she assimilates to Eurocentric Canadian culture, the ways in which she is not like “them” but more like Jenny, something Jenny can recognise and feel comfortable with, reinforcing the oppressive idea that Indigenous identity must be erased or diluted to be accepted.

Worse still, the suffering of Indigenous women in the novel serves only as a backdrop for Jenny’s personal struggles. The novel centers a white woman’s perspective, sidelining the larger systemic crisis of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG) and the horrors of the Highway of Tears. These tragedies become secondary to Jenny’s journey of personal growth, a journey that ultimately leads nowhere. By the novel’s end, Jenny does a complete reversal, returning to her life with little regard for the injustices she was once so indignant about, the fates of Rachelle and the other victims mostly forgotten or, for want of a better word, ignored. This perfectly illustrates how white privileged voices dominate discourse surrounding marginalised groups—picking up their plights simply to discard them when a better distraction comes along.

The novel does not offer justice or a meaningful resolution for Rachelle or the other Indigenous women who continue to suffer under this corrupt system.
Jenny’s investigation is exposed for what it truly is: a search for herself, as she wrongly places herself at the centre of a tragedy that does not belong to her.

I understand that Haddad’s intent was to use Jenny as a way to expose how white privilege often dominates discussions about marginalized communities. However, in writing this book, she unwittingly commits the same mistake—centering her own perspective rather than amplifying Indigenous voices.

What we truly need are more books written by Indigenous authors—stories that authentically portray the ongoing discrimination, violence, and injustices their communities endure. Until then, literature that attempts to speak for them from a detached, privileged perspective risks doing more harm than good.

Thank you to NetGalley and Astra Publishing House for the ARC.

I did not finish this, but had high hopes. Couldn’t get past the flaws of the main character which seem to hold her back so strongly.

A debut fiction novel, Fireweed (2025) by Lauren Haddad is based on actual historical events and the tragic murder and disappeared of indigenous women and girls in Canada. Jenny Hayes is neighbours with Rachelle and her two daughters in Prince George, Canada. When Rachelle is the second women to disappear whilst on Highway 16, Jenny decides to investigate. An all too slowly unfolding tale, which fails to deliver on the potentially poignant fictionalising story of the real-life British Columbia ‘highway of tears’ - where too many indigenous women and girls were murdered or disappeared. Unfortunately, the characters were somewhat one dimensional and the story lacked real substance, making it a disheartening one star read rating. As always, the opinions herein are totally my own and freely given. With thanks to Astra Publishing House and the author, for an uncorrected advanced review copy for review purposes.

I honestly don't feel entirely comfortable reviewing this, as I don't think the book's thesis landed for me (for a variety of reasons). The reality & horror of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women is a worthy cause for attention and action, but I don't know that this book was intentional in drawing that? I don't know, I'm sorry that I can't be more articulate; primarily I'm trying to choose my words carefully. Just not sure who this is for/what it's serving. I'm giving three stars because I don't think it's fair for me to judge anything beyond neutral here. I also won't be publishing this review outside of NetGalley.

Many thanks for the ARC!

Interesting read. This definitely wasn’t my favorite - the writing was confusing, characters lacked depth, and the research part was really missed. I don’t see the comparison to Tana French either. I know this is labeled as being something thriller readers would like, but it missed the mark for me (a thriller reader).

Thank you to the author and publisher for the arc in exchange for an honest review. Three solid stars for effort: Jenny is a white woman who entangles herself in the sudden disappearance of her indigenous neighbor. But what starts ostensibly as a mystery meanders into a meditation on identity and a (white) main character’s half-baked racial reckoning.

In Lauren Haddad's "Fireweed," the narrative centers around Jenny, a lower-class white woman who resides adjacent to Rochelle, an indigenous individual, in a shared community. Raised with the belief that she is superior, Jenny initially judges Rochelle based on the condition of her garbage-strewn yard. The story commences with the mysterious disappearance of a white woman, prompting an extensive search and the offering of a reward. As Jenny, who spends significant time managing her household responsibilities, gradually cultivates a friendship with Rochelle, events take a serious turn when Rochelle goes missing. Despite Jenny's efforts to report this to the authorities, her concerns are dismissed and trivialized.

While certain aspects of the writing may present challenges in clarity, the overarching message resonates profoundly. Both Jenny and Rochelle illustrate the impacts of societal expectations and class distinctions. This theme is poignantly highlighted when Jenny, in her capacity as a white woman, attempts to alert the police about Rochelle's disappearance but faces pushback and inaction. The narrative serves as a commentary on a persistent class system, emphasizing the difficulties in recognizing the shared humanity that exists between individuals from different socio-economic backgrounds.

This book is a gut-punch in the best way — haunting, raw, and deeply intimate. Would recommend!! 4.5/5

I really enjoyed this debut and, while I was disappointed that the overall Goodreads community has rejected it (less than 3 star overall rating right now), I can see why - there are some themes that can put off some readers.

In this debut novel, Jenny is a lower class white woman who has lived next to Rachelle, an Indigenous woman, for the past five years. Through her mother and society, Jenny has learned that she’s better than Indigenous people, so many of her thoughts are blatantly racist. In other words, she comes across as very ignorant to today’s reader (i.e., not likeable at all). Jenny hasn’t spoken to Rachelle, and most of her thoughts about Rachelle include judgment about the state of her yard (based on her being Indigenous, which I hadn’t even heard of that stereotype). When she finally meets Rachelle and her two daughters, Jenny’s eyes are opened.

At the beginning of the novel, a white woman named Beth disappears, and there’s a full investigation. When Rachelle disappears, a now-invested Jenny tries to get the local police force to investigate, and she runs into a different philosophy towards missing Indigenous women.

This is essentially a coming-of-age story, as Jenny’s real-life experiences force her to confront her stereotypes and thoughts.

Jenny has a lot of time on her hands, as her main job is keeping up the house (her husband is gone a lot for work), she doesn’t have kids although wants them, and she has a very part-time job. I wonder how this novel would have changed had Jenny been busy with her life and didn’t have time to think all day.

➕ The story was really engaging to me. I am fond of first-person narration. I do think many of us grew up with this type of racism (maybe towards other racial groups, depending on where you live), and I think it takes courage for an author to write a racist white main character in this day and age.
➕ Jenny truly has a growth trajectory or coming of age throughout the novel.
➕ Once I adjusted to the writing style, I really liked it.

➖ As I mentioned before, Jenny is unlikeable at the beginning, and I think her reception would be better if she wasn’t SO racist initially. You really don’t see any nuance to Jenny until she takes care of her mother’s boyfriend’s children, and even then it might be too little, too late for some readers. Do you know how a middle grade book tends to hit you over the head with themes? This book is kind of like that but with adult themes.

➖ The writing style tended toward stream of consciousness, and it felt uneven at the beginning of the book, which could also deter some readers. I’m not sure if the first 10-20 pages were recently rewritten because they felt far more lyrical (almost poetic) than the rest of the book. Or I could have needed some time to adjust.

Thank you to NetGalley and Astra House for an Advance Reader Copy in exchange for an unbiased review.

It publishes April 29, 2025.

I could not get into this book. I found the writing somewhat confusing and repetitive in general, and the characters were incredibly one-dimensional. Especially due to the content of the book, I felt like this could have used a lot more care and research in relation to how it handles talking about indigenous people.

An interesting and suspenseful read. I really enjoyed the characters, they were written so well. I would recommend if the description interests you.

Beautiful cover, compelling concept - frustrating delivery. Couldn't tell if it was acculturation or appropriation, but Lauren didn't feel like the right person to tell this story.

Jenny, our main character, is a bored and lonely housewife. Her neighbor, a First Nations woman, turns up missing, leaving her children behind. This calls into question many issues, such as what happened to her and, more importantly, why does no one, including the authorities seem too concerned? Fireweed explores the reality of missing women and the often-ignored experiences of the Indigenous in the context of more privileged feminism. It delves into the challenges faced when confronted by systemic obstacles. I do understand many other reviewers had issues with the racist and stereotypical references in this story. I just want to put out there that it perhaps was the intention? I don't think we are supposed to like Jenny. She is supposed to be ignorant and very one dimensional. I am of Indigenous heritage and very much could identify and relate with some of the more racial elements used in this book, and not in a good way. Thank you to Astra Publishing and NetGalley for the ARC. This book publishes April 29, 2025.

Fireweed by Lauren Haddad is a compelling and thought-provoking novel that offers an exploration of race, class, and gender through the lens of a flawed but complex protagonist, Jenny Hayes. The story revolves around Jenny's investigation into the mysterious disappearance of her neighbor, Rachelle, and the complicated dynamics of missing women along the "Highway of Tears" in Northern British Columbia.

While the book is gripping in its portrayal of Jenny’s struggle with self-preoccupation and the complexity of good intentions, it occasionally feels heavy-handed in its messaging. The narrative, though rich with detail, sometimes veers too much into introspective analysis, which can slow the pace. Jenny’s character, despite her well-meaning actions, is frustrating at times due to her limited understanding of the very community she tries to “help.” The exploration of privilege and colonialism is effective, yet it leaves readers questioning their own responses to stories of marginalized groups.

The novel’s atmosphere is haunting and immersive, offering a raw look at the harsh realities of life in this industrial part of Canada. The themes of systemic oppression and the well-intentioned but flawed responses to these injustices are poignant and necessary, though they may leave readers uncomfortable with the reflection they provide.

Overall, Fireweed succeeds in addressing vital social issues but may not be for everyone due to its sometimes slow pace and introspective tone. However, for readers who enjoy socially conscious fiction that challenges perspectives and evokes deep reflection, this book is a strong and important read. A solid 3.5 stars.

I have mixed feelings about this one, which I think others will as well, which makes for a intriguing book. The writing style was fine, but it was hard to get totally on board with the plot and intentions of the characters, as others have mentioned.

I requested a review copy of Fireweed as its premise sounded unique and I was interested to read mystery/thriller from such a perspective.

The reality of this novel was very different from how it is being marketed. I was shocked and saddened by the prolific use of degrading slurs included within the text. I understand the author was trying to convey the prejudice faced the character of Rachelle, however the number of these references was completely unnecessary. I was hoping to read a novel where a white character understands the complexity of the situation however, I didn’t feel this was the case.

I found the stream of consciousness style was not done well - it was very difficult to follow at times and ultimately negatively affected my enjoyment of reading.

I went in to this book with high hopes, unfortunately they were not realised. I do however like the cover.

It has been a while since I have regularly thought about a book I’ve read months after reading it, but this was one of my top books of 2024.

It has the feel of a Gillian Flynn book where you want to just shake the main character out of completely blowing up their life, but knowing that even that would not stop them from the runaway train of a life that they continue to lead. The story is quite simple, but the world building is very realistic for small-town anywhere. I am sure there are bits of Canadian culture that I did not understand, but felt transported into rural everywhere by the story,

I found the arc of Jenny to be very interesting. She is the epitome of a white-savior who only begins to care about the plight of others when it is literally in her backyard. She allows her need for answers (of which she is not entitled to) to overshadow any and all indigenous individuals that she comes across and continuously centers herself as the most important character in her journey. As is pointed out in other reviews, the story of the missing and murdered women becomes a tertiary plot point in within the story. This feels very deliberate as it is reflective of how non-white folks are treated in North America. Jenny feels like a reflection of the attention span of news media and community efforts for non-white folks throughout the country.

I will definitely be buying a hardcopy of this book from my local bookstore.

🛍️ARC from NetGalley

Thanks to netgalley and the publisher for the Arc of Fireweed in exchange for an honest review!

I'm very torn on my rating for this book. I think fireweed is well written and the atmosphere is executed very well: the book is monotone and oppressive, just like the main character's life. I was on edge a lot of the time and actually had to put the book down on certain scenes because I couldn't deal with them. So writing-wise, this is between 4 and 5 stars for me.

However. I am a white, European woman with basic knowledge on first nations people and their struggles in Canada, and I can't help but feel like I am exactly the target audience for this book. That started bothering me towards the end. The main character is a white woman. The people she surrounds herself with are white. The indigenous people - the disappeared women she comes into contact with - are part of /her/ story. This book is mostly about her learning the truth behind her own prejudices against native people. The stories of the highway of tears are mostly a way to make that happen. Her character arc gets a (slightly unsatisfactory) end. Other's do not.

I personally didn't know a lot about the highway of tears. This book has made me want to learn more about it. I also connected with the books message about women's issues, sexism and sexual violence in general. That's good, but it's also something that i can appreciate because of my whiteness. I'm privileged to not know these stories and experiences firsthand. I realised more and more how frustrating this book must be to read as a woman of colour. It kind of felt like a 'care about people of colour 101' course. Wait, the police cares less when a woman of colour goes missing, really?! That realisation may be groundbreaking to the main character, but it shouldn't be to readers at this point.

I don't think it's impossible to tell this story from a white person's point of view, and like I said - this book might speak to other white people and help them challenge their own stereotypes, ignorance and prejudices. But the characters of colour need more agency. At the end of the day, it is mostly their pain and experiences that are the heart of this story, and yet the only person who's character arc is fulfilled is the white main character.

This unfortunately ended up being a DNF for me around the 25% mark. While I think the concept Haddad presented was an intriguing one, I felt it wasn't executed well.