DNF - This book requires very serious intervention on the part of an editor & a sensitivity writer. The author seems to be totally, & intentionally, ignorant of an entire group of people who have experienced atrocious violence. This book is an absolute crapshoot of a story, with poor writing, racial slurs for the sake of using racial slurs, & is doused in an ignorance no poorly ploted story could make relevant. It's abysmally disheartening to see such a book be published. Both the author & the publishing house need to do better..

DNF at 32%!

Lauren Haddad’s *Fireweed* is a powerful, thought-provoking novel set in the industrial north of Prince George, Canada, where simmering tension unearths complex questions of privilege, cultural bias, and the ethics of intervention. Through the character of Jenny Hayes—a suburban housewife yearning for a child—Haddad tackles nuanced and uncomfortable themes, shedding light on the chasms that separate communities in a seemingly ordinary neighborhood.

The story begins with Jenny’s resentment and envy of her First Nations neighbor, Rachelle, who appears to neglect what Jenny desires most: a family. Jenny’s frustration and judgment are juxtaposed with her uneasy friendships and her own mother’s indifference, painting a picture of a woman whose sense of purpose is tied to her own preconceived notions of right and wrong. Haddad subtly critiques Jenny’s well-meaning but misguided attempts to "help," which reveal a more profound moral conflict when Rachelle goes missing.

As the novel unfolds, Jenny embarks on an amateur investigation to find Rachelle, navigating the complexities of racial and social divides. The narrative highlights the disturbing discrepancy in media coverage between Rachelle and another missing woman, Beth Tremblay, underlining the systemic inequities that render certain lives more visible than others. Jenny’s interactions with the Métis community bring to light her inherent biases, often making her character hard to sympathize with—a challenge that some readers may find polarizing.

Pros:
One of *Fireweed*'s strengths is its cast of diverse characters who bring varied cultural and social perspectives into focus. Haddad’s portrayal of Jenny’s inner conflict is insightful, making readers question whether well-intentioned actions can, in fact, exacerbate harm.

Cons:
However, the novel’s slow build-up may challenge some readers' patience, and certain scenes and character interactions feel disjointed, occasionally detracting from the flow. Jenny, as the main character, is difficult to fully connect with, which may make it hard for readers to remain fully engaged with the story.

The good:
Gorgeous cover
Characters are well drawn
Deceptions are vivid
Ecological elements are lovely

The bad:
Tooo much detail on the mundane
Jenny was okay but everyone else was unlikable or just stereotypical projections in Jenny’s head
All the men are horrible or worse
All the women victims

The vivid, wild setting and the looming threat of an unreliable narrator make this a gripping read that’s tough to put down. Each page builds suspense, pulling you deeper into its mysteries.

This a fiery and passionate novel about family, love, and the complexities of identity. It's a powerful and moving story that will stay with you long after you've finished reading.

A white woman proceeds on a "misguided investigation" and that premise leads the reader on a pointless journey to what end? An epilogue that provides "faith" that all will turn out right for misguided, privileged white women?

I enjoyed this book. It starts out with a strong mystery, and the small town is almost its own character. The main character learns about her family's past and really begins to understand how it shapes her perceptions of the world. She, and everyone else in her universe, are pretty small-minded, and I think the recognition of her own biases was realistic and honest.

For me, this book should have been either a little longer or done a little less. The beginning is slower paced and very atmospheric, but the end was a little rushed. It transformed from a mystery to a more literary novel, and none of the major issues that drove the main character really get resolved at the end. I did really enjoy the way this book was written, and I think it's a nice exploration of the societal struggles of being a woman, and grappling with the idea that what you think you know is wrong.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC of this!

I won’t say I struggled to finish this, I was invested in seeing the end so that kept me pulled in. That said, I definitely have some feelings about this book and not all of them are positive.

First: what a depressing scene the author sets of PG, I’m sure it’s accurate for the late 90s/early 2000s. Very good world building and the little details help flesh the settings out. I didn’t dislike Jenny so much as I pitied her; I couldn’t stand everyone else in her life. Her mom sucks, her husband sucks, her friends suck. I feel like she was a pretty well-built character, and I did like her more by the end. She did learn something I guess by the end and ended up a little less ignorant than her friends? But the end was a little unsatisfying.

I feel like this is being advertised as a book about missing and murdered indigenous women, and throughout the story we did see Jenny learn and come to some more understanding about the native people that live around her. However, this should not be marketed as a book about missing and murdered and indigenous women, as Rachelle was basically just a side quest in this. We got zero resolution of that issue. This really isn’t a thriller and I hope it isn’t being marketed as such. This is very white lady centered and even though Jenny did meet some indigenous folks toward the end I don’t even know what the purpose of introducing those characters was since there was no further interaction or impact i really saw.

Some parts of this felt like tedious stream of consciousness writing, normally I don’t skim over stuff like that, but there were definitely some paragraphs I kind of had to skim. A few places I didn’t really know what was being talked about? Easy enough to pick back up, but still annoying.

Overall, it was not a bad read, but it was not really a great read. I wouldn’t really say that it accomplished drawing attention to missing and murdered indigenous women in Canada. I am sure there are books that are better representative of this horrifying issue.

This started off hard to read. Jenny’s thoughts are a bit scattered and I had trouble following her character. But then things fell into rhythm. Jenny is not shy to let the reader know what the white people in the community think of the natives. But then she befriends her neighbor, that then disappears (along with plenty of other unreported natives). She takes it upon herself to be the savior, getting shut down multiple times, all while battling infertility, emotional and physical abuse.

My rating was looking up until the last portion of the book. The ending just missed the mark. What had the potential to wrap up more about the missing women and children was left to a single page while we got a epilogue on Jenny covering several years and little substance. But perhaps that is the message after all? The people of color always get forgotten.

A subversion of a missing woman plot that follows a white housewife’s misguided investigation into the disappearance of her missing indigenous neighbor. The main idea of the story was good but the plot and the ending were unsatisfying.

So so so good! Definitely agree with the comparison to Tana French. The ending felt a bit abrupt but I was okay with it given the overall themes of the book. Thank you Netgalley for the ARC and I will definitely be following this author on Goodreads!

Thanks to Astra House and NetGalley for this ARC of Fireweed by Lauren Haddad.

I'm conflicted about this one. The ongoing tragedy and outrage of murder missing indigenous women and girls is something that should be aired as often as possible but this felt very awkward in that the missing women and girls seemed to be a prop for the story of the young white woman who's the main character. Maybe that's the realistic way things are and maybe that's why it's told that way. Maybe most of us care about it but then get on with our lives having done very little to change things?

One thing that it does get right and hammers mercilessly is the contrast between the attention given by the authorities and the media to the blond white woman - Beth - who disappears and that of the young Native women but we know this already and it's not very subtle here.

Another thing that felt genuine, though I've never visited remote British Colombia so can't really say for sure, is the blatant and unrelenting racism against Native people where even talking to an Indigenous neighbor was cause for marital strife. Maybe that's what the author was trying to expose?

Although the time when the book is set - sometime pre-mobile phones - is the explanation, it seems unlikely that even if they're remote the term 'Metis' would be unknown to the people of the town or that - even if they didn't care about it - the forced taking of children from their homes and the residential schools and 'foster homes' would be unknow. All felt unrealistic.

There was an odd sense of a happy ever after for the main character which, again, is maybe what happens in actuality but felt inappropriate.

Fireweed follows Jenny, a bored and lonely white housewife, and her clumsy investigation into the disappearance of her Indigenous neighbour, Rachelle.

I really wanted to love this one but I’m conflicted about the author’s decision to focus on MMIWG through the perspective of a deeply ignorant white character.

Besides this, I found myself needlessly confused at some of the details. For example, there were two side characters with the same name and inconsistencies with the location of Rachelle’s house in relation to Jenny’s.

Overall, there were some suspenseful and gripping moments and the premise is really interesting. With that being said, the execution needs some refining.

Thank you NetGalley and Astra Publishing House for providing me with this ARC.

I was looking forward to reading this book, but it fell a little short for me. The premise was great because this is such an issue, but I couldn't connect to the characters and the ending was a bit of a letdown.

Thank you for the opportunity to read it.

I requested this book because I thought it would be a nuanced and novel take on white privilege and ignorance of BIPOC communities, in this case, First Nations peoples specifically. However, what I found was another white voice using POC to tell their own story.

I will not give you a summary because I think you can find that anywhere else. I will start by saying the writing is not bad, some issues with keeping track of thoughts and feelings because the FMC reveals information after the fact sometimes. However, the writing is of no importance when the content is so problematic. This could’ve been written by a Pulitzer-winning author and I would not support it.

I always do my best to give the story/author the benefit of the doubt, that certain details are included is for advocacy or to prove some sort of point. The blatant racism, the misconceptions of indigenous peoples, and the stereotypes were obviously used to describe the community and the issues surrounding the FMCs surroundings. That did not bother me. What did bother me was that this seemed to be a character exploration of our white FMC and it used a very REAL very SENSITIVE topic that is NOT about white people/women. This feels like we are building on the backs of indigenous people’s pain…as usual.

To me, focusing on a white woman's perspective about her misguided attempts and her melancholy life feels completely disconnected from the realities faced by Indigenous peoples. This narrative prioritizes white women with a critical systemic issue as a backdrop. The book barely addresses the injustices and history Indigenous peoples have faced in North America (and all of the Americas) favoring the protagonist instead. I noticed another review pointed out that this is set to release a week before National Day of Recognition for Missing or Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls, and Two-Spirit People (MMIWG2S) and that feels extra yucky.

I do not think we should avoid writing stories about other communities but I DO think it is very difficult to do so properly and respectfully, which is why I suggest you don’t write anything you are not fully versed in.

I requested an ARC of Fireweed hoping it would be a voice for the Indigenous community mixed with suspense, but unfortunately, it didn’t hit the mark. Before starting, I read a post from the publisher saying that the author, with great awareness, exposes the damage caused when we prioritize our own value system over others—but after finishing the book, I’m not quite sure that is what got delivered.

I get what the author was trying to do, but something didn’t click. The story felt like it was a character study about someone dwelling on past failures and trying to make up for them, instead of focusing on the larger systemic issues. I can't say we need books told from the perspective of someone removed from the real problem.

The audience for this book is a bit of a puzzle too. It's marketed as a read for fans of Tana French, but I didn’t see how a thriller fan would enjoy it. On the other hand, even someone looking for a thought-provoking take on social issues might find it frustrating, especially since the main character is so painfully uninformed that it’s hard to engage with.

Reflecting on the book, it gave me “white savior” vibes. It also leaned into some very distant and naive stereotypes, like suggesting Indigenous people wouldn’t know how to garden. Instead of diving deep into the real, systemic problems impacting Indigenous communities, the story spends too much time on the struggles of the lead, a white woman. What we need are more books focused on the injustices these communities face, along with real steps for making change, not ones centered on white guilt.

The timing of the book’s release, set for April 29, 2025, feels off to me too. It’s just a week before the National Day of Recognition for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, and it comes across as an attempt to capitalize on that important topic. I cannot wholeheartedly say that this book will contribute to the topic at hand.

On top of all that, the writing was hard to follow. It felt disjointed, more like a stream of consciousness or a rough draft than a finished novel. While I do appreciate books that aim to raise awareness about the crimes against Indigenous women and the failures of law enforcement, Fireweed just didn’t come together the way it needed to. I trust that the author had pure intentions, but perhaps got a bit lost along the way.

Thanks to NetGalley and Astra Publishing House for the ARC.

This is a whirlwind of a story taking place in Canada, where the industry is mining and paper production from trees. Life here can be uneasy. A young couple living here and struggling to make ends meet (she works in retail, he works in the mines) is suddenly confronted with an unimaginable event: Their neighbor, a single mom who is a native, has gone missing. Her children have been left behind. But is she really missing? And, do the neighbors or police even seem concerned? The descriptions of the rugged landscape (including fireweed plants), the reports of other missing persons, and the possibility of an unreliable narrator set up a story that feels ready to combust with tension and suspense. I kept returning to this eerie place and wondering what would happen next!

I wanted to like this book but was sort of disappointed! I'm left confused on who the audience is supposed to be. It's not for thrill-seekers, because the "missing person" plot is tangential to the main story, and because we never get resolution on it. It's not for the "woke" crowd because the main character is mind-bogglingly naive and uneducated, even more so than any average white citizen. It felt painful to get through the tedious writing and then unsatisfying by the end when the reader has invested so much time in hopes of a redemption arc or big finale.

I appreciated the character development and I do think some of the chapters are quite interesting. But overall, I did not look forward to pulling this book out to read every night, and that's why I wouldn't know who to recommend it to.

Fireweed follows a bored housewife named Jenny living in rural British Columbia. A young girl's disappearance sparks outrage in the news, and Jenny finds herself seeking companionship in her neighbor, an Indigenous woman named Rachelle with two young daughters. But when Rachelle herself goes missing right after the two women start to become friends, Jenny finds herself trying to discover what happened to her.

This book shines in its descriptions. The town of PG feels closer to a character than a setting; every plant, road, house, etc. is described in detail, but not in a way that feels tedious. Illustrations of everyday life are drawn out realistically and thoughtfully. However, the plot is a bit less meticulous, which I think is a fault of this novel. There are too many elements being juggled at once; Jenny's infertility, her relationship with her mother, the missing girls, Rachelle, her friends, her husband, her missing father. There is also a large cast of characters with similar jobs and names that I found hard to keep track of at times. An anecdote about one person is being told, and then suddenly the protagonist is talking with a completely different person without a clear segue. If the story had chosen a route, like focusing specifically on Jenny's struggle with motherhood and her trauma of being raised by an emotionally abusive mother, it could've been a lot stronger with its message. However, the mix between literary fiction and thriller doesn't totally work with all the elements involved. I felt as if I got an outside look of Indigenous people, but I don't feel as if the reader comes away learning much about their culture, besides Jenny's white woman view of it. And that could be the point, but personally I found that frustrating.

Jenny as a protagonist is also rather insufferable. She can't do anything right, doesn't speak up for herself, and waits too long to take action. There's also a slight element of an unreliable narrator, with Jenny's hallucinations of seeing Rachelle in public spaces and even deluding herself into thinking that she's half Native. This part felt like it wasn't fully committed to, so instead it just feels like Jenny being ridiculous for no reason. I think a lot of parts of the plot were not fully committed to, so at the conclusion of the story it feels a bit pointless to go on that entire journey for nothing to come of it. Every character's growth happened off page with a throwaway line in the epilogue. Jenny has no growth except maybe becoming slightly less racist, but that's not clear either. I understand the message is that the white woman gets her happy ending while the Native people continue suffering, and the unfairness of those circumstances. But as a reader, I felt that questions were asked in the story and readers are not able to come to a sufficient conclusion with the information provided.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this novel.

Jenny is a housewife with no children living in Prince George, Canada. She strikes up a terse friendship with her First Nations neighbor Rachelle, but when Rachelle goes missing Jenny does not know what to do. A white woman named Beth has also disappeared in the Prince George area recently, but when Jenny tries to report Rachelle missing nobody seems to be listening to her or want to help.

This book was truly a whirlwind. I enjoyed Hadded's writing style and the characters were nuanced but I will admit very unlikable. I read books to be transported somewhere else and I felt fully immersed in the western, Canadian small-town atmosphere.

In that same respect I also read books to experience other peoples hopes, faults, dreams. etc. In her plot summary of Fireweed, Haddad writes "what do we do with a person who isn’t bad, but who does no good?" This rings true in that Jenny is not necessarily a bad person, but she really does nothing productive for herself or others throughout the entirety of this novel. She has multiple self-revelations that are un-revolutionary as a reader who is well-versed in colonialism, residential schools, Indigenous cultures, and socio-political issues among other things. Maybe that is the point though. Jenny is someone who is relatively uneducated (she did not attend college), lower-class, and a woman (albeit white). She lives a very sheltered life. This novel is about someone who has experience severe trauma but is still extremely privileged and misguided. Two things can be true at once.

I think if you are a fan of mystery/thriller novels, as well as the "weird girl" genre like Ottessa Moshfegh (in the sense that the plot takes you nowhere and there may be little to no character development by the end of the novel but it was an interesting ride) then you will enjoy this novel! The cover is also insanely beautiful and I liked the use of the fireweed throughout the novel as a metaphor.