Breakaway Books

Authored by Sarah Damoff; Published April 2025; Fiction

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It is rare, in a novel, to have the density of both pain and forgiveness contained in The Bright Years. It brought me to tears, and it brought me hope. 

In The Bright Years, Lilian and Ryan’s romance is full of hope as they embark on their new life together. But long-buried secrets and alcoholism bring the pair back to reality. Through pregnancies and relapses, the two separate and struggle to find their way back to each other, and their daughter Georgette tries to make sense of it all as she grows up. In spite of the tragedy that befalls all three of them, they each manage to hold on to hope in their own ways.

This novel does not view addiction with rose-colored glasses. Every time Ryan relapses into his drinking, it feels like a punch in the gut; it made me want to scream “why?” especially when his daughter needed him the most. Perhaps because the novel is so unflinching in its descriptions, it makes the depiction of Lilian’s devoted love for Ryan all the more painful and beautiful. It is not blind optimism, but a true belief in the vows she took and the connection between them that allows her to hold on to the marriage when all seems lost. Their relationship is not a fairy tale love story—I got so angry at Ryan on Lilian’s behalf, especially when he uses her as an excuse to drink—but it is a story of deep love. In some ways, the novel feels like a litmus test of how we view forgiveness and the limits that we put on it.

To have the perspective switch from Lilian, the abandoned wife, to Georgette, the abandoned daughter, about halfway through the novel, doubles down on the realism with which it depicts the effects of addiction. It was impossible not to shed at least a few tears for Jet, as she preferred to be called, despite how wonderfully her grandmother stands in as a caretaker. It all felt so messy, to rely on the mother of the absent father, who mourns her son’s alcoholism as well, but her stoicism makes her as dependable as they come. Jet has her own love story, of course, not free from complications, but her partner Kendi has a sweetness that emanates off him and struck me as a balm to the cruelty that Jet experiences in the rest of her life. The family that Jet inherits with Kendi does not take away the rest of the tragedy she experiences, but it does feel like a happier ending than it could have been for her.

The Bright Years was full of tears and messiness, but it is because of that the hope it offers feels much more real and much stronger. If that’s what you need, pick this one up.