Frankie is the funny one, full of restless energy and sharp edges, the sister who got sober, opened a bookstore, and slipped into a version of domestic life without ever fully confronting the past. Mere is the steady one, the caretaker, a mother quietly unraveling under the demands of her neurodivergent daughter and the loneliness of a marriage to a husband who sees the world through an entirely different lens.
For the Gilmore sisters, losing their mother to cancer at a young age gave them a brief window of closeness they’ve never been able to reclaim. But over the years, a mentally ill father, the unspoken trauma of sexual violence, and the different vices they turned to for survival fractured their bond and created a divide of resentment neither of them could bring themselves to cross. When a woman in Frankie’s social circle disappears, the sisters are pulled into a shared reckoning and can no longer deny the past that has shaped so much of their present.
Set against the backdrop of a quiet Northern California mountain town, this gripping and emotionally layered novel unfolds in alternating perspectives, revealing the many ways women vanish inside motherhood, addiction, marriage, and shame. Told with raw honesty and wry compassion, Jessica Guerrieri’s sophomore novel is a story of sisterhood, acceptance, the unspoken truths we carry, and the redemptive power of bridging pain into connection.
This was my first book by Jessica Guerrieri, and the gorgeous cover that looks like a painting, the intriguing title, and the cast of narrators, all of whom I’ve enjoyed in the past, got my attention. Going in blind, I expected this to be a literary thriller, but after finishing it, I’d say it’s more literary fiction, with suspense taking a back seat to the themes of addiction, sisterhood, trauma, generational behavioral patterns, and mental illness. One of the FMCs, Frankie, is a messy, contradictory character who seems to believe that loving her family and escaping responsibility can both be true—that’s where I think the title represents, but it’s totally open to interpretation!
The story is mostly told from the third-person POVs of sisters Frankie and Mere, with an ambiguous opening prologue suggesting that someone can stay in a bad situation while being emotionally gone. I was intrigued! From there, Frankie and Brie are introduced as sponsor and sponsee in an AA program. During a meetup, Brie expresses her struggles with recovery and wants to leave the country. She’s also concerned about her daughter Margaret, who recently had cochlear implants, and while this should be something positive, Brie is distressed by everything. I sensed this story would have strong addiction themes, as both women felt very complex.
Frankie’s relationship with her sister Mere, from whom she was estranged for years because of her addiction issues, is a major part of the story, and they now have a complex relationship. Some compelling flashbacks show their childhood with a father who struggled with mental illness and addiction and trauma from losing their mother. A lot of the early chapters focus on the complicated dynamics between characters and characters’backstories. As interesting as I found the characters, I was waiting for major plot points to happen. They eventually arrive when Brie disappears, immediately affecting Frankie. The husbands of the women in the story go on a camping trip on the weekend that Brie disappears. I was intrigued by where this missing-person mystery would go, especially with the possibility that the husbands might be connected.
Having said that, a good portion of the story focuses on Frankie’s addiction problems and downward spiral, along with her strained relationships with her husband, sister, and best friend. Mere’s struggles as a mother to her autistic daughter Lily are also a compelling, relatable thread.
The chapters are short to medium length. While I appreciated the immersive dialogue and character depth, I found some of Frankie’s inner monologues and spiraling thoughts a bit repetitive. In the second half, I wanted more plot points to move the story forward rather than more conversations and backstory. There are definitely some satisfying scenes toward the end, but I also wanted more resolution to the mystery surrounding Brie. The way Frankie and Mere are forced to confront their pain and fractured relationship is well done and will really resonate with some readers.
Overall, I think this is a great option for readers who enjoy literary fiction with complex sisterhood and realistic addiction and mental health themes. I recommend reading/listening to the author’s note, as she shares how her ownexperiences with sexual assault and sobriety inspired this story and how important the sponsor-sponsee relationship in AA was to her recovery. It also helped me understand why it played such a big role in the book.
If you’re considering this one on audio, the three seasoned narrators—Helen Laser, Rebecca Lowman, and Mia Hutchinson-Shaw—do a great job bringing the characters to life and help keep you engaged, even through some slower or repetitive sections. I think an immersive read of both the audiobook and physical book is the best way to go with this one! I may not have been the best reader for this book, but I can see a lot of people really loving it!
Narrator Performance
Both Can Be True is narrated by seasoned narrators Helen Laser, Mia Hutchinson-Shaw, and Rebecca Lowman. Author Jessica Guerrieri also narrates the author’s note at the end, which I recommend listening to for more insight into the story.
Laser narrates the prologue, and I was gripped. She sets a mysterious, unsettling opening tone to the book. There’s a sense that something is wrong with a female character, but it’s ambiguous, and Laser does a fantastic job building tension and drawing you right in.
Mia Hutchinson-Shaw narrates protagonist Frankie. Early on, she makes Frankie sound a bit unstable and unreliable, with a lot going on under the surface, but you can also hear how much she loves her family. The interactions between Frankie and Bree at the beginning are a highlight, especially as Hutchinson-Shaw’s delivery subtly foreshadows what’s to come. A standout of Mia’s narration is how she conveys the dynamic between Frankie and her sister Mere. She captures their strained relationship so realistically, and the way they speak to each other change as the story progresses. The scenes where Frankie learns about Bree’s disappearance and then discovers more details were powerfully narrated. When Frankie falls back into old patterns, Hutchinson-Shaw makes her struggle feel so authentic—you can hear Frankie’s desperation to escape what she’s feeling. If you know anyone who’s struggled with addiction, these scenes may feel familiar—and this is definitely where I thought Hutchinson-Shaw’s performance shined!
Rebecca Lowman narrates Mere, and you can immediately hear the difference between the sisters. She makes Mere sound more responsible, with a sense of concern for Frankie, but the delivery also makes it clear that Mere has her own struggles and anxieties. Lowman’s narration of her inner monologues really convey a lot of those uncertainties, especially when it comes to her sister and her daughter, Lily, who is autistic. Because of Lowman’s performance, Mere ended up being the most likeable character for me. The interactions between Mere and Avery were another highlight, and Lowman really brings out the friendship and trust between them.
This is very much a slow-burn story with a lot of intense, realistic dialogue and character backstory. I recommend an immersive read with the audiobook and a physical copy, if possible, to help keep you fully engaged throughout. All three narrators do a fantastic job of bringing their characters to life and really make the story very compelling!
Narrator Performance
Both Can Be True is narrated by seasoned narrators Helen Laser, Mia Hutchinson-Shaw, and Rebecca Lowman. Author Jessica Guerrieri also narrates the author’s note at the end, which I recommend listening to for more insight into the story.
Laser narrates the prologue, and I was gripped. She sets a mysterious, unsettling opening tone to the book. There’s a sense that something is wrong with a female character, but it’s ambiguous, and Laser does a fantastic job building tension and drawing you right in.
Mia Hutchinson-Shaw narrates protagonist Frankie. Early on, she makes Frankie sound a bit unstable and unreliable, with a lot going on under the surface, but you can also hear how much she loves her family. The interactions between Frankie and Bree at the beginning are a highlight, especially as Hutchinson-Shaw’s delivery subtly foreshadows what’s to come. A standout of Mia’s narration is how she conveys the dynamic between Frankie and her sister Mere. She captures their strained relationship so realistically, and the way they speak to each other change as the story progresses. The scenes where Frankie learns about Bree’s disappearance and then discovers more details were powerfully narrated. When Frankie falls back into old patterns, Hutchinson-Shaw makes her struggle feel so authentic—you can hear Frankie’s desperation to escape what she’s feeling. If you know anyone who’s struggled with addiction, these scenes may feel familiar—and this is definitely where I thought Hutchinson-Shaw’s performance shined!
Rebecca Lowman narrates Mere, and you can immediately hear the difference between the sisters. She makes Mere sound more responsible, with a sense of concern for Frankie, but the delivery also makes it clear that Mere has her own struggles and anxieties. Lowman’s narration of her inner monologues really convey a lot of those uncertainties, especially when it comes to her sister and her daughter, Lily, who is autistic. Because of Lowman’s performance, Mere ended up being the most likeable character for me. The interactions between Mere and Avery were another highlight, and Lowman really brings out the friendship and trust between them.
This is very much a slow-burn story with a lot of intense, realistic dialogue and character backstory. I recommend an immersive read with the audiobook and a physical copy, if possible, to help keep you fully engaged throughout. All three narrators do a fantastic job of bringing their characters to life and really make the story very compelling!
Both Can Be True is narrated by seasoned narrators Helen Laser, Mia Hutchinson-Shaw, and Rebecca Lowman. Author Jessica Guerrieri also narrates the author’s note at the end, which I recommend listening to for more insight into the story.
Laser narrates the prologue, and I was gripped. She sets a mysterious, unsettling opening tone to the book. There’s a sense that something is wrong with a female character, but it’s ambiguous, and Laser does a fantastic job building tension and drawing you right in.
Mia Hutchinson-Shaw narrates protagonist Frankie. Early on, she makes Frankie sound a bit unstable and unreliable, with a lot going on under the surface, but you can also hear how much she loves her family. The interactions between Frankie and Bree at the beginning are a highlight, especially as Hutchinson-Shaw’s delivery subtly foreshadows what’s to come. A standout of Mia’s narration is how she conveys the dynamic between Frankie and her sister Mere. She captures their strained relationship so realistically, and the way they speak to each other change as the story progresses. The scenes where Frankie learns about Bree’s disappearance and then discovers more details were powerfully narrated. When Frankie falls back into old patterns, Hutchinson-Shaw makes her struggle feel so authentic—you can hear Frankie’s desperation to escape what she’s feeling. If you know anyone who’s struggled with addiction, these scenes may feel familiar—and this is definitely where I thought Hutchinson-Shaw’s performance shined!
Rebecca Lowman narrates Mere, and you can immediately hear the difference between the sisters. She makes Mere sound more responsible, with a sense of concern for Frankie, but the delivery also makes it clear that Mere has her own struggles and anxieties. Lowman’s narration of her inner monologues really convey a lot of those uncertainties, especially when it comes to her sister and her daughter, Lily, who is autistic. Because of Lowman’s performance, Mere ended up being the most likeable character for me. The interactions between Mere and Avery were another highlight, and Lowman really brings out the friendship and trust between them.
This is very much a slow-burn story with a lot of intense, realistic dialogue and character backstory. I recommend an immersive read with the audiobook and a physical copy, if possible, to help keep you fully engaged throughout. All three narrators do a fantastic job of bringing their characters to life and really make the story very compelling!
