This intriguing family introspective will make you appreciate your loved ones, no matter how flawed they appear to be.
Good to know
Why I love it
Jenna Bush Hager
Co-host, TODAY with Hoda & Jenna
All Adults Here is the kind of book I want to read while sitting by the pool with a drink. While that’s not something we can all do right now, Straub’s writing is still a fun escape for people who just want to go live in somebody else’s shoes for a while.
When Astrid Strick, a bossy but loving grandmother, witnesses a neighborhood acquaintance get hit by a bus, she is spurred into bringing her own family together—whether they share her renewed appreciation for loved ones or not. Each chapter follows a member of her clan, from her thoughtful and compassionate granddaughter Cecelia to her three very independent-minded children. Their storylines offer hilarity, heartbreak, and plenty of juicy complications.
The book explores how families can be messy and complicated while at the same time stay centered on love. It poses big themes that you can discuss with friends and family but also remains light and fun at its core. I think in a time when all we want is hope, All Adults Here is a bright and beautiful book to reach for.
I have been a fan of Emma Straub for a long time. She has a unique ability to create very funny and wild observations while telling powerful stories about the essential messiness of families. In a time when all we want is hope, All Adults Here is a bright and beautiful book that offers up warmth and wonder on every page.
When Astrid Strick witnesses a school bus accident in the center of town, it jostles loose a repressed memory from her young parenting days decades earlier. Suddenly, Astrid realizes she was not quite the parent she thought she’d been to her three, now-grown children. But to what consequence?
Astrid’s youngest son is drifting and unfocused, making parenting mistakes of his own. Her daughter is intentionally pregnant yet struggling to give up her own adolescence. And her eldest seems to measure his adult life according to standards no one else shares. But who gets to decide, so many years later, which long-ago lapses were the ones that mattered? Who decides which apologies really count? It might be that only Astrid’s thirteen-year-old granddaughter and her new friend really understand the courage it takes to tell the truth to the people you love the most.