The Other Side of Now: A Novel
A hilarious and heartfelt novel about how loves and lives are never truly lost, for fans of Rebecca Serle and Taylor Jenkins Reid.
With a leading role on a hit TV show and a relationship with Hollywood’s latest heartthrob, Meg Bryan appears to have everything she ever wanted. But underneath, her happiness is as fake as her stage name, Lana Lord. Following a tiny nervous breakdown at her thirtieth birthday party, she books an impromptu trip to Ireland. Specifically, to the village where she and her best friend Aimee always dreamt of moving.
When Meg arrives, the people in town don’t just recognize her, they seem to know her. She quickly—reluctantly—realizes she has somehow slipped into an alternate reality. One where she did move to Ireland as a teenager, one where she never got famous, and—most shocking of all—one where Aimee is alive and well.
She just wants nothing to do with Meg.
Despite her bewilderment, Meg is clear-eyed about one thing: this is a once-in-two-lifetimes chance to reconnect with her friend and repair what she broke . . . or else risk losing Aimee all over again.
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Community Reviews
If you don’t cry at least twice while reading The Other Side of Now, then you have no soul and should probably get that checked out.
This book is a masterclass in emotional whiplash. One minute, you’re snort-laughing because our main character, Meg Bryan—sorry, Lana Lord (yes, really)—is spiraling at her own Hollywood birthday party like a champagne-soaked tornado. And the next minute? BAM—she’s in Ireland, casually quantum-leaping into a softer, sadder, realer version of her life where her skin isn’t airbrushed, her nose is original, and oh yeah—her dead best friend is alive but not speaking to her. Because trauma, baby!
Seriously, the emotional range of this book is bananas. One chapter you’re side-eyeing hot, grumpy bartender with a brooding past (standard literary requirement), and the next you’re clutching your chest, whispering, “I didn’t sign up for this level of FEELINGS.” The alternate reality angle is done so well you start questioning your own life choices. Should I have moved to a tiny Irish village? Should I have a dog I don’t recognize? Have I been emotionally neglecting my dead/not-dead best friend?? These are the questions this book makes you ask, all while somehow making you laugh through the heartbreak.
Meg is a mess—but in the best, most cathartic way. Watching her unravel the mystery of this alternate life is like peeling back the layers of an onion that’s been dipped in glitter and shame. She’s selfish, she’s flawed, she makes questionable choices with men and hairstyles—but she tries. And that’s what gets you. That, and Aimee. Oh, Aimee. If you don’t cry at that scene—you’ll know the one—you might actually owe the universe a refund for your soul.
The writing is heartfelt without being sappy, funny without being forced, and just grounded enough that the quantum-leap premise doesn’t feel like a fever dream. It’s like Rebecca Serle, Taylor Jenkins Reid, and the ghost of your unresolved emotional baggage wrote a book together in an Irish pub.
By the time you reach the ending—an absolutely gut-punching, warm hug of a finale—you’ll be emotionally wrecked in the best way possible and ready to spiral into your own alternate timeline fantasy. Preferably one with a dog, a second chance, and slightly better life choices.
Five stars. Two emotional breakdowns. One magical trip to Ireland that’ll make you believe in friendship, forgiveness, and the power of a good pub.
This book is a masterclass in emotional whiplash. One minute, you’re snort-laughing because our main character, Meg Bryan—sorry, Lana Lord (yes, really)—is spiraling at her own Hollywood birthday party like a champagne-soaked tornado. And the next minute? BAM—she’s in Ireland, casually quantum-leaping into a softer, sadder, realer version of her life where her skin isn’t airbrushed, her nose is original, and oh yeah—her dead best friend is alive but not speaking to her. Because trauma, baby!
Seriously, the emotional range of this book is bananas. One chapter you’re side-eyeing hot, grumpy bartender with a brooding past (standard literary requirement), and the next you’re clutching your chest, whispering, “I didn’t sign up for this level of FEELINGS.” The alternate reality angle is done so well you start questioning your own life choices. Should I have moved to a tiny Irish village? Should I have a dog I don’t recognize? Have I been emotionally neglecting my dead/not-dead best friend?? These are the questions this book makes you ask, all while somehow making you laugh through the heartbreak.
Meg is a mess—but in the best, most cathartic way. Watching her unravel the mystery of this alternate life is like peeling back the layers of an onion that’s been dipped in glitter and shame. She’s selfish, she’s flawed, she makes questionable choices with men and hairstyles—but she tries. And that’s what gets you. That, and Aimee. Oh, Aimee. If you don’t cry at that scene—you’ll know the one—you might actually owe the universe a refund for your soul.
The writing is heartfelt without being sappy, funny without being forced, and just grounded enough that the quantum-leap premise doesn’t feel like a fever dream. It’s like Rebecca Serle, Taylor Jenkins Reid, and the ghost of your unresolved emotional baggage wrote a book together in an Irish pub.
By the time you reach the ending—an absolutely gut-punching, warm hug of a finale—you’ll be emotionally wrecked in the best way possible and ready to spiral into your own alternate timeline fantasy. Preferably one with a dog, a second chance, and slightly better life choices.
Five stars. Two emotional breakdowns. One magical trip to Ireland that’ll make you believe in friendship, forgiveness, and the power of a good pub.