Fleishman Is In Trouble by Taffy Brodesser-Akner

This is one of those books that found me, not the other way around.

I was scrolling through Libby, looking for something, anything, that was immediately available on audiobook, and Fleishman Is in Trouble popped up, sounding just compelling enough to hit play.

What I didn’t realize at the time is that this book comes with… a reputation. Awards, nominations, a whole lot of buzz, and even a TV adaptation. Which, in hindsight, probably set me up for a very different experience than what I actually had.

Because here’s the thing…

I don’t really get it.

At its core, this book is about a marriage unraveling. About what happens when life doesn’t turn out the way you thought it would. About identity, adulthood, resentment, ambition, and all the messy, uncomfortable things that come with being a person in the middle of your life, realizing you might not actually know what you’re doing.

And conceptually, I get why that resonates with people.

But in practice? This one just didn’t land for me.

The relationship at the center of the story is… rough. Not in a compelling, can’t look away kind of way. More in a “why am I spending this much time with these people?” kind of way. I didn’t find it aspirational, obviously, but I also didn’t find it particularly insightful. It just felt draining.

And maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s supposed to feel uncomfortable and frustrating and a little bit hopeless. But for me, it crossed the line from thought-provoking into just… not enjoyable.

I’ve seen this described as a “beach read,” which I genuinely cannot wrap my head around. I don’t know what beach that is, but it’s not one I’m packing for. This is not light or fun. If anything, it’s the kind of book that leaves you staring into the middle distance, questioning your life choices.

Which, again, might be appealing to some readers.

Just not me.

Part of the challenge was the narration style. The story is told through a third-party perspective that somehow has deep, intimate access to everyone’s thoughts and motivations. And instead of feeling layered or clever, it felt… confusing. A little disjointed. Like I was constantly trying to orient myself within the narrative instead of just being carried by it.

To be fair, I listened to this as an audiobook, and I do wonder if that contributed to the experience. Maybe it reads differently on the page. Maybe the structure feels more intentional when you can see it rather than hear it.

But as it stands, it didn’t quite work for me.

There’s also a section, and if you’ve read it, you probably know exactly what I’m talking about, that leans heavily into repetition to make a point about feeling stuck. And I understand the intention. I really do. But instead of feeling immersed, it just made me impatient. I found myself thinking, okay, I get it. We’re stuck. Can we move on now?

Not exactly the reaction you want from a reader nearing the finish line.

And speaking of finishing. I did finish it. But not because I couldn’t put it down. Quite the opposite. I had about ten percent left and took nearly a week off before forcing myself to wrap it up. It became more of a “well, I’ve come this far” situation than an “I need to know what happens” one.

Which is usually my biggest tell.

If I’m not itching to get back to a book, something’s off.

Now, I know I’m in the minority here. This book has been widely praised, and clearly, it’s striking a chord with a lot of people. And I can respect that. If you’re drawn to character-driven stories about marriage, identity, and the complicated evolution of adulthood, there’s a good chance this will resonate with you more than it did with me.

But for me, it felt like spending hours inside a relationship I didn’t believe in, with characters I didn’t particularly like, narrated in a way that kept me at arm’s length the entire time.

And that’s a tough combination to overcome.

So while I can see what it was trying to do, it’s not one I’d go out of my way to recommend.

But hey. You might love it.