But with the new year of 2026, I found myself finishing a book I had started back in October–November 2025. It took time. It took patience. And more than anything, it took courage to return. This review marks my first book review of 2026, not as a grand comeback, but as a gentle restart.
I’m setting a simple, realistic goal for myself: one book a month. Just that. And maybe, once I find my rhythm again, two books in a month. For now, I’m choosing consistency over pressure.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo felt like the perfect book to begin this new chapter with — emotional, layered, and unforgettable. It reminded me why stories matter, and why I always find my way back to them.
I’m back.
And if I had to return to reading and writing with one book, I couldn’t have chosen better than The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. I started this novel sometime in late 2025 and finished it on January 2nd, 2026 — and it stayed with me long after I turned the last page.
This book is not just about Evelyn Hugo and her seven husbands. It’s about ambition, love, identity, sacrifice, and the price women pay for survival in a world that demands perfection. From the very beginning, Evelyn feels larger than life — glamorous, unapologetic, sharp, and deeply human. She is flawed, selfish at times, vulnerable at others, and completely unforgettable.
What I loved most about this book is how Taylor Jenkins Reid slowly peels Evelyn apart. Each marriage reveals a different version of her, not just as a wife, but as a woman navigating Hollywood, power, queerness, and fame in a time that wasn’t ready for her truth. The writing is immersive and emotionally intelligent, making you feel like you’re listening to a confession rather than reading a novel.
The structure of the story, Evelyn narrating her life to Monique, adds an extra layer of intimacy. Monique’s presence initially feels secondary, but as the story unfolds, her role becomes crucial. The emotional payoff of their connection is subtle, devastating, and incredibly well-earned.
One of the strongest aspects of the book is its portrayal of love in its many forms. Romantic love, forbidden love, selfish love, enduring love, none of it is idealized. It’s messy and complicated, and that’s exactly why it feels real. Evelyn’s choices may not always be likable, but they are understandable, and that nuance is what makes her such a powerful character.
If I had to mention one small downside, it would be that certain sections felt emotionally heavy back-to-back, almost overwhelming, but honestly, that intensity is also what makes the book unforgettable. It demands your attention and your emotional presence.
Reading this after a slump felt personal. This book reminded me why I read in the first place, to feel deeply, to question morality, to sit with characters who don’t fit neatly into right or wrong. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo didn’t just pull me out of a reading slump; it gently pushed me back into myself.
***
Coming back to reading and writing after a slump isn’t easy. There were days when I felt disconnected from books, from words, and honestly, from myself. This review isn’t about being “back on track” or suddenly being consistent again, it’s simply about showing up.
Finishing this book and writing about it feels like a quiet victory. A reminder that even after pauses, detours, and overwhelming phases, we can always return to the things that once made us feel alive. Slowly. Imperfectly. In our own time.
Here’s to new beginnings in 2026, to stories that meet us where we are, and to finding our way back — one page, one paragraph, one review at a time.