Verity by Colleen Hoover – A Year Later, and I’m Still Not Okay

Hi everyone! Welcome to my first-ever blog post — where I overthink books, get emotionally wrecked by fictional characters, and attempt to put my thoughts into words. If you’ve somehow stumbled upon this, thanks for being here! This is my first attempt at blogging, so please don’t judge too hard — I’m just a book lover trying to put my endless thoughts into something coherent.

And what better way to kick things off than with a book that still haunts me a year after reading it?

Colleen Hoover’s Verity is the kind of book that burrows into your brain and refuses to leave. I read it last year, and even now, I find myself thinking about its chilling twists and that gut-dropping finale. Honestly, I never actually planned to write a review—maybe because I was still processing the absolute whirlwind this book put me through.

As someone who loves analyzing literature, Verity felt like a masterclass in psychological tension. Hoover takes the classic unreliable narrator trope and cranks it up to a whole new level. Lowen, the struggling writer, and Verity’s eerie, unfinished manuscript had me questioning everything. Is Verity a villain? A victim? Am I losing my mind right alongside these characters? The suspense was almost unbearable, but in the best way possible.

I won’t lie — this book was disturbing. But that’s exactly why it worked. It’s dark, unsettling, and addictive, the kind of novel that makes you second-guess every relationship, every assumption, everything. Even a year later, I can still feel its grip. If you love thrillers that mess with your head and leave you screaming “WHAT DID I JUST READ?” into the void, Verity is an absolute must.

If you've read Verity, let’s talk — did you pick a side in the Verity vs. Lowen debate, or are you still spiraling like I am? Drop a comment below! And again, first-time blogger here, so be nice. 😅