Star Rating: 5 / 5

Alicia Cahalane Lewis’s The Longest Day is a profoundly affecting novel that demands attention and empathy. Told through the eyes of Ellen Abigail Allen, a teenager navigating both the normal turbulence of adolescence and the extraordinary burden of sexual violence, the story resonates with a clarity that is painful but necessary. As an older woman, I felt deeply the echoes of my own generation’s struggles, moments when young women were told to endure, to be silent, to accept rather than resist.

From its earliest pages, the book situates us in Ellen’s conflicted interior world. She writes, “I fall somewhere in the gray undiscovered realm of a boy/girl. A composite. A germ cell." This candid self-assessment highlights the uncertainty of identity at an age when expectations about gender feel both rigid and suffocating. Ellen’s refusal to fit neatly into categories, girl or boy, conformist or rebel, reminds the reader that selfhood is never simple, and that for young women especially, identity is too often defined by others rather than claimed for oneself.

The novel also explores the importance of writing as survival. Ellen clings to her composition books, numbering them and filling them with her most private thoughts. “My most precious secrets go in here," she confesses, fiercely protective of the words she commits to paper. For me, this detail spoke volumes about how young women safeguard their voices when the world refuses to listen. The composition books become both shield and sword, a place where Ellen can exist on her own terms even as her physical environment betrays her.

The dynamic between Ellen and her peers is another central thread. Her friendship with Sylvia is marked by both admiration and frustration. Sylvia is confident, sharp, and seemingly unshakable, yet Ellen knows that even Sylvia might turn her writing into gossip. The tension between loyalty and betrayal among girls at that age is rendered with authenticity, underscoring how vulnerable Ellen feels. Later, her interactions with Justin reveal yet another layer: the confusing overlap of attraction, mistrust, and unexpected solidarity. His attempts to comfort her after Mr. Wallace’s assault ring hollow, highlighting how even well-meaning peers cannot truly shoulder the weight of what Ellen endures.

Lewis’s prose captures the claustrophobic reality of adolescence with striking detail. When Ellen describes sitting in Ms. Swift’s classroom, forced to read aloud from Romeo and Juliet while silently reeling from trauma, the reader feels her dissonance: the impossibility of performing normalcy when one’s inner world has been torn apart. The rain and sleet outside mirror her own frozen state, nature itself becoming a backdrop for her turmoil.

What emerges most powerfully is Ellen’s resilience. Despite humiliation, betrayal, and disbelief, she insists on claiming her right to be heard. She resists being reduced to her trauma, even as it threatens to consume her. The novel’s insistence on telling the story in Ellen’s own words, halting, angry, and tender, ensures that she is never silenced, even when those around her try to dismiss or control her.

The Longest Day speaks to generations of women who know the weight of silence, while offering younger readers a story that insists on truth. Alicia Cahalane Lewis has written a haunting and necessary reminder that bearing witness is itself an act of courage.

Reviewed by Jessica Fahey,  Los Angeles Book Review

Alicia Cahalane Lewis’s The Longest Day is a raw and courageous novel that blends memoir-like intimacy with the voice of a young girl navigating the boundaries of identity, power, and survival. At its core, this is Ellen Abigail Allen’s story—one told with unflinching honesty about girlhood, betrayal, and the search for selfhood in a world that too often diminishes or disbelieves women. From the opening lines—“There’s something I need to tell you. It’s about a rape. My book won’t be easy to read,” the reader knows they are entering a narrative that will not look away from pain, nor from the uncomfortable truths that come with it.

The book’s most striking theme is survival in the face of systemic silencing. Ellen’s voice is layered with hesitation and strength, innocence and fury. She grapples not only with the trauma of abuse at the hands of a teacher but also with the secondary betrayal of authority figures who dismiss her cries for help. Mrs. Burke, the administrative figure who should have protected her, reduces Ellen’s pain to “ego,” telling her not to “put your ego up on a pedestal.”. This moment rings painfully true for many readers familiar with the ways institutions protect themselves before children. I found myself deeply sympathetic to Ellen’s repeated attempts to name what happened, even as adults around her insisted she remain silent.

Another powerful thread running through the book is identity, particularly what it means to grow up female in a culture that constantly demands justification. Ellen’s early reflections, “There’s nothing wrong, as there’s nothing right, about being a girl. It’s not something I wanted to be…It’s who I am,” capture the universal adolescent uncertainty about belonging, magnified by the expectations placed upon girls. Her comparisons to her mother, who idolizes Gloria Steinem but pushes Ellen to “be her own Gloria,” underline the generational tension between feminism as an ideal and lived reality.

Lewis also interweaves themes of friendship, betrayal, and first love. Ellen’s uneasy bond with Sylvia and her complicated encounters with Justin add dimension to her voice. These relationships, awkward and sometimes painful, feel authentic to the adolescent experience. They serve as counterpoints to the darkness, reminding the reader that even amid trauma, there are still moments of longing, humor, and humanity.

Reading The Longest Day is not easy, and it should not be. It demands empathy, attention, and reflection. As a woman, I felt both protective of Ellen and in awe of her resilience. Her story reminds us of the courage it takes to speak when silence is expected, and of the necessity of listening to young voices even when they are halting, angry, or ashamed. Alicia Cahalane Lewis has given us a book that is as unsettling as it is essential.

Reviewed By: , Kathryn Dare, San Francisco Book Review

“There’s nothing wrong, as there’s nothing right, about being a girl. It’s not something I wanted to be, and it’s not something I don’t want to be. It’s who I am,” muses 15-year-old Ellen in the opening lines of Lewis’s introspective novel, as she delves into her fear, frustration, and fury at a flawed, oppressive system that treats girls as immaterial and weak. At Ellen’s experimental, privately-funded school, The Craftsman, the teachers are all female—except for one, Mr. Wallace. When he keeps Ellen after class one day, accuses her of cheating on a biology test, and rapes her, she struggles to voice what has happened. Her resulting journey to reclaim herself unfurls through an unsure but earnest voice, woven together with themes of feminism and friendship.

Lewis (author of The Archivist) offers a story that centers on Ellen’s struggle to navigate Wallace’s sexual assault and her life at The Craftsman after it happens. Authority figures don’t take her seriously, her unreliable friend Sylvia is caught up in her own troubles, and school outlier Justin’s clumsy attempts to connect annoy more than they comfort—though he does offer Ellen distraction when he asks her to help investigate what he believes is the location of Queen Nefertiti’s missing tomb. Reluctant at first—Wallace is involved with Justin’s work—Ellen eventually identifies with the female power and spiritual security Nefertiti represents.

Ellen’s lens of a child negotiating very recent trauma propels this harrowing story, resulting in an introspective coming-of-age with a heart-wrenching conclusion. The story takes place in a handful of rooms over the course of just a few hours. That limited timeframe means the emotional conclusions are largely solved off page, but as Ellen learns more about Nefertiti’s gripping legacy, she also touches on revelations of her own strength, echoed in Justin’s observations that the famed Egyptian queen is “not lost. She’s just not been found.”

“Lewis’ gripping tale, at under 100 pages, will keep readers guessing throughout. [It] deftly takes readers to another world…an inviting…tale of the desire to uncover a lost myth.” 

-Kirkus Reviews

“Lewis's novella is an ancient, yet timeless, fairytale of curiosity, discovery, and corruption. The narrators' perspective plays with your mind a bit.

Who is this "we?" What is their journey and why do we yearn to follow them? It begs the question if this cycle of their goddess will repeat. The answer is as sharp as a panther's canines.”

- Miriam Meeks, Manager, Middleberg Books

"The Archivist is a gem in a sea of stones. Alicia Cahalane Lewis captures the essence of the Divine Feminine and the origins in a way that portrays what and who SHE truly is. I felt HER essence come through in the most unassuming way, it was the vulnerability and humility that resonates through every cell. Truth is being spoken...it was like water for the soul. For anyone who is drawn to Goddess work, read, and be nourished."

-Sarah Michelle Wergin, RN, LAc, Healer, Teacher, and author of Awaken-The Alchemy of Divine Union

“Some books don’t just tell a story. They exhume something buried.

“The Archivist by Alicia Cahalane Lewis is under 100 pages, yet it carries the weight of centuries. The voices of women who shaped history. The grief. The fury. The wisdom.

“It’s poetic rage wrapped in myth. It softens you as much as it hardens you. And it lingers like a melancholic dream, demanding anyone you encounter after to endure a tangent on how they MUST read it to experience the story of the Black Panther Goddess who was buried.”

-Rachel Alvarez, @rachelrealmreader

“Alicia Lewis is a poetic writer who uses simple themes to disentangle us from the complexities we’ve built into our everyday lives. In The Faeries of Fable Island, she uses the adventures of a 5th-generation Wendy Darling to reintroduce us to the universal themes in the original Peter Pan: memory, courage, joy, sadness, love, and the uplifting influence of believing in magic. James Barrie would be proud—an amazing evocation of a magical place where spirits are free and dreams come true.”

- Pam Webber, Bestselling Author of The Wiregrass, Moon Water, and Life Dust.

“This fantasy novel from Alicia Cahalane Lewis is a deeply philosophical and contemplative reimagining of Scottish novelist J. M. Barrie’s classic Peter Pan narrative.

In 2024, Megan Elida Fay, 16, lives in a dilapidated house on the Maine coast with her aunt. The remote stretch of coastline is a tourist hotspot, as it has been rumored for decades to be the place where believers can sometimes see an imaginary island, allegedly inhabited by Peter Pan himself. Meg’s family has been believers for generations; her great-great-grandmother (named Wendy Darling) apparently visited the island, which featured golden rainbows and fields of transparent poppies. Meg’s mother was a believer as well, but when she died after a battle with cancer, and Meg’s alcoholic father abandoned her, she feels “trapped in a story someone else wrote for [her].”

With the weight of her family’s generational secrets and expectations (as well as her still unprocessed grief) weighing heavily on her, Meg must decide between solving the mystery of the island or walking away from it all to begin her own story.

One of the novel’s strengths is its audacious unpredictability; the narrative doesn’t go where readers will expect it to. There’s also an impressive focus on rich, immersive description, as well as thematically powerful statements: “I look around the room crowded with fading antique books, dark dusty Victorian furniture, chipped glass vases, an umbrella stand filled with rotting silk umbrellas, a carriage wheel, a green parrot feather under glass, and a couple of dried moth carcasses pinned to a board. I wheeze, “We’re collectors of dead things...”

Readers expecting a whimsical story about fairies and the faerie realm will be disappointed. This is a much deeper novel, exploring complex issues like children struggling with loss, dealing with grief, environmental stewardship, the power of belief, and the magic created by embracing wonder.

Deep readers will find this novel unconventional, perceptive, and profoundly moving.”

-Blue Ink Review

“An intriguing premise and one that made me jump at the chance to read this. With the promise of magic, adventure and Faerie Tales, we follow Meg, the great, great granddaughter of Wendy Darling as she seeks to discover if Fable Island is real after all. I adored the way this was written, the author's ability to blend modern times with the magic of a fabled book, a hidden Island, Peter Pan and the possibility of magic and Faeries. Well written, I was instantly drawn to Meg who is dealing with the grief of the death of her mother when she was six, her fathers leaving shortly after and her troublesome relationship with her Aunt. This book as well as all the elements of magic and fantasy realms deals with some other heavier subjects like grief, the death of a child and finding out who you are. I loved the idea of what the Island actually represents in the end, the sense of wonder and mystery surrounding Peter, Faeries and the island. Throughout, the real backstory of Meg's ancestors is slowly revealed and we learn the importance of belief and hope through Meg and her best friend. The ending of this one was perfectly in line with the whole vibe of the book, and leaves the reader wondering at what happens next. Belief and hope to the end. This is a quick read, and one that is perfect as either a standalone read or one I'd love to see a sequel too. Perfect for fantasy fans who believe in magic and possibilities!”

-Cathryn Melani, A LoveReading ambassador

Love Reading Indie Books We Love

“On her 16th birthday, Megan Elida Fay, descended from a long line of Wendy Darlings, is still haunted by her mother’s tragic death 10 years earlier.

Abandoned by her father after her mother’s death, Megan moved in with her maternal aunt, the cryptic Georgia, in a clapboard cottage perched on the Maine coast, where she spends her time desperate to decipher whether her parents’ stories of Fable Island and Peter Pan were true. When Georgia informs her the magic is real—and that Meg’s expected to find the bridge to cross over to Fable Island—Meg feels trapped in someone else’s story.

Lewis (author of Restless) engraves this modern-day fairy tale with a deep sense of regret, from Meg’s debilitating grief to her aunt’s weariness at how to help to her father’s downward spiral when the magic feels impossible. Meg’s teen angst is palpable, as is her internal struggle between what she sees in the world around her and the mystery she senses hovering just out of her reach. Too practical and too wracked by grief, Meg works hard to convince herself that her mother can’t have transcended death to live on Fable Island, despite the glimmering signs that she is part of something much, much bigger than herself.

Part coming-of-age journey and part lesson in grief, Lewis’s tale encourages readers to let go while moving forward. Meg’s relationship with her father—and his failed attempt at reconciliation—is painful to watch, as is her best friend Theo’s quicker grasp of magical thinking, despite Meg’s legacy. After much effort, Meg eventually concedes: “Fable Island may not be real but it exists… It is in the hearts and minds of those who believe.” Lewis delivers a delicate balance between real life and the whisper of magic throughout, building moments of drama and whimsy that will stick with readers long after the last page.”

Comparable Titles: Liz Michalski’s Darling Girl, Alex Flinn’s Beastly.

-BookLife Reviews by Publishers Weekly

“A thought provoking interpretation of a coming of age fantasy adventure. Megan is the great-great-granddaughter of Wendy Darling, struggling to cope after her mother’s death and her father’s disappearance, living with her aunt surrounded by family heirlooms. Connected to her family’s story is the one of Fable Island, a lost magical island where Peter Pan and the Faerie Queen reside. Will Meg be able to overcome her grief and discover this elusive island as her family thinks she would, and will she be able to discover a free-spirited self and open herself up to the possibility of magic? I thought that ‘The Faeries of Fable Island’ is an interesting take on a coming-of-age fantasy adventure. The use of a more literary style keeps the reader grounded mostly in reality, we follow Meg as she simultaneously clings to her past and connection to Fable Island while also rejecting the notion it exists. It’s like this rejection prevents Meg from seeing the magic and hope in the world around which would allow her to move through the darker parts of her grief. This is a thought-provoking, character driven novel with a dash of magical realism about trying to find hope and belief in your darkest moments.”

-Charlotte Walker, A LoveReading Ambassador

Love Reading Indie Books We Love

"This novella is comprised of many poetic vignettes that come together for a tantalizing whole that still somehow feels incomplete, as if the reader is searching, and failing, to find Emilie. The chapters are told in a  series of intimate stream-of-consciousness first-person perspectives, as in this narration from Guy: 'I construct a play without words because I have said nothing to you, and you, in turn, have said nothing to me. Where in this universe are you that I should know your lost language?' All the characters feel like brief sketches except for Emilie herself...Indeed, the story circles her like a haunting dream, with imagery taking precedence over plot…A lyrical historical novella about an elusive young Parisian woman who flees from her family and romantic relationships…A brief but memorable tale with prose that sings.”

- Kirkus Reviews

“…a beautifully written novel told from the points of view of its main characters…I felt like I was floating over the characters as I followed them on their journeys.”

- Los Angeles Book Review

“In Room Service Please by Alicia Cahalane Lewis, delivers a spellbinding, twisty tale that features not only strong plot points but unforgettable, richly imagined, and sophisticated characters.

“This evocative, deeply immersive tale is character-driven, a tale about taking impossible chances. Fans of beautifully wrought and suspenseful coming-of-age stories will not be able to resist the spell in Room Service Please…I loved everything about this book — the powerful premise, the compelling characters, the unexpected twist, and the gorgeous writing. You won't be able to put it down.”

- Christian Fernandez, The Book Commentary

"A coming of age story wonderfully spun through the eyes of a sixteen-year-old from a different era. With vivid characters and a rich storyline, Edith shows us that growing up and away from expectations is as complicated and confusing now as it was a hundred years ago. Room Service, Please, is an easy read that will have you wanting to know how it ends from the first page."

- Grace Derickson, San Francisco Book Review