“Sophie, Standing There” by Meg Mason

I LOVED THIS BOOK. 

I heard about Sophie, Standing There on Elin Hilderbrand's podcast, from last June's episode where they discussed the books coming out in Fall 2026 that they were most excited about. But I need to back up a little bit. I am not sure if this is a confession or a boast, but I have never read a book by Hilderbrand. Pretty sure this is because I am a book snob, and her books don't seem like my kind of thing. Is it a little surprising, then, that I was listening to her podcast? I'd never even heard of it before, but we (very briefly) met her co-host in Boston last month (because he was wearing book shoes!) and he mentioned the podcast. While I have already been happily immersed in podcasts about science and history, I had not yet gotten around to listening to any about reading, which suddenly seemed like a huge omission. So I decided to check it out. And I discovered that they have interviewed some of my favorite authors (Ann Patchett, Maggie O'Farrell, Lily King)! So though I was a little leery about taking a book recommendation from someone whose taste in books probably does not match mine, I decided to give it a try. And I'm so glad I did. Because, like I said, I LOVED THIS BOOK.

I happened to mention this to Sam when I was about halfway through reading. His response was, “Isn’t it just a romantic comedy?” No, no it was not. I guess there was a smidge of possible romance, but it certainly wasn't the focus; and it was more depressive than anything that could be categorized as any kind of comedy, although it wasn't depressing. And it wasn't a beach read, although I could definitely imagine reading it on a beach. (That said, I bet I could read just about anything on a beach.) And it wasn't chick lit; the heroine wasn't plucky enough, and wasn't very heroic, either. And it wasn't Women's Fiction, because that category just sounds like an insult. 

Those are all the things it isn't. So, what is it? It's the story of Sophie Pattison, whose formerly pretty okay life has crumbled around her ears. She's quietly sad about recent turns of events, but she continues to go about what's left of her existence, which now mainly consists of two things: going to work, and curling up in a ball by herself at home. But right now work is actually not so bad: she's just been (sort of) promoted, and is now in charge of putting together the local book festival. There's a bunch of name-dropping (real authors who have come to past events or are scheduled to come to this one) which is fun for any book-lover to read about, although as early as page five I shriveled a bit inside: "Ann Patchett talked a lot on podcasts and at events about how people think they know her, thanks to the essays, and (jokingly) whatever pheromone she's giving off that makes them feel like they're best friends or would be best friends if they ever met in real life." Indeed I have imagined that Ann Patchett and I would be friends if we ever met in real life. I mean not really. But kind of. Though, speaking of which, there is an author--The Author--who Sophie feels a strong connection to. Someone whose words make Sophie feel heard and understood. Someone who could be Sophie's best friend if they ever met in real life.

I identified strongly with Sophie as I read; I suppose we bonded over our love of books. I felt her quiet satisfaction when things were going well. I felt her humiliation and shame when things were not. Without really thinking about it, I thought of Sophie as a representation of author Meg Mason. But about thirty minutes after I finished reading the book, something hit me. Meg Mason is the author. Is she more like The Author than like Sophie?? I was kind of horrified by the thought. 

But I got over it. Of course I’ve already ordered a copy of Mason's previous book, Sorrow and Bliss. I was tempted to get the whole lot, but I'm not sure I’m brave enough to try You Be Mother (I was scared off by lukewarm reviews) or Say It Again in a Nice Voice. (Because, ANOTHER memoir, so soon?)