A Review of Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers

In Honey Girl Morgan Rogers explores themes of institutionalized racism in higher education, and societal, personal, and parental expectations. The novel follows Grace Porter, who has a freshly acquired PhD, a brooding tri-life crisis, and the foggy memory of marrying a stranger in Las Vegas when she was drunk. Despite her uncharacteristically impulsively marriage, Grace doesn’t rush to annul it; instead, she uses her marriage as an escape as she struggles with her mental health and a job market that doesn’t seem to have a place for her. As the story progresses, Grace balances the relationships in her life as she learns about her own boundaries and needs.

One of the strengths of Honey Girl is its cast of characters. Grace does not have a single group of friends that follow her everywhere like a sitcom ensemble. As Grace changes settings, the people around her change too. I appreciate this because one of my pet peeves is when a protagonist attends classes with a handful of people, who also coincidently live in the same building and work at the same establishment as the protagonist, becoming essentially accessories. Instead, Grace realistically has a different group of friends in Portland and New York, as well as separate work friends. This serves the plot well. Not only does it allow the reader to meet many fleshed out characters with diverse gender identities, ethnic backgrounds, and sexual orientations, but it also contributes to the sense of burnout and frenzy, as Grace has social and emotional obligations to so many people. The world of Honey Girl feels full. Even when it is not explicitly described, I imagine the bustling streets on New York and Portland because Rogers establishes early on that Grace is surrounded by people. In this way, Rogers avoids another common romance trope—that of the romantic leads always being alone, longing for each other in some miraculously unpopulated area.

Toward the end of the book, Grace seeks a therapist. While this isn’t an uncommon situation in fiction, I had never seen a portrayed the way it is in Honey Girl. Grace visits a few different therapists, moving on when someone isn’t a good fit for her. This is a marker of growth for Grace, as it shows she is ready to better her mental health, and she is confident enough in her understanding of herself to know when a therapist won’t meet her needs. I found this really refreshing. When I think of the therapists I have seen portrayed in literature, TV, and movies, I think of characters instantly connecting with their therapist, or begrudgingly going to appointments despite a lack of connection. I had never thought about this before reading Honey Girl, but it makes sense to portray “the search” for a therapist in fiction, as that can often be a daunting part of committing to a mental health wellness plan.

While I enjoy the variety in Grace’s relationships—some characters are described as chosen family, others as close friends, and some are new, budding friendships—I found myself wanting more of an understanding of Grace’s wife, Yuki. Yuki is a waitress by day and a radio host and monster hunter by night. While it is clear that Yuki is creative, intelligent, and romantic, I wondered how characteristic or uncharacteristic the sudden marriage was for her. I would also have liked to have seen Grace and Yuki’s initial meeting, as it would have given insight on the bond they have. At the end of the book, Yuki still felt like a stranger to me. It’s true that Yuki and Grace don’t know each other very long, but at one point, they do live together and presumably get to know each better. I would have liked to have felt like I was learning about Yuki as Grace was.

While it didn’t take up much of the word count, as a self-proclaimed sea monster lover, I am compelled to mention how excited I was when the Lake Champlain monster, Champy, made an “appearance” in this book. As someone who has gone monster hunting for Champy and written him into my own fiction, I was excited to see Yuki in action. I wanted to see how much work Yuki put into researching monsters, and perhaps see her interview locals, or maybe even locate Champy landmarks that they must have been around. I felt like this was a moment for Yuki’s personality to shine and to show her knowledge of mythology and history. Instead of seeing a different side of Yuki, the characters sat by the lake and she spoke beautifully and poetically, as she did for the duration of the book, but nothing she said couldn’t have been said back in her studio. Regardless, I still enjoyed “seeing” Champy in this book!

Honey Girl is a joy to read. It’s full of strong, well-developed characters who are funny, fun and kind. It handles topics of mental health empathetically and shows both the relief and stress that can come with diagnosis and treatment. It is a book I have no doubt I will reread.