Who Is The Main Character In 'Only Mostly Devastated'?

The protagonist in 'Mostly Dead Things' is Jessa-Lynn Morton, a woman grappling with grief and identity after her father’s suicide leaves her in charge of their family’s taxidermy shop. Jessa is tough but vulnerable, using dark humor as armor while navigating her fractured relationships—her mother’s surreal art projects, her brother’s emotional withdrawal, and her own unspoken love for her late father’s best friend. The novel paints her as a raw, messy figure, stitching together life and death both literally (through taxidermy) and metaphorically. What makes Jessa unforgettable is her flawed humanity. She’s not a hero but a survivor, wrestling with queerness, family legacy, and the grotesque beauty of preserving the past. Her voice is sharp yet poetic, turning mundane details—like the smell of formaldehyde or the weight of a deer carcass—into visceral metaphors for loss. Kristen Arnett’s writing makes Jessa feel like someone you’ve known forever, even when she’s breaking your heart.

The protagonist of 'Almost Surely Dead' is Dunia Ahmed, a woman who finds her life spiraling into chaos after surviving a harrowing attack. The novel blends psychological suspense with supernatural elements, and Dunia's journey is gripping because she's not just a victim—she's an investigator piecing together the eerie coincidences around her. What I love about her character is how relatable her vulnerabilities are, yet she pushes forward with this quiet resilience. The way the author crafts her internal monologue makes you feel like you're unraveling the mystery alongside her. Dunia's background as a pharmacist adds such a cool layer to her character. It's not often you see STEM professionals thrust into paranormal thrillers, and her analytical mind clashes fascinatingly with the unexplainable events haunting her. The book also delves into her cultural identity (she’s Bangladeshi-American), which shapes her reactions to the unfolding terror. It’s refreshing to see a suspense lead who isn’t just another detective or journalist—her ordinary profession makes the extraordinary plot even more unsettling.

I picked up 'Only Mostly Devastated' on a whim after seeing it recommended in a bookish Discord server, and I’m so glad I did. The story’s blend of humor and heartache hit me right in the feels. Ollie’s voice is so authentic—it’s like listening to a friend vent over milkshakes. The way Sophie Gonzales writes about messy, imperfect love and self-discovery resonated deeply with me, especially the small-town dynamics and the pressure to conform. What really stood out was how the book balances lighthearted moments with heavier themes. The supporting cast, like Ollie’s cousin and his new friends, add layers to the story without feeling like filler. If you enjoyed 'What If It’s Us' or 'Red, White & Royal Blue,' this has a similar vibe but with its own quirky charm. I finished it in one sitting and immediately wanted to annotate my favorite pages.

The heart of 'Absolutely Almost' is Albie, this wonderfully ordinary kid who feels anything but special in a world that keeps telling him he should be. He's not the smartest in class, not the best at sports, and his parents are kinda wrapped up in their own stuff, but his journey is all about learning that 'almost' doesn't mean 'not enough.' What I love is how his babysitter, Calista, becomes this quiet champion for him—she sees his doodles, listens to his weird questions, and makes him feel valued. It's a story that gut-punches you with how much small moments of kindness matter. Lisa Graff wrote Albie with this awkward honesty that makes you cringe-laugh at his mishaps (like the disastrous spelling bee). But beneath the humor, there's this raw truth about kids measuring themselves against impossible standards. The book doesn't magically fix Albie's insecurities—it just lets him stumble toward realizing his own worth. Reminds me of those middle-grade gems like 'Wonder' or 'Fish in a Tree,' where the 'flaws' are actually doorways to something deeper.

The ending of 'Only Mostly Devastated' wraps up Ollie and Will’s rollercoaster romance in a way that feels both satisfying and true to their messy, authentic journey. After spending the summer together, Ollie moves back home, leaving Will behind—but their connection lingers. Will, who’s been struggling with his sexuality and fear of coming out, finally confronts his insecurities. The book’s climax is a heartfelt prom scene where Will publicly acknowledges Ollie, defying his own fears and the expectations of his friends. It’s not a fairy-tale perfection, though; there’s tension and awkwardness, which makes it feel real. What I love is how Sophie Gonzales nails the balance between growth and realism. Ollie doesn’t just wait around—he’s hurt, he’s skeptical, but he also gives Will space to figure himself out. The ending isn’t about grand gestures but small, meaningful steps. They don’t magically fix everything, but they choose to try, and that’s what makes it resonate. Plus, the supporting characters get their moments too, like Lara’s quiet rebellion and Jules’ unwavering loyalty. It’s a reminder that love stories don’t exist in vacuums—they’re tangled up in friendships, family, and self-discovery.

If you loved the sweet, messy charm of 'Only Mostly Devastated', you gotta check out 'What If It’s Us' by Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera. It’s got that same blend of awkward, heart-fluttering romance and genuine emotional depth, but with a NYC summer backdrop that adds its own magic. Another gem is 'Heartstopper' by Alice Oseman—both the graphic novels and the Netflix adaptation capture that tender, coming-of-age vibe with a side of adorable queer pining. For something a bit more introspective, 'The Music of What Happens' by Bill Konigsberg nails the balance between lighthearted banter and heavier themes, kind of like how 'Only Mostly Devastated' tackles family stuff alongside the romance.

The main character in 'All of Our Demise' is a fascinating figure who really stuck with me after reading. At first glance, they might seem like your typical protagonist, but as the story unfolds, their layers peel back to reveal someone deeply flawed yet incredibly compelling. Their journey isn’t just about external battles but also the internal struggles that make them feel so real. It’s rare to find a character who balances vulnerability and strength in such a raw way. What I love most is how their relationships with the supporting cast shape their growth. The dynamic with their rivals isn’t just black-and-white—there’s this delicious gray area where loyalty and betrayal blur. By the end, I wasn’t just rooting for them; I felt like I’d lived through their choices alongside them. That’s the mark of a truly memorable lead.

Ollie's departure in 'Only Mostly Devastated' hit me hard because it felt so real. At first, I thought it was just about summer ending and him going back home, but it’s deeper than that. The book subtly shows how Ollie struggles with feeling like an outsider in Will’s world—his friends, his town, even the expectations around them. It’s not just geography; it’s emotional distance. He leaves because staying would mean pretending he fits into a life that wasn’t built for someone like him, and that’s a quiet kind of heartbreak the story captures beautifully. What really got me was how the author didn’t make it a dramatic blowout. Ollie doesn’t storm off; he just… fades away, like he’s already halfway gone. It mirrors how queer kids often leave spaces where they don’t feel seen, even if they love the people there. The book nails that bittersweet ache of choosing yourself over a love that might not be enough.