Monica Heisey’s debut novel “Really Good, Actually” is a triumph of comedic timing wrapped in a blanket of millennial existential dread. Following 29-year-old Maggie through the aftermath of her 608-day marriage, Heisey delivers a story that feels both painfully specific and universally relatable. With sharp dialogue, cringe-worthy moments, and unexpected tenderness, this novel offers an honest portrayal of what it means to rebuild your life when your carefully constructed future crumbles.
The Art of the Twentysomething Divorce
Maggie is an adjunct professor and PhD candidate studying early modern theatre who finds herself divorced before she hits 30. The novel brilliantly chronicles her first year of single life as she attempts to navigate her new identity as a “Surprisingly Young Divorcée™.” What sets this book apart is Heisey’s refusal to cast Maggie as either victim or villain. Instead, she presents a protagonist who is gloriously, catastrophically human—one who sends regrettable late-night texts, stalks her ex via their cat’s Instagram account, and tries desperately to convince everyone (including herself) that she’s “actually doing great.”
The book’s structure mimics Maggie’s emotional journey, interspersing traditional narrative with text messages, Google search histories, unanswered emails, fantasy sequences, and lists with titles like “Reasons I Cried, 12–23 November.” These elements provide both comic relief and deeper insight into Maggie’s fractured psyche.
Strengths: Humor That Cuts to the Bone
Heisey’s background as a comedy writer for shows like “Schitt’s Creek” and “Workin’ Moms” shines through in her impeccable timing and dialogue. The humor in “Really Good, Actually” is never merely decorative—it serves as both Maggie’s shield and the reader’s window into her pain.
Some of the novel’s strongest moments include:
The friends group chat dynamics – Heisey perfectly captures the shorthand and inside jokes of long-term friendships
Maggie’s dating app adventures – From awkward first meetings to a hilariously disastrous threesome attempt at a wedding
Her therapist sessions – Particularly the list of “Emotionally Devastating Things My Therapist Said to Me Like They Were Nothing”
The unsent emails and text messages – Revealing the chasm between what Maggie wants to say and what she actually says
The novel also excels in its portrayal of the digital age’s impact on relationships and breakups. Maggie’s obsessive online behavior—from creating new accounts to view her ex’s stories to late-night Twitter spirals—reflects how social media has complicated the already difficult process of moving on.
A Supporting Cast That Shines
Heisey populates Maggie’s world with a cast of supporting characters who feel fully realized rather than merely functional:
The friend group – Amirah, Clive, and the two Laurens (one emotional, one not) provide both support and reality checks
Amy – A fellow divorcée whose apocalyptic anger offers Maggie a different model of post-marriage existence
Merris – Maggie’s academic advisor whose tough love provides some of the book’s most insightful moments
Simon – A potential new love interest whose normalcy and emotional intelligence both attract and terrify Maggie
Each character serves as a mirror reflecting different aspects of Maggie’s situation, offering contrasting approaches to relationships, career, and self-worth.
When Narcissism Meets Vulnerability
If the novel has a weakness, it might be Maggie’s occasionally exhausting self-absorption. Her spiral of self-pity sometimes tests the reader’s patience—but that’s precisely the point. Heisey has created a character whose flaws aren’t neatly packaged or easily resolved. Instead, we see Maggie at her most insufferable, her most pathetic, and her most human.
What saves the character from becoming tiresome is Heisey’s willingness to let Maggie be wrong. Unlike many protagonists in contemporary fiction who are merely misunderstood, Maggie frequently makes terrible choices and has genuinely problematic thoughts. Her journey isn’t about being validated but about learning to recognize her own patterns.
This self-awareness emerges gradually through her therapy sessions with Helen, one of the book’s most compelling relationships. Through these exchanges, Heisey explores deeper questions about identity, self-knowledge, and what it means to be “normal”:
“I want to know what kind of stuff to want. I want to not be completely embarrassed by this activity and most other things I do in a day. I want my tortellini to cook faster.”
The Millennial Experience Captured
The novel brilliantly captures the specific anxieties of millennial existence: the unattainable housing market, the precarity of academic employment, the pressure to define oneself through social media, and the generational expectation that one should be simultaneously successful, politically engaged, and emotionally well-adjusted.
Maggie’s complaints about “sliding barn doors on bathrooms” and her belief that “late capitalism” is responsible for everything from air travel discomfort to her failed marriage encapsulate a generation’s tendency to intellectualize personal struggles. Yet Heisey treats these moments with knowing humor rather than dismissal.
Areas That Could Be Stronger
While the novel’s episodic structure effectively mirrors Maggie’s chaotic emotional state, it occasionally results in narrative momentum issues, particularly in the middle sections. Some readers might find themselves wishing for a more tightly constructed plot to propel them through Maggie’s year of self-discovery.
Additionally, the resolution feels slightly rushed compared to the detailed examination of Maggie’s breakdown. After spending so much time in the depths of her despair, we get relatively little time with the more self-aware version of her that emerges at the end.
A Fresh Voice in Contemporary Fiction
What distinguishes Heisey’s debut from other millennial novels is its refusal to offer easy answers or trendy solutions. There’s no magical meditation practice, no perfect new relationship, no sudden career breakthrough that saves Maggie. Instead, her path forward is messy, incremental, and ongoing—much like real recovery.
The novel’s best moments come when Maggie confronts the disconnect between how she presents herself and how she actually feels:
“I tapped the message so a little thumbs-up appeared and went back to bed.”
This simple repetition perfectly captures the gap between intention and action that characterizes so much of modern communication.
Final Verdict: A Memorable Debut
“Really Good, Actually” is a sharply observed, frequently hilarious, and deeply moving exploration of what happens when the life you planned disappears. Heisey has created a protagonist who is simultaneously infuriating and endearing—a woman caught between self-awareness and self-delusion who is trying, imperfectly but earnestly, to figure out who she is without the relationship that defined her adult life.
For readers who enjoyed Sally Rooney’s “Normal People,” Dolly Alderton’s “Ghosts,” or Raven Leilani’s “Luster,” Heisey’s debut offers a similar blend of contemporary insights, uncomfortable truths, and linguistic precision. While its humor places it alongside comedic writers like Samantha Irby or Sloane Crosley, its emotional depth and character development reveal a novelist with serious literary ambitions.
In an era where “authenticity” has become a buzzword emptied of meaning, Heisey offers something genuinely authentic: a messy, contradictory protagonist who doesn’t always learn the right lessons but keeps trying anyway. By the novel’s end, when Maggie signs her divorce papers and notes that “Later that day I would do something else,” we believe in her capacity for growth—not because she’s achieved some dramatic transformation, but because she’s finally learned to live in the present tense.
The Verdict
Strengths:
Razor-sharp dialogue and humor
Innovative structural elements
Authentic portrayal of millennial anxieties
Complex, flawed protagonist
Weaknesses:
Occasionally repetitive middle section
Some narrative momentum issues
Slightly rushed resolution
For anyone who has ever experienced heartbreak, identity crisis, or the peculiar loneliness of living in the digital age, “Really Good, Actually” offers both catharsis and company. Heisey has announced herself as a novelist to watch—one with the rare ability to make us laugh out loud while quietly breaking our hearts.