{"id":3660,"date":"2025-07-25T02:39:15","date_gmt":"2025-07-25T02:39:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=3660"},"modified":"2025-07-25T02:39:15","modified_gmt":"2025-07-25T02:39:15","slug":"first-time-long-time-by-amy-silverberg","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=3660","title":{"rendered":"First Time, Long Time by Amy Silverberg"},"content":{"rendered":"

Amy Silverberg\u2019s debut novel First Time, Long Time<\/strong> arrives with the promise of examining what happens when a young woman becomes entangled with a famous older man\u2014and then, unexpectedly, with his daughter. The premise alone suggests the kind of tangled emotional terrain that makes for compelling fiction, but Silverberg\u2019s execution proves both her greatest strength and most glaring weakness.<\/p>\n

The novel follows Allison, a twenty-something aspiring writer teaching at a Los Angeles community college while moonlighting as a book club facilitator for wealthy Beverly Hills women. Still reeling from her brother\u2019s sudden death two years prior, she drifts through life feeling perpetually displaced\u2014until a chance encounter with Reid Steinman, a famous radio shock jock who was her father\u2019s idol, pulls her into an intoxicating orbit of celebrity and desire.<\/p>\n

A Voice That Cuts Both Ways<\/h2>\n

Silverberg, who holds a PhD from USC and has published in prestigious venues like The Paris Review<\/strong> and Granta<\/strong>, demonstrates considerable skill in capturing Allison\u2019s sardonic, self-aware voice. The prose crackles with observations that feel both fresh and painfully accurate: \u201cI took in every piece of news like it had been planned with only me in mind,\u201d<\/strong><\/em> Allison notes, encapsulating the narcissistic spiral of grief and self-doubt that defines much of her journey.<\/p>\n

The author\u2019s background in stand-up comedy (she was selected as a \u201cNew Face\u201d at Montreal\u2019s Just for Laughs festival) clearly influences her writing style. Silverberg excels at finding humor in darkness, much like her protagonist who teaches classes with quips like \u201cI could prescribe a book for whatever ails you\u2014I\u2019m like a book doctor that way.\u201d<\/strong><\/em> This comedic sensibility provides necessary levity to what could otherwise become an oppressively heavy narrative about loss, sexual identity, and the complications of desire.<\/p>\n

The Reid Problem<\/h2>\n

Where the novel stumbles most significantly is in its portrayal of Reid Steinman, clearly inspired by Howard Stern (as Silverberg acknowledges in her acknowledgments). Reid never transcends his status as a thinly veiled celebrity caricature. While Silverberg succeeds in making him simultaneously charismatic and repulsive\u2014a man who can be tender with Allison while engaging in degrading radio segments\u2014he remains frustratingly opaque as a character.<\/p>\n

The power dynamics at play feel underexplored. Allison\u2019s attraction to Reid seems rooted more in his fame and her father\u2019s approval than in any genuine connection, yet the novel doesn\u2019t interrogate this dynamic with the depth it deserves. When Reid dismisses Allison\u2019s book club work as beneath her talents\u2014despite never having read her writing\u2014it reveals a fundamental disrespect that the narrative acknowledges but doesn\u2019t fully reckon with.<\/p>\n

Emma: The Heart of the Matter<\/h2>\n

The novel finds its emotional center when Emma, Reid\u2019s daughter, enters the picture. Emma is everything the book promises: sharp, funny, and magnetically complex. Her relationship with Allison develops with a naturalism that the Reid storyline lacks. Their text exchanges and late-night conversations feel authentic in ways that Allison\u2019s interactions with Reid often don\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Silverberg writes Emma\u2019s comedy career with insider knowledge, avoiding the tired clich\u00e9s often associated with female comedians in fiction. Emma\u2019s material about her divorced parents\u2014where she never mentions her father\u2019s fame\u2014demonstrates Silverberg\u2019s understanding of how comedy can serve as both armor and weapon. The scenes where Allison watches Emma\u2019s stand-up videos repeatedly suggest an obsession that transcends mere sexual attraction.<\/p>\n

The Weight of Grief<\/h2>\n

The novel\u2019s strongest thread follows Allison\u2019s ongoing struggle with her brother Jack\u2019s death. Silverberg handles grief with remarkable honesty, avoiding both sentimentality and neat resolution. Jack appears throughout the narrative not as a saint but as a fully realized person whose absence creates a specific shape in Allison\u2019s life.<\/p>\n

The flashbacks to their shared experiences\u2014particularly their work at a grief camp for children at Lake Tahoe\u2014provide some of the book\u2019s most moving moments. Silverberg\u2019s depiction of how grief can make someone simultaneously numb and hypersensitive rings painfully true: \u201cThe grief had made my need impossible, an ever-deepening pit.\u201d<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

Sexual Identity and Self-Discovery<\/h2>\n

As an LGBTQ+ narrative, the novel succeeds in portraying sexual fluidity as messy and non-linear. Allison\u2019s discovery of her attraction to women doesn\u2019t follow a tidy coming-out trajectory. Instead, Silverberg presents sexuality as one element in a larger pattern of self-discovery\u2014complicated by grief, family expectations, and the desire for authenticity.<\/p>\n

The novel\u2019s approach to bisexuality feels refreshingly matter-of-fact. When Allison tells her childhood friend Marcella about her attraction to women, Marcella\u2019s response\u2014\u201cWill it hurt your feelings if I don\u2019t act surprised?\u201d<\/strong><\/em>\u2014suggests that others often see us more clearly than we see ourselves.<\/p>\n

The Los Angeles Setting<\/h2>\n

Silverberg\u2019s Los Angeles feels authentic and lived-in, from the community college where Allison teaches to the Korean spa where she has revelatory conversations with strangers. The city serves as more than backdrop; it becomes a character that reflects Allison\u2019s emotional state. LA\u2019s reputation as a place where people reinvent themselves mirrors Allison\u2019s own attempts at transformation.<\/p>\n

The book club scenes, featuring wealthy Beverly Hills women discussing literature while projecting their own anxieties, provide both comic relief and social commentary. These women, with their casual cruelty disguised as concern (\u201cYou\u2019re a woman approaching thirty. Seeing\u2019s not enough\u201d<\/strong><\/em>), represent the societal pressure Allison feels to settle into conventional relationships.<\/p>\n

Technical Craft and Pacing Issues<\/h2>\n

While Silverberg\u2019s prose style generally serves the story well, the novel suffers from pacing problems that become more pronounced in its second half. The middle section, where Allison attempts to maintain relationships with both Reid and Emma, feels repetitive. The emotional stakes, while high for Allison, don\u2019t translate into sufficient narrative tension for the reader.<\/p>\n

The novel\u2019s structure, jumping between time periods and perspectives, sometimes feels arbitrary rather than purposeful. Certain scenes\u2014particularly those involving Allison\u2019s parents\u2014feel underdeveloped, as if Silverberg couldn\u2019t decide how much space to give these supporting characters.<\/p>\n

The Ending\u2019s Complications<\/h2>\n

Without spoiling specific plot points, the novel\u2019s conclusion attempts to wrap up multiple storylines in ways that feel both rushed and inevitable. Silverberg makes bold choices about her characters\u2019 fates, but some of these choices feel driven more by plot mechanics than emotional truth. The final chapters sprint toward resolution in ways that don\u2019t quite earn their emotional weight.<\/p>\n

Literary Comparisons and Context<\/h2>\n

First Time, Long Time<\/strong> invites comparison to works by Emma Cline and Melissa Broder, as suggested by its marketing copy. Like Cline\u2019s The Girls<\/strong>, it explores the dangerous allure of charismatic older figures and the ways young women can lose themselves in others\u2019 narratives. However, where Cline maintains tight control over her narrative\u2019s psychological realism, Silverberg\u2019s novel feels more sprawling and less focused.<\/p>\n

The book also recalls recent LGBTQ+ coming-of-age narratives like Carmen Maria Machado\u2019s Her Body and Other Parties<\/strong><\/a> and Kristen Arnett\u2019s Mostly Dead Things<\/strong>, though it lacks the stylistic innovation of the former and the sustained emotional depth of the latter.<\/p>\n

Cultural Resonance and Timeliness<\/h2>\n

In an era of increased awareness about power dynamics in relationships, First Time, Long Time<\/strong> feels both timely and occasionally dated. The novel\u2019s portrayal of Reid\u2019s radio show\u2014with its crude sexual content and casual misogyny\u2014reads as a relic of a previous era, which may be intentional but creates tonal inconsistencies with the more contemporary elements of Allison\u2019s story.<\/p>\n

The book\u2019s exploration of how famous men\u2019s charisma can obscure their fundamental selfishness<\/a> remains relevant, though Silverberg could have pushed this critique further.<\/p>\n

Verdict: A Promising but Flawed Debut<\/h2>\n

First Time, Long Time<\/strong> succeeds as a character study of a young woman finding her voice and identity amid the wreckage of loss and desire<\/a>. Silverberg\u2019s writing demonstrates genuine talent, particularly in her ability to find humor in pain and her skill at creating authentic dialogue. The novel\u2019s greatest strength lies in its refusal to offer easy answers about sexuality, grief, or the nature of authentic relationships.<\/p>\n

However, the book\u2019s structural problems and uneven character development prevent it from achieving the impact it clearly aspires to reach. Reid remains more symbol than person, and the novel\u2019s pacing issues create momentum problems that persist throughout.<\/p>\n

For readers interested in messy, honest portrayals of young women navigating complicated desires<\/a>, First Time, Long Time<\/strong> offers enough insight and genuine emotion to justify the reading experience. It\u2019s a novel that succeeds more in its individual moments than as a complete whole\u2014much like its protagonist, who excels at observing life\u2019s absurdities while struggling to create coherence from her own experiences.<\/p>\n

Recommendations for Similar Reads<\/h2>\n

Readers who appreciate Silverberg\u2019s blend of humor and pathos might enjoy:<\/p>\n

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo<\/strong><\/a> by Taylor Jenkins Reid \u2013 for its exploration of sexuality and fame
\nRed at the Bone<\/strong> by Jacqueline Woodson \u2013 for its nuanced family dynamics and coming-of-age elements
\nReal Life<\/strong> by Brandon Taylor \u2013 for its honest portrayal of desire and self-discovery
\nThe Female Persuasion<\/strong> by Meg Wolitzer \u2013 for its examination of mentorship and power dynamics
\nNormal People<\/strong> by Sally Rooney \u2013 for its complex relationship dynamics and emotional authenticity<\/p>\n

First Time, Long Time<\/strong> establishes Amy Silverberg as a writer worth watching, even if this particular effort doesn\u2019t fully deliver on its considerable promise. Her next work will be worth anticipating, hopefully with tighter plotting and more fully realized secondary characters to match her evident gift for voice and emotional truth.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Amy Silverberg\u2019s debut novel First Time, Long Time arrives with the promise of examining what happens when a young woman becomes entangled with a famous older man\u2014and then, unexpectedly, with his daughter. The premise alone suggests the kind of tangled emotional terrain that makes for compelling fiction, but Silverberg\u2019s execution proves both her greatest strength […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3660","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-bookreviews"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3660"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3660"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3660\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3660"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3660"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3660"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}