Candice Carty-Williams' 2019 novel, QUEENIE, was one of those books that kind of snuck up on you. What at first might have felt like a fairly quiet debut publication quickly grew, thanks to word of mouth. Its account of a twenty-something Black woman navigating love, friendship and professional drama in London definitely struck a chord.

Seven years later, it feels like we're overdue to check in with Queenie Jenkins again and see how she's doing. The answer? Meh. Sure, she's landed at a much more fulfilling place in her career, working as the editorial director at a media network committed to amplifying Black women's voices. And she continues to be buoyed by the love of her dedicated (and endlessly patient) circle of friends. She has stopped drinking and even has an ongoing situationship with an attractive Black man --- a far cry from the parade of white boyfriends who dominated her early 20s.

"[Queenie is] a bundle of contradictions, worries, hopes and fears. It all makes her feel like a very real person indeed, like your best friend who's always on the verge of a breakdown even as she's being the life of the party."

But those same friends all seem to be settling down, getting married and having children, while Queenie is pretty sure that her hookup is also hooking up with someone else on the side. As for her work life, she's surrounded by smart, capable Black women, but she sometimes feels like her younger colleagues are judging her, and she's coming up short. And she still has plenty of unresolved issues with her mother, with whom she's barely maintaining a relationship. Finally, there's the lingering questions of what could have been with Frank, the one-time love of her life. Three years after their breakup, he seems to have moved on --- but maybe, if she's being honest with herself, she hasn't just yet.

Things come to a head when, in the context of researching a story about inequities in Black women's reproductive medical care, Queenie learns that at age 33 she already may have missed her chance to have a baby. Queenie wouldn't be Queenie without a little spiraling, and this time she threatens to bring down her whole friend group with her. She embarks on a self-improvement odyssey, a “sex grid” comparing baby daddy candidates, and a probably ill-advised collab with her former employer on a special project for Black History Month. 

If all this sounds like there's a lot going on in QUEENIE IS WORKING ON IT, you're right. But that's part of what makes Queenie so appealing and relatable. She vacillates between inserting herself as the main character in everyone else's story and feeling like fading into the background. She revels in her own desirability but can't quite believe she's worthy of actual love. In short, she's a bundle of contradictions, worries, hopes and fears. It all makes her feel like a very real person indeed, like your best friend who's always on the verge of a breakdown even as she's being the life of the party. 

By the end of the novel, Queenie might not have worked everything out, but she's well on her way. And readers will be cheering her on.