Some literary characters deserve an encore, and Rocky—the sharp-tongued, endearingly neurotic narrator of Catherine Newman’s 2024 hit “Sandwich”—is undoubtedly one of them. In “Wreck,” Newman proves that second helpings can be just as satisfying as the original, delivering a sequel that stands on its own while deepening our connection to a character who feels like an old friend.

Two years have passed since we last visited Rocky during that memorable Cape Cod vacation, squeezed between her aging parents and adult children, navigating the turbulent waters of menopause and family secrets. Now back in western Massachusetts, Rocky faces new challenges that test her characteristically witty resilience. The title refers not to real estate but to Rocky’s own state of being after a frightening health scare and a local tragedy upend her carefully maintained equilibrium.

Newman’s greatest strength lies in her ability to blend humor with heartache, creating a narrative that feels both entertaining and emotionally authentic. When Rocky discovers a spreading rash in the middle of a sleepless night, she makes the classic mistake of consulting Dr. Google, launching herself into an increasingly alarming medical odyssey. Simultaneously, news of a former classmate of her son’s—killed in a train collision—sends ripples through the community and Rocky’s psyche, raising disturbing questions about corporate negligence and human vulnerability.

The novel’s plot is admittedly thin, but that’s hardly the point. Newman has crafted something more valuable: a meditation on life’s impermanence wrapped in the warm blanket of domestic comedy. Rocky continues her work-from-home career writing what she cheerfully acknowledges are trivial lifestyle articles, serving up hilarious observations about juice bar menu absurdities and healthcare frustrations. Her unsent angry emails to editors—which readers get to enjoy before Rocky wisely deletes them—are comedy gold.

Newman channels Nora Ephron at her best, finding universal truths in specific domestic moments. Her description of memory loss is particularly brilliant: Rocky’s father struggling to recall a name evokes that feeling of being “on my mental hands and knees, flailing around under the couch of my mind with a hockey stick,” only to dredge up random mental detritus instead of the sought-after information. Such images transform common experiences into something fresh and memorable.

The household Rocky presides over feels like an updated sitcom family, complete with morning coffee rituals and nightly dinners. But Newman subverts those mid-century tropes in essential ways. Rocky’s husband Nick remains supportive, her 92-year-old father has moved in after his wife’s death, and her anxious daughter Willa has returned home while applying to neuroscience PhD programs. Unlike those sanitized TV moms, however, Rocky is a regular at the local marijuana dispensary—though not all of her stoner adventures hit the mark.

Where Newman occasionally stumbles is in her tendency toward sentimentality. Rocky describes herself as “almost pathologically empathic,” with “an undammable river of mother love,” and during woodland walks and family cuddles, that river threatens to overflow. Phrases like “this moment, here, with my beautiful daughter in the beautiful world” toe the line between touching and treacly. Yet even these saccharine moments feel earned, recognizable to anyone who has experienced the overwhelming love and protectiveness parents feel for their children.

“Wreck” proves funnier than its predecessor while also more earnestly grappling with mortality and change. It’s a novel animated not by dramatic plot twists but by wit, warmth, and worry—the daily texture of a life lived with attention and care. While the book can certainly stand alone, readers who loved “Sandwich” will find this return visit deeply satisfying. Newman has created a character worth following through multiple volumes, someone who makes us laugh while reminding us of what matters most: the people we love, the moments we share, and the grace we can find in life’s beautiful, terrifying impermanence.

For anyone seeking intelligent comfort reading that doesn’t insult your intelligence, “Wreck” delivers exactly what we need: a wise, funny companion through uncertain times.

Maria A Perdomo