Somewhere between a slice-of-life in space and an existential musing about our place in the universe, this book unfortunately fell into the “more style than substance” category for me, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like the vibes. Harvey’s prose here is wandering and flowery—sometimes saccharinely so—but when it didn’t step into excessive sentimentality or overindulgent lists, I found this novel genuinely heartfelt, contemplative, and brimming with hope. If you’re looking for strong plot or characters, you won’t find it here, but I enjoyed the general atmosphere this book crafted and I think it’d resonate with the romantics who love space.