Emma Tourtelot is the coauthor of eight nonfiction books and magazine columnist. After providing sex advice for almost two decades as one half of the writing duo Em & Lo, she is now a middle school librarian.
No One You Know
Emma Tourtelot
She Writes Press, 2026, $20
Moving to a small town in Dutchess County can be catalyzed by tangible ideals—proximity to nature, local food sources, a simpler lifestyle. What might seem novel at first can parlay into a genuine irritant, like the twisty racetrack that is the Taconic Parkway. It is here that Emma Tourtelot launches her novel, No One You Know, specifically the stonewalled section of the road just south of Route 84 that invariably feels like a death-defying drive, even more so with any sort of precipitation. A prologue describing this act foreshadows the main event that drapes ponderously over the novel, the death by car accident of young Maddy, soul mate to Indie.
Indie’s mom, Kate, is a real estate broker and occasional book reviewer for a regional magazine. (I confess that while reading this, I had a meta moment as a book reviewer for a regional magazine.) She also has a blog, If You Lived Here, which acts as both a promotional vehicle for her trade (she starts each entry with a property listing precis) and a sideways critique of the lifestyle amid which she is surrounded. Readers’ comments keep her in line, checking her privilege and blinkered view; her replies and mea culpas smooth over the frictions that invariably arise. Husband Ethan has slipped more easily into the community as a teacher at the school their daughter Indie attends.
As if Indie’s deep grief isn’t enough for the teen to handle, Kate offers to list Maddy’s father’s inherited house. It needs some TLC, so Kate winds up helping the Chief (he’s the local firehouse captain) with interior painting, which leads him to give her an impromptu kiss, arising from emotion and exhaustion. He confesses to his wife, and soon the entire town is aware of the transgression. But rather than placing blame on the beloved Chief, father of the tragically killed Maddy, all accusations target Kate. Like dominos falling, the heavy guilt, shame, and blame drags on susceptible Indie, already nearing rock bottom emotionally, and on Kate’s marriage.
Gossip may travel like wildfire if you have a child in the local school system, or for the purposes of moving a story forward. What Tourtelot does not stint on is documenting the real grief endured by Indie after the loss of her best friend. Indie tries to erase herself by repeating philosophical platitudes about becoming one with the universe. She shaves her head, and somehow disposes of all of her possessions while her parents are otherwise occupied. Worst of all, she begins to follow the videos of The Guy, a charismatic soothsayer in contemporary trappings who charges $500 a pop for tickets to his seminar in New York City. Of course, Indie bites, saving up her tired dollar bills. And, of course, the Guy sniffs her out as a vulnerable kid just waiting to be exploited, and pounces.
Her preoccupied parents are already ostracized by Indie, who barely responds when they knock on her bedroom door, refusing food as well. By the time they notice she’s missing, she’s well on her way to New York. With help from Indie’s friend Asher, her mom tracks her down. At nearly 400 pages, the book feels long at times, but in its length, Tourtelot captures the prolonged angst of being a traumatized teenager. To one who lives in a small town, the speed at which gossip travels through the small community seems exaggerated, more “scarlet letter” than a modern rural town full of residents seeking space. But the grief felt throughout is like a seam of black ore that both fuels and scars the town. And always, we’re pulling for Indie, even at her teenage worst.
