Underhill’s fantastic debut Always the Almost follows Miles, a sixteen-year-old trans pianist who has two goals for the New Year: to get back his ex-boyfriend Shane and to finally win at the Midwest’s biggest classical piano competition and beat his slimy archnemesis. But there are some slight issues with both goals. For one, Shane broke up with Miles just two weeks after he came out as trans and now Shane can’t even look at Miles. Plus, Miles’s new piano teacher is nothing short of terrifying and keeps telling him he won’t get better at playing until he knows who he is—as if that was so easy to figure out. There’s also another curveball thrown into Miles’s plans when the new boy in town, Eric Mendez, a proud queer cartoonist who cares as much about art as Miles, is turning Miles’s head. What starts out as a quick fake dating scheme to get into a couples’ party on Valentine’s Day quickly turns to more as Miles’s feelings take him for a rollercoaster ride. Can the boy who’s always felt like he’s “almost” enough—at life, at piano, at school, at being a good friend, at being queer—finally have it all?
Whew. What a mindblowing debut. At its center, this is a story about queer, and more importantly, trans joy. Yes, of course there are pitfalls and miscommunications, and a fair share of mistakes are being made but overall, Miles’s story is a victorious one. I absolutely adored following him through these pages. To see him struggle with who he was and who he is now, with how people (especially his ex-boyfriend) see him and how it affects Miles’s own understanding of self was as harrowing as it was reaffirming. Miles is trying to find himself while already knowing who he is, if that makes sense. His connection to his music, to the way it makes him feel plays a vital role that makes the prose practically sing as Miles is preparing to take down his archnemesis in the upcoming competition. Underhill manages to make this coming-of-age story feel so visceral that you’re right along for the ride, hoping everything works out for Miles.
What struck me as particularly pleasing was the focus Underhill puts on flawed characters. There aren’t real villains in this story but there aren’t flawless characters, either. Miles makes mistakes that end up hurting him as well as others, but so do his friends and other people in his life. Nevertheless, failure is always accompanied by perseverance, by trying to learn how to do better next time, which I think is such a huge part of growing up. Maturing doesn’t mean not making mistakes anymore but to learn from them and Always the Almost perfectly captures that. Plus, there’s much to be said about the concept of being “almost enough” which, as the title already states, is a huge part of Miles’s journey. While I won’t spoil anything, I will say that it’s incredibly reaffirming to see someone struggle with the idea that they’re not quite enough only to learn that they are more than enough for the right people—and for themself.
While the side characters and love interest take a while to get fully fleshed-out, once they do, the plot and the characters work together in perfect harmony. Both Miles’s attempts to reconnect with his ex as well as his slowly blossoming friendship (and eventually more) with Eric felt so natural. There is such a tenderness to Miles and Eric’s interactions that just absolutely warm your heart. I also loved how Miles’s relationships were inextricably linked to his sense of self. For example, Miles’s best friends play a huge role in Miles discovering who he is (but also that sometimes, you miss what’s really going on because you’re so focused on yourself). What’s more, even Miles’s connection to his new piano teacher and fellow competitors added so many layers of depth to an already intricately woven narrative. It all felt incredibly realistic and only made the story shine brighter.
There’s so much to love about this story that I can’t wait for readers to encounter but just know this: Miles’s coming-of-age story is as sweet as it is overwhelming, as frustrating as it is rewarding, as victorious as it is heartbreaking at times but above all, it reminds us that nothing is ever flawless—but that that might just be a good thing. It reminds us that it’s okay to make mistakes, to fail and try again and to take pride in yourself every single day.
Uplifting, filled with trans joy and a healthy heaping of existential angst, Underhill’s debut Always the Almost shines with tender self-discovery, nuanced characters, sweet prose and ends up hitting all the right notes.
Always the Almost is available from Amazon, Book Depository, and other good book retailers, like your local bookstore, as of February 14th 2023.
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Synopsis | Goodreads
A trans pianist makes a New Year’s resolution on a frozen Wisconsin night to win regionals and win back his ex, but a new boy complicates things in Edward Underhill’s heartfelt debut YA rom-dram, Always the Almost.
Sixteen-year-old trans boy Miles Jacobson has two New Year’s resolutions: 1) win back his ex-boyfriend (and star of the football team) Shane McIntyre, and 2) finally beat his slimy arch-nemesis at the Midwest’s biggest classical piano competition. But that’s not going to be so easy. For one thing, Shane broke up with Miles two weeks after Miles came out as trans, and now Shane’s stubbornly ignoring him, even when they literally bump into each other. Plus, Miles’ new, slightly terrifying piano teacher keeps telling him that he’s playing like he “doesn’t know who he is”—whatever that means.
Then Miles meets the new boy in town, Eric Mendez, a proudly queer cartoonist from Seattle who asks his pronouns, cares about art as much as he does—and makes his stomach flutter. Not what he needs to be focusing on right now. But after Eric and Miles pretend to date so they can score an invite to a couples-only Valentine’s party, the ruse turns real with a kiss, which is also definitely not in the plan. If only Miles could figure out why Eric likes him so much. After all, it’s not like he’s cool or confident or comfortable in his own skin. He’s not even good enough at piano to get his fellow competitors to respect him, especially now, as Miles. Nothing’s ever been as easy for him as for other people—other boys. He’s only ever been almost enough.
So why, when he’s with Eric, does it feel like the only person he’s ever really not been enough for…is himself?
