On My Way

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the premise at first: *divorced witch-adjacent mom dodges murder attempts and orc conspiracy theories* sounded like a kitchen-sink mess. But Langlais makes it work by anchoring the chaos in her protagonist’s razor-sharp voice—a woman who’s equal parts exhausted, furious, and darkly amused by her own life’s dumpster fire. The mystery itself is solid, if not groundbreaking (the small-town secrets unfold predictably), but the joy is in the *how*: the way our heroine’s midlife unraveling mirrors the town’s escalating weirdness. When her best friend starts stockpiling garlic for the ‘orc apocalypse,’ it’s not just a joke—it’s a metaphor for how isolation warps perception, and Poole’s deadpan delivery sells it. That said, the audiobook isn’t without stumbles. Poole’s character voices are distinct, but her male voices occasionally veer into caricature (the ex-husband’s growl borders on villainous parody). And while the protagonist’s sarcasm is a delight, the supporting cast’s quirks sometimes tip into *too* much—like the neighbor whose folksy wisdom starts to feel like a tic after the third ‘well, bless your heart.’ Pacing-wise, the middle sags slightly as the witchy subplot tangles with the murder investigation, but the final act tightens up with a satisfyingly twisted reveal. What lingers isn’t the whodunit (you’ll guess early) but the *vibe*: a messy, funny, occasionally heartbreaking portrait of starting over when the world insists on labeling you—witch, victim, or just ‘that divorced lady with the garlic problem.’