The Next Best Thing

About This Audiobook

*The Next Best Thing* isn’t just another rags-to-riches Hollywood fable—it’s a razor-sharp, emotionally layered look at what happens when ambition collides with grief, and the scripts we write for our lives refuse to follow the three-act structure. Jennifer Weiner’s protagonist, Ruth Saunders, is a survivor in every sense: of a childhood tragedy, of Hollywood’s soul-crushing machinery, and of her own self-doubt. The novel’s brilliance lies in its refusal to romanticize either the entertainment industry or the healing process, serving up laugh-out-loud satire one moment and gut-punch vulnerability the next.

Olivia Thirlby’s narration is the audiobook’s secret weapon. She nails Ruth’s biting wit with a dry, rapid-fire delivery that feels like eavesdropping on a brilliant but exhausted friend, then pivots effortlessly to the quieter, aching moments where Ruth’s past seeps into her present. The production leans into Thirlby’s strengths—her pacing mirrors Ruth’s manic energy during pitch meetings, while her softer tones during flashbacks create a haunting contrast. What sets this apart from other “making it in LA” stories is Weiner’s unflinching eye for the *work* of creativity: the rewrites, the compromises, and the way art and commerce tangle like lovers in a bad rom-com."

"review": "I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes when I saw *another* novel about a young woman chasing her dreams in Hollywood. But *The Next Best Thing* disarmed me within chapters—partly because Ruth Saunders is such a refreshingly flawed protagonist (she’s ambitious but not always likable, talented but prone to self-sabotage), and partly because Jennifer Weiner writes the industry’s absurdities with the precision of someone who’s been in the room. The plot hinges on Ruth’s semi-autobiographical sitcom, a meta touch that lets Weiner skewer TV tropes while exploring how we mythologize our own traumas. When Ruth’s pitch gets greenlit but warped by network notes, the satire stings because it *feels* real—like a cross between *The Devil Wears Prada* and *BoJack Horseman*’s darker episodes.

Olivia Thirlby’s performance is mostly stellar, though I’ll dock half a star for her occasional over-emphasis on punchlines; some jokes land better in print than when delivered with sit-com timing. But she *excels* in the heavier scenes, particularly Ruth’s flashbacks to the car accident that orphaned her. The audiobook’s production is clean, but the lack of distinct vocal differentiation between secondary characters sometimes makes dialogue-heavy scenes slightly confusing. Still, the story’s emotional core—Ruth’s fraught relationship with her grandmother, the way her grief fuels her writing—cuts through any technical quibbles. If you’ve ever loved something so much it terrified you, or worked in a field that demands you commodify your pain, this one will resonate. Just don’t expect a tidy happy ending; Weiner’s too smart for that."

"tags": [
"Hollywood satire with heart