Through the Storm

I’ll be honest: I went into *Through the Storm* expecting another alien-invasion yarn, and instead got a hilarious, infuriating character study about the cost of being *interesting*. Lynn Raven is the kind of protagonist you’d follow into a black hole—flawed, bitter, and painfully relatable as she’s chewed up by the fame machine. Ringo’s writing shines in the small details: the way Lynn’s alien "handlers" misinterpret human emotions, or how a throwaway press conference becomes a hostage situation. The satire cuts deep, especially in scenes where politicians and influencers treat first contact like a brand deal. It’s *Dr. Strangelove* for the TikTok era. Mollo-Christensen’s performance is the glue holding it together. Her Lynn is a revelation—equal parts sighed monotone and barely suppressed rage, like a teacher explaining quantum physics to a room of toddlers. The pacing stumbles slightly in the middle during a subplot about alien bureaucracy (even Ringo’s wit can’t make tax forms thrilling), and a few secondary characters blend together in the audio format. But the climax—a chaotic, live-streamed disaster—is worth the price of admission alone. The production’s use of ambient noise (the hum of a spaceship, the white noise of a press scrum) adds immersion without overpowering the prose. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at viral fame or cringed at a PR disaster, this book will feel like vengeance. Just don’t expect easy answers—or happy aliens.