Waiting for the Flood

(This review was originally a blog post, and is probably more suited for that format. Short review- I loved this book to pieces. It's wonderful. Lengthier, blathering review below.)

I got this book from the publisher, Riptide, in exchange for an honest, unbiased review.

Unbiased being the keyword. Now, I don’t know about everybody else who reviews things, and I, honestly, try not to promise very many reviews anymore, but. But. When I do, I am always unbiased. Sometimes books are good and sometimes they’re bad, and I can just pretty much guarantee that no matter what, I’ll let the book speak for itself.

I was a little worried about ‘Waiting for the Flood,’ though. First, I am a HUGE Alexis Hall fan. I’ve so far only managed to show more get my hands on a few of his books, but his writing just always bowls me over, in the very best way. I’ve had to ban myself from his blog. I’ll start reading an article or review of his, and suddenly I’ve gotten myself lost in his website and hours have gone by. I can’t even go on his Twitter feed anymore. So I thought, maybe, for the first time, I would be biased and love this book because I am just so crazy about the way he puts words and emotions to paper.

And I was just so very, very excited to have the book. I wanted to read it so badly.

I think I kind of psyched myself out, because for the first couple of pages, I just couldn’t get into it. Whenever you read a book with the knowledge that a review must follow, you spend a lot of time thinking about the context of the review and maybe not the book itself. Which is another form of dishonesty, I suppose, and why I only rarely request books to review.

But this is Alexis Hall. And yes, I have a weird, crazy obsession with him and sometimes I ogle his Twitter for longer than is probably healthy, and yes, there was the very real potential that that would taint my opinion of this book. But it didn’t. It didn’t have to. ‘Waiting for the Flood’ is simply so beautiful and wonderful and lovely that it stole my heart all by itself. If I had never heard of Alexis Hall or any of his other books before, I would still have been in love with this.

It’s so simple. Edwin is living in his house in England during a particularly nasty piece of weather. He’s basically waiting for the flood (oh my god, I did not just do that) to rise up over his doorstep. Meanwhile, some flood prevention people arrive and one, Adam, takes an interest in Edwin. And Edwin, who is awkward and lonely and still trying to come to terms with the idea that the man he thought he’d be with forever has left, doesn’t know how to react.

And that’s it. It is a bit of a romance, and it is about the flood, but for me, it was more, or mostly, about the end of Edwin’s relationship, and how that quiet death of a future changes everything. And, at the same time, changes very little. There’s no real drama. There are hardly any outbursts, except one, and even that was more heartbreaking than exciting, more an ache than a sharp pain. And yet, in this quiet way, with these characters who feel very real but are not, in and of themselves, spectacular or incredible, the book conveys so much emotion and so many ideas, ideas that I think usually get skipped over. In the hands of someone who wasn’t as talented and insightful as Alexis Hall, these things would probably be boring. But here they tunneled into my heart. They made me feel… so much. I didn’t necessarily feel for Edwin and Adam so much as I felt like they felt the same things as me. Does that make sense? Like I could understand them because they were real people with problems that seemed small, maybe, but, in their lives, were large. And real. And honest.

And maybe I am biased because I could feel those things a little too closely. When Edwin talks about how he’s using his fear of being hurt, of being left, to keep Adam away… that’s me. That’s what I do, what I’ve been doing for a long time. Wow, did I get what he meant. And there were others things that struck a little too close to home. And the amazing thing is… Sometimes you read a book about something that hits close to home, and you just know that the author doesn’t know what they’re talking about. That they’re using this pain or discomfort as a plot device. But not here. Never with Alexis Hall. I don’t know him, and I don’t know what’s happened to him in his life- maybe he’s just that talented that he can talk about things like he’s lived them- but it always feels like he’s been there, like he’s speaking for an honest place. Like I can trust what I’m reading, and believe in it.

So I enjoyed the characters, and the romance. And I loved the plot. Everything about it. I mean, the flood could easily have felt like heavy handed symbolism, but it didn’t. But what I liked best was the writing. I love the way Alexis Hall folds words together to express things, the way each word fits and feels so good. Like he says in the book- “…dropping the syllables cleanly, like marbles…” I love the way he takes simple things and turns them into something lovely and complex, and the way he takes complex ideas and makes them smaller and more comfortable, so that you feel all the things, the joy or the sadness or the loss, without getting bogged down. Like when Edwin says he wishes he could say that his ex-boyfriend died instead of leaving, so that Edwin would seem “brave and slightly wounded, not just someone somebody else didn’t want.”

It’s a beautiful way to say it. And have you not ever wished that? I have. I’ve just never seen it in black and white, laid out in front of me like it’s perfectly understandable to feel that way.

And I love the way it’s all tempered by little moments of laughter. I always laugh right out loud when I read Alexis Hall, and that’s necessary, to balance the other emotions in the writing. I laughed so many times reading ‘Waiting for the Flood.’

And I love how blatantly intelligent this book is. Maybe it’s weird to say that, to say that it’s a rare quality, but I think it is. You can see how clever the book is in the way it throws emotions at you and just expects that you’ll have enough sentiment to catch them, and how smart it is in the way the writing allows you to pull more and more and deeper meaning from the words. But it’s overtly intelligent, too, when Edwin and Adam talk about their work, or when they have that long, rambling discussion on game theory (which I had to look up because, while I would consider myself rather intelligent, that one made no sense whatsoever to me.) In the middle of a beautiful story, there was intelligence that made me feel challenged. Alexis Hall believed his readers would be intelligent people, and that made me feel like I was reading something that was far more than fluff. It was really refreshing, actually.

Not that any of this felt like fluff, in any way. It was so gorgeous. I loved the easy comfort and discomfort. Loved the sentiment expressed here, loved the smooth ebb and flow of feelings. I wanted to read it forever, over and over. This was short. It should have taken me… maybe a couple hours to read. It took me almost five, because I kept going back and reading paragraphs over. Sometimes I realized I just hadn’t had enough and went back pages, rereading, reabsorbing, just trying to suck all that wonderful writing and characterization and setting and sadness and happiness and loss and loneliness in.

God, it was good.

And! I assumed this would never be available in print, but now it is! And this book is so wonderful- it's worth buying in either (or, preferably, both) format. It’s lovely and touching and it left me feeling raw and kind of fragile.

I liked it very much. Very, very much.

This review was originally posted on Hot Stuff for Cool People. show less

I’ve experienced Waiting for the Flood in almost every form—an ARC e-book, the original release, the updated edition, and the Will Watt audiobook—and each time, it’s left me with the same quiet, lingering impression: this isn’t just an English romance; it’s a story that feels like it could unfold in a Japanese novel. When I first read it, I pictured Edwin Tully, the reserved protagonist, not as a British everyman but as a Japanese man living in a quaint, weathered town like Onomichi—surrounded by narrow streets, old houses, and the soft hum of a river. There’s a stillness to this book, a lyrical hush I’d never encountered in an English-language novel before, and it drew me in like a whisper.

The story begins in show more Edwin’s head, a place of muted grief and careful routines as he tends to his flooded Oxford home after a breakup. That introspective opening—rain tapping, books warping, memories seeping through—feels so delicate, almost like a haiku stretched into prose. Britain’s atmosphere, damp and introspective, mirrors Japan’s in a way the U.S. never does; it’s less brash, more steeped in subtle melancholy. Edwin’s world is small but vivid, and his chance meeting with Adam, a bold engineer who crashes into his life like a sudden storm, unfolds with a tender, understated ache that’s rare in Western romance.

The original e-book hit me hardest—it’s where that quiet, Japanese-esque soul shines clearest. The ARC I got early felt rawer, like a draft of a poem still finding its shape, while the updated version polishes it without losing that core. Will Watt’s audiobook narration, though, brings a crisp warmth that lifts the story’s mood—his voice is perfect, dynamic, but maybe a touch less melancholic than I’d imagined for Edwin. (I still wonder how the older Alexander Doddy version might’ve leaned into that somberness I loved.)

What makes this book linger is its restraint. It’s not loud or predictable like some romances—it’s a slow burn that trusts you to feel the weight of small moments. Edwin’s not just rebuilding his house; he’s piecing himself back together, and Adam’s presence is less a fix than a gentle push. For me, it’s a story that bridges cultures in my mind—Britain’s misty quiet meeting Japan’s lyrical calm. If you crave a romance that’s reflective and soft-spoken, not drowning in tropes, this is it. I hesitated to review it before, tangled in overthinking, but now I see it’s worth sharing: Waiting for the Flood is a rare, beautiful thing.

On Chasing the Light: The companion novella, bundled in the updated edition, flips to Adam’s side—a bright, fleeting spark next to Edwin’s shadow. It’s shorter, sharper, but just as lovely, tracing his restless energy against a Cornish coast that feels alive with sea and sky. At first, I thought Marius, Edwin’s ex, was a cold villain—his mom’s kindness to Edwin made his breakup seem heartless. But Adam’s view hints Edwin was shielding Marius from his own struggles, flipping my take. Edwin’s poetic chapter titles contrast with Marius’s plain numbers—opposite souls who still care, quietly. It’s like a haiku’s second verse, perfectly paired. show less

Edwin, a book conservator at the Bodleian Library, lives in an area known for flooding and a lot of rain is headed that way. As he prepares his home for the onslaught, he ruminates on how his life has come to a standstill since his longtime partner left, but he doesn't seem to know how to move on. Enter an engineer and flood management expert with flaming red hair and freckles for days, like literally on his doorstep. It takes a while and some emotional resistance from Edwin, but he eventually realizes that it's time for the flood of grief to be over.
A slim little chapbook of a romance, but all the more impressive for packing such a punch in so few pages. I adored it, and Edwin and Adam of the red hair and freckles.

Reread. Alexis Hall does character like nobody else. This novella packs in hard-hitting but tender moments. Love, love, love it. ~Feb 2017

A novella taking place over a few days during a flooding event in Oxford. Edwin is a resident on a street that is sure to flood, and Adam is an engineer with the Environment Agency who has been sent to help the residents of that street during the flooding. They meet, and the very fledgling beginnings of a romance hatch. But Edwin has to decide if he's willing to let someone new in, as he's still hurting from the end of a ten-year relationship he thought was forever. Almost more of a character study than a straight-up romance, this story was just a joy. The characters are individuated and interesting, show more their budding romance was sweet and believable, and Edwin has an elderly neighbor who was a hoot. Recommended. ~Feb 2016 show less

I can certainly see where Alexis Hall is not for everyone, but he's most definitely for me--based on the two I have read.

In what amounts to a nearly 3 hour audiobook, and 100 pages in print, Hall manages to develop two beautiful characters, even more supporting. Somehow, the relationship builds convincing intimacy in that short time span. And Hall writes the kind of prose I just enjoy reading, so even if I didn't love all of this the strength of the writing would give me goosebumps--and often did.

Edwin is quiet, and piecing himself together and realizes he's holding himself back from 'adventure' due to some serious pain and grief from his prior relationship. After 10 years, he is left and left wondering if he is unlovable. At that show more point, the flood never came (as they are expected every so often) but 2 years post-relationship it did. It is during this that he begins to see his need to connect & move on, and the flood brings a delightful prison-delimma, logician joke-making Adam to his doorstep.

But I am everyday, and in some small way he was making me feel like Sunday best

There's a delightful thread running through this book due to Edwin's job and hobby with ephemera, which honestly had me charmed from the beginning. I immediately related it to the photographs I treasure and love to take.

As for the narrator, I would be outside of my ability to comment other than generally. I really enjoyed his performance, once I understood why he may have used the cadence he did for Edwin. (there seem to be a lot of phrasing breaks.)

This is an easy 4 star, which is remarkable, considering that it's a novella. A lovely, quiet novella. show less

I recently had the pleasure of listening to the audiobook version, and I was absolutely captivated. The narration by Will Watt truly brought the story to life, with his impeccable range of voices perfectly capturing the essence of each character. His ability to convey the emotional depth and subtleties of the story added a whole new layer of engagement. The story, a touching tale of love, loss, and healing, was beautifully written, but Watt's performance elevated it to an extraordinary experience. The additional chapters and epilogue, not found in the ebook, were a delightful bonus. This audiobook is a testament to how a skilled narrator can enhance the beauty of a story.

This is a little difficult for me to rate.

I loved the writing, imagery and terminology used throughout ~ it was so evocative and different. Poetic. Beautiful.

The actual plotline was a bit boring. Our main MC (Edwin) wallowed in self-indulgent pity throughout most of the book; his inability to move on was, I felt, extreme.

Narrated by Alexander Doddy. 4 stars. Great characterisation and full of the pathos that Edwin engendered.