Bloom is a heartfelt literary fiction novel with an elderly queer protagonist at its center, exploring themes of grief, life after loss, family tension, and the possibility of acceptance and forgiveness. This book marks Robbie Couch’s first venture into adult fiction, and it has an A Man Called Ove meets The Guncle vibe. If you’re familiar with Couch’s previous work, you’ll notice a shift to a third-person point of view for much of this book—and it works perfectly here. There are also short chapters narrated in the first-person POV of a talking jade plant, which adds intrigue and charm!
The story follows Morris Warner, a man unraveling after the sudden death of his husband, Fred; his stepdaughter Sloane; and Jade, a talking houseplant. Once lively and extroverted, Morris now lives a reclusive, solitary life, still processing grief and neglecting the home—and the plants—Fred left behind. Sloane is also struggling with planning her wedding while burdened by loss and family expectations that leave her feeling stuck and unseen. Meanwhile, Jade desperately tries to help her human companion “come back to life,” while also trying to save herself and the other plants she converses with by getting the humans to water them and care for them. The novel shifts between these POVs, giving readers a close, often whimsical look at how the lives of all three characters intersect and how each helps the others heal.
This is a character-driven story, and readers will quickly grow to love the main characters and their evolution. It’s refreshing to have an elderly queer protagonist, and Morris’s journey from withdrawal to vulnerability to openness is beautifully portrayed—and will tug at readers’ heartstrings. Meanwhile, Sloane, who has uncertainties about her upcoming wedding and a growing conflict with her mother, reclaims agency over her life and learns to trust her own instincts in ways that feel completely relatable and inspiring. Their relationship, complicated by grief and shared memories of Fred, grows through a series of meaningful experiences—from shopping trips to a gay bar outing to a cinema night out—and becomes the emotional heart of the story. But what makes this book truly unique is the sentient plant, Jade—a delightful narrator whose physical wilting and revival mirror the emotional states of the humans around her. Add in a feline threat and other sentient plants, each with their own personalities and backstories, and the story becomes a whimsical, heartfelt tale that will keep readers turning the pages!
This is a short book at 240 pages (or about 5 ½ hours on audio), and the pacing is gentle but steady. The opening chapters take a bit of time to introduce Morris, Sloane, and the plants’ backstories, but once Morris and Sloane start spending time together, the story gains momentum. Don’t expect major plot twists or confrontational scenes—instead, there are meaningful moments, quiet connections, and realistic situations that challenge the characters. The ending feels true to life, with things still unresolved, but it leaves readers with a sense of renewal and hope, not just for the people, but for the plants too. And it gives off a powerful metaphor for how, even after profound loss, life can bloom again in unexpected ways.
Overall, Bloom is a highly original and compelling exploration of grief, family, and the idea that growth can happen even in the later stages of life—and it marks a very successful transition into adult fiction for Robbie Couch. This book is perfect for readers who love memorable characters, emotional stories about healing and connection, and novels that stay with you long after the final page!