Have you ever been dead certain that you’re being observed, that maybe your very existence is predicated on how others see you? A few minutes after she’s become convinced she’s the victim of a home invasion, In the Round’s brilliant and intimate narrator plunges us into a feminist Kafkaesque literary mystery that unfolds over the course of one weird—and dare we say, dramatic—night in San Francisco. Nothing is missing from her family’s home, but everything feels wrong. So begins a sleepless night of questioning, and a novel packed with the kind of astonishing twists that leave readers wondering: Is all the world a stage, after all? Over the course of the evening, theatrical elements creep in: a cast list, a prop list, an intermission.

At once an avant-garde thriller, a meditation on motherhood and mortality, a full-throated endorsement of gut-level intuition, and a tribute to the rapture of live theater in a post-pandemic world, In the Round is a lively, inventive, and completely singular story.