Nobody is Ever Missing follows Elyria (name slay) as she descends into a downward mental spiral and de-realization, abandoning her husband without warning and fleeing to New Zealand. There, she wanders aimlessly, searching for something even she can’t define. The novel feels like The Guest meets My Year of Rest and Relaxation—a self-destruction narrative that will either resonate deeply or frustrate readers with its detached, meandering style.

I was drawn to what Elyria describes as her "wildebeest" form—that raw, animalistic self-destruction. Lacey’s writing has moments of brilliance, and as Elyria unravels further, the prose mirrors her disorientation, becoming increasingly manic and difficult to follow.

On paper, this book had everything I love—fractured, self-destructive protagonist, stream-of-consciousness narration, a woman unraveling in real time—but something was missing for me to fully connect. I found myself more gripped by her present breakdown than the flashbacks explaining how she got there, which left me feeling distanced from the story in a way I wish I hadn’t. I wanted more in some places, less in others, but ultimately, I wanted to feel it more than I did.