On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous is a poignant letter from a son to his mother, who cannot read. Written by Little Dog when he is in his late twenties, this letter delves into a family history that began long before his birth—a history deeply rooted in Vietnam. It serves as a gateway into parts of his life that his mother has never known, leading to an unforgettable revelation.

This novel is a profound witness to the complex yet undeniable love between a single mother and her son. It is also a brutally honest exploration of race, class, and masculinity. The narrative poses questions central to our American moment, as we grapple with addiction, violence, and trauma, but it is underpinned by compassion and tenderness.

Ocean Vuong writes with stunning urgency and grace about people caught between disparate worlds, asking how we can heal and rescue one another without losing ourselves. The quest for survival and the pursuit of joy power this remarkable debut novel.

Get this, I'm supposed to be starting a journal about "my journey." Please. I can see it now: Dear Diary, As I'm set adrift on this crazy sea called "life"... I don't think so.

It's been seventy-five days. Amy's sick of her parents suddenly taking an interest in her. And she's really sick of people asking her about Julia. Julia's gone now, and she doesn't want to talk about it. They wouldn't get it, anyway. They wouldn't understand what it feels like to have your best friend ripped away from you. They wouldn't understand what it feels like to know it's your fault.

Amy's shrink thinks it would help to start a diary. Instead, Amy starts writing letters to Julia. But as she writes letter after letter, she begins to realize that the past wasn't as perfect as she thought it was—and the present deserves a chance too.