Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall — A Book Review

A slow burn that turns into a full-blown emotional reckoning

If you’ve had Broken Country sitting on your TBR or library holds list for what feels like forever, you’re not alone. I did too. And after finally listening to the audiobook this week, I understand why it’s landed on so many “Best of 2025” reading lists.

This is one of those books that doesn’t rush you… and then suddenly refuses to let you go.

What Broken Country Is About (Spoiler-Free)

At first, Broken Country feels almost deceptively simple.

We’re introduced to Beth and Frank, a married couple living a quiet rural life, alongside Jimmy, Frank’s brother. The opening chapters are grounded, domestic, and familiar, almost too familiar. You settle into the rhythm of their world, thinking you know exactly what kind of story you’re in.

You don’t.

What unfolds is a layered, emotionally charged novel where nothing is quite as it seems. Relationships shift. Perspectives fracture. And just when you think you’ve found solid ground, the story pulls it out from under you.

By the end, it’s clear this was never a straightforward narrative; it’s a carefully constructed unraveling.

Why This Book Works So Well

What Broken Country does best is misdirection.

Clare Leslie Hall lulls the reader into a sense of comfort before quietly introducing doubt, tension, and moral gray areas. The twists don’t feel gimmicky or shocking for the sake of shock. Instead, they feel earned, like realizations that snap into place once you finally have all the pieces.

This is a novel about:

• The stories we tell ourselves
• The versions of people we choose to believe in
• How love, loyalty, and truth are rarely as clean as we want them to be

It’s introspective without being slow, dramatic without being overdone.

Audiobook Experience: Worth It?

Absolutely.

Listening to Broken Country on audiobook made the experience even more immersive. The emotional shifts land harder when you hear them unfold, and the pacing works beautifully in audio form, especially once the plot accelerates.

If you’re someone who likes listening while doing chores, driving, or winding down at night, this is a great choice.

Themes That Linger After the Last Chapter

Without giving anything away, this book stays with you because it explores:

• The unreliability of first impressions
• The cost of secrets
• The way past choices quietly shape the present
• How easily certainty can dissolve

By the final chapters, you’re no longer reading for answers, you’re reading to understand how everything became so complicated.

Final Thoughts: Is Broken Country Worth the Hype?

Yes, but not in the way you might expect.

If you’re looking for a fast-paced thriller right out of the gate, this might test your patience at first. But if you enjoy slow builds, emotional depth, and layered storytelling, Broken Country delivers in a big way.

It’s the kind of book that starts quietly, twists unexpectedly, and ends with you sitting there thinking, Wow. I did not see it that way at all.

Best for readers who love:

• Literary fiction with twists
• Rural or domestic settings
• Character-driven stories
• Books that reveal their meaning slowly

My 2025 Year-End Reflection: The Year That Tried It (But I Outgrew It Anyway)

(healing, boundaries, resilience, and a soft launch into the version of me who knows better)

2025 was… a year.

Not the worst year of my life (widowhood still holds that crown), but definitely the most unexpectedly chaotic, emotionally educational, and spiritually corrective one I’ve had since.

I walked into this year thinking it would be simple: heal, grow, rebuild, repeat.

Instead, the universe said:

“Let’s add plot twists.”

And oh, did the plot twist.

This was the year people showed their true colors.

And honestly?

I’m glad they did.

People revealed who they really were when they thought I’d tolerate it forever.

People who claimed to care… didn’t show up.

People who acted like they were different… weren’t.

People who spoke beautifully… behaved terribly.

People who wanted access to me… didn’t like the responsibility of treating me well.

I learned that you can pour love into someone and still get emptiness back.

That “potential” is not a relationship.

That mixed signals are actually very clear signals.

That silence speaks louder than words… and sometimes louder than apologies.

And that peace never lives where confusion thrives.

2025 taught me that I can’t be the only one trying

If I’m the only one putting in effort? It’s not a connection, it’s a delusion.

If I feel drained after talking to someone? I’m not “sensitive”, I’m being warned.

If someone treats me like an option? They’re confirming they’re not my person.

And if someone’s behavior repeatedly makes my nervous system think it’s being chased by a bear? 

That’s not chemistry, that’s trauma.

This year forced me to admit things I didn’t want to see

I realized I had a habit of:

✨ giving too much

✨ trying too hard

✨ settling for too little

✨ falling for words instead of consistency

✨ over-explaining myself to people who weren’t listening

✨ trying to fix dynamics I didn’t break

✨ assuming someone’s kindness meant they wanted a future

2025 broke that pattern in me.

The universe said, “You’re done repeating this lesson. Time for the final exam.”

And honestly? I passed.

With a shaky voice and an almost-empty emotional gas tank, I passed.

On top of all that, my body threw itself into the ring too.

Stress hit hard.

My health wobbled.

I gained weight, lost energy, and felt like I was operating at 40% battery with no charger. But I’m not ashamed. My body kept me alive during chaos. She deserves grace, not criticism.

2026 is the comeback era.

This year was the plot. Next year is the character arc.

The biggest shift of 2025? My standards. My boundaries. My peace.

This year taught me the difference between:

✨ someone who values me

✨ someone who likes the idea of me

✨ someone who uses me for emotional comfort

✨ and someone who only shows up when it benefits them

2025 taught me to:

🌿 stop begging for bare minimum effort

🌿 stop romanticizing potential

🌿 stop holding space for people who don’t hold space for me

🌿 stop accepting crumbs out of fear of being alone

🌿 stop giving front-row access to people who haven’t earned a ticket

The new standard is simple: If I don’t feel peace, clarity, reciprocity, and consistency… I don’t want it.

What I’m carrying into 2026

There are exciting things on my horizon; things I’ll share once the timing is right, but for now, this is what I know:

✨ I’m choosing myself and my son first

✨ I’m only accepting energy that feels calm, stable, and grown

✨ I’m building a life filled with peace, creativity, and reciprocity

✨ I’m done participating in dynamics that drain my spirit

✨ I’m focusing on my home, my health, my projects, and my healing

2025 was the lesson. 2026 is the upgrade.

If someone wants to be part of my life going forward, they’re going to have to meet me at the level I’m operating at and not drag me back into cycles I’ve already outgrown.

If this year shook you, too, you’re not alone.

If 2025 revealed some truths you didn’t want to see…

If it exposed relationships you were desperately trying to idealize…

If it sent you through a healing arc you didn’t sign up for…

Same, babe.

But maybe the universe wasn’t punishing us. Maybe it was preparing us.

Preparing us to stop tolerating the bare minimum. Preparing us to walk away the first time we feel disrespected. Preparing us to choose peace over chaos. Preparing us to finally live at the self-worth we’ve been talking about for years.

2025 won’t follow us into next year.

We’re leaving the lessons, not the wounds.

Here’s to a softer 2026. A clearer 2026. A “me first” 2026. A “we don’t chase men, we chase peace” 2026.

✨ With love + boundaries + the energy of someone who’s finally awake,

Tiff