Book Review: The Bookstore Sisters by Alice Hoffman

This was my first time reading Alice Hoffman, and I really wanted to like The Bookstore Sisters more than I did. The title alone reeled me in—two estranged sisters, a shared history, and a family-owned bookstore on a remote island? That’s basically a checklist of things I love. I went into it expecting emotional tension, quiet nostalgia, and maybe even some literary magic. Unfortunately, the story never fully delivered on its promise.

The setup is rich with potential: Isabel returns to her childhood home on a Maine island after years of silence, following a desperate letter from her sister Sophie. Their family bookstore still stands, and it becomes the backdrop for memories, regrets, and a fragile hope for reconciliation. I was ready for a deep dive into sisterhood, grief, and forgiveness. But instead of feeling immersed, I felt like I was watching scenes flick past too quickly, like flipping through a photo album without knowing the stories behind the pictures.

One of my biggest issues was the pacing. The emotional transitions—from anger and resentment to sudden moments of affection—felt abrupt and underdeveloped. I didn’t have enough time to sit with the characters or understand their pain. One second they’re confronting each other, and the next they’re hugging it out. I found myself wishing for more depth, more internal monologue, more buildup to those reconciliatory moments that should’ve hit hard but didn’t. It read more like a sketch of a powerful story rather than the full piece.

That said, there were parts I genuinely appreciated. The inclusion of family recipes was a beautiful, unexpected detail that added a touch of warmth and texture to the narrative. It made me feel like I was sitting in the kitchen with the sisters, maybe even learning something about their family that words didn’t quite say. Hoffman has a gift for those small, sensory moments—when they’re there, they shine.

I also think the themes of forgiveness and sisterhood had real potential. I saw glimpses of what this story could’ve been if it had been given more space to breathe. Maybe this format—a short story—just didn’t allow for the emotional development the premise deserved. For readers already familiar with Hoffman’s work, this might come across as a charming interlude. But for someone like me, encountering her writing for the first time, it didn’t leave the impression I was hoping for.

Would I read Alice Hoffman again? I think so, but probably not her short stories. I’ve heard great things about Practical Magic and The Dovekeepers, and I’m curious to see what she can do with a longer narrative. I’m hoping her novels offer more space for the emotional complexity that was missing here.

In the end, The Bookstore Sisters is a quick read with a heartwarming premise, but it left me wanting more—more emotion, more context, more connection. If you’re a fan of brief, lyrical snapshots of human relationships, this might work better for you. But if, like me, you’re drawn to slow-building emotional stories with layered characters and rich backstories, this one might feel a little too light.