The Three Lives of Cate Kay by Kate Fagan hooked me from the very first page, like a secret whispered in a crowded room. It’s a story that twirls through mystery, love, and the ache of hidden truths, pulling you into the heart of a woman who’s lived three lives, each one a fragile mask. I felt her joy, her pain, her longing, as if they were my own. This book, Reese’s Book Club pick for January 2025, is a journey I didn’t want to end.
Some books stay with you, their characters lingering like old friends you can’t forget. The Three Lives of Cate Kay is one of those. Fagan crafts a world where every choice carries weight, where love and betrayal dance in delicate balance. I laughed at witty moments, teared up over heartbreak, and held my breath through twists that left me stunned. This debut novel is a love letter to anyone who’s ever reinvented themselves, and I’m thrilled to share why it captured my heart.
What makes this book special is its honesty. It’s about a woman named Annie, Cass, and Cate—all the same, yet so different—chasing dreams and running from ghosts. Fagan’s words feel like a warm hug and a sharp nudge, urging you to feel deeply and think carefully. As I turned each page, I found myself lost in a story that’s as glamorous as Hollywood and as raw as a whispered confession. Let me take you through why this novel is a treasure.
A Puzzle of Identity and Heart
Cate Kay is a literary superstar, her dystopian trilogy The Very Last a global phenomenon. But Cate Kay doesn’t exist—not really. She’s a pseudonym, a shield for a woman who’s been running from her past since a tragedy upended her dreams. The novel, framed as Cate’s unpublished memoir, peels back her layers with a tenderness that made my chest ache. Fagan’s storytelling is a dance between past and present, weaving Cate’s childhood as Annie, her reinvention as Cass, and her guarded life as the famous author.
The book’s structure is a marvel. It’s a multi-perspective memoir, blending Cate’s voice with those of others—her first love Amanda, the glamorous actress Ryan, the calculating lawyer Sidney. Short chapters from secondary characters add depth, like brushstrokes on a canvas. I loved the “matryoshka-doll” construction, as one Goodreads reviewer called it, with books within books and footnotes that ground you in Cate’s world. “The trick of life, as I see it now, is to make what’s around you beautiful,” Cate reflects, and Fagan makes every detail beautiful, from the crumbling subway sign on The Very Last’s cover to the quiet moments of regret.
Fagan’s prose is playful yet poignant. She captures Cate’s complexity—her ambition, her flaws, her yearning to be seen. I found myself rooting for her, even when her choices frustrated me. The novel’s pacing is electric, with twists that had me gasping. As Nina LaCour wrote in The New York Times, “By the end of this propulsive puzzle of a novel, we do [love her].” That love comes from Fagan’s ability to make Cate feel like a friend, messy and real.
The Hollywood glamour, often compared to The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, is undeniable. Yet, this book stands alone. It’s not just about fame; it’s about what fame costs. Cate’s anonymity is no lifeline—it’s a necessity. The suspense of her unraveling secrets kept me glued to the pages. I adored how Fagan subverts tropes, making male characters bridges rather than heroes, as one reviewer noted. This is a story of women—flawed, fierce, and unforgettable.
Some might find the narrative shifts jarring, but I didn’t. Each perspective felt purposeful, like pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. The only hiccup? The ending felt slightly rushed, as a Goodreads critic pointed out, with key reunions left off-page. Still, the emotional weight lingered. I closed the book feeling both satisfied and hungry for more from Fagan.
The Three Lives of Cate Kay – Story of Love, Loss, and Coming Home
At its core, The Three Lives of Cate Kay is a love story—not just romantic, but about friendship, self, and the courage to face your past. Cate’s relationship with Amanda, her childhood best friend and first love, broke my heart. Their dreams of Hollywood stardom, shattered by a zip-line accident, set Cate on her path of reinvention. “Nothing seemed right,” Amanda says, and that grief echoes through Cate’s life. Fagan handles their queer love story with authenticity, avoiding clichés for raw, tender connection.
Then there’s Ryan, the actress who sparks Cate’s heart years later. Her line, “My sweet spot was a full redemption arc in about two hours,” captures her charm and vulnerability. I loved how Fagan portrays Ryan’s Hollywood life—glitzy yet lonely. Their chemistry is electric, but it’s complicated by Cate’s secrets. Sidney, the lawyer who shapes Cate’s literary empire, adds another layer. “Morality is a delicate ecosystem,” she says, and her manipulative edge made me love and loathe her. These women, each loving a different version of Cate, show how identity shifts with connection.
Fagan’s exploration of female relationships is masterful. She deconstructs friendships, rivalries, and romances with pragmatism and heart. As Publishers Weekly raved, “Fagan fascinates with her enigmatic and shape-shifting protagonist.” I felt that fascination, too. Cate’s journey to reconcile her past with her present is universal. Who hasn’t wondered who they’d be without their mistakes?
The novel’s themes—authenticity, privacy, the price of ambition—hit hard in our era of curated identities. Cate’s struggle to balance her public and private selves resonated with me. “It’s like you hold me steady, but without holding me still,” she says of a loved one, and that line captures the book’s emotional core. It’s about finding people who see you, flaws and all, and choosing to stay.
I also appreciated Fagan’s journalism-honed eye, as Booklist noted. Her observations make every character vivid, from the scrawny courier delivering The Very Last to Cate’s mother, a woman of “former jobs, former friends, former boyfriends.” The setting—upstate New York, Charleston, Hollywood—feels alive, grounding the story’s glamour in grit. Some coincidences felt convenient, but they didn’t dim the novel’s shine. Fagan’s debut is, as Emily Habeck said, “a gripping and heartfelt” triumph.
What stayed with me most was Cate’s quest for redemption. Her decision to come clean, to write her memoir, is an act of bravery. The book asks: Can we outrun our past? Can we deserve love after betrayal? I believe we can, and Fagan makes you believe it, too. The final pages left me teary, hopeful, and reflective. I wanted to call my best friend, to tell her I’m sorry for old hurts, to say I’m still here.
This novel is for anyone who’s ever felt torn between dreams and relationships. It’s for book lovers who crave twists and heart, for queer readers seeking authentic stories, for anyone who’s run from themselves and longed to come home. Fagan’s writing is a gift, her characters a mirror. As The Lesbian Review put it, “This book is a brilliant blend of heart and intrigue.” I couldn’t agree more.
So, grab a cozy blanket and dive into The Three Lives of Cate Kay. Let it enchant you, challenge you, move you. It’s a story that lingers, like a song you hum long after it ends. Kate Fagan has crafted something special, and I can’t wait to see what she writes next.