The Ryries have suffered a loss: the death of a baby just fifty-seven hours after his birth. Without words to express their grief, the parents, John and Ricky, try to return to their previous lives. The couple's children, ten-year-old Biscuit and thirteen-year-old Paul, responding to the unnamed tensions around them, begin to act out in exquisitely idiosyncratic ways. But as the family members scatter into private, isolating grief, an unexpected visitor arrives, and they find themselves growing more alert to the hurt, humor, warmth, and burdens of others—to the grief that is part of every human life but that also carries within it the power to draw us together.


Based on the critically acclaimed novel by Leah Hager Cohen:



On the year-end best lists of:  New York Times, Washington Post, San Francisco Chronicle, Toronto Globe and Mail, Kirkus

Finalist Dayton Literary Peace Prize, long-list Orange Prize, long-list IMPAC Dublin Award, Oprah pick, winner Elle Readers Prize




Leah Hager Cohen is one of our foremost chroniclers of the mundane complexities, nuanced tragedies and unexpected tendernesses of human connection. . .The Grief of Others is her best work yet.

                     New York Times Book Review (cover)


Cohens empathy is sure-footed and seemingly boundless; her writing gifts its characters with glints of ordinary human radiance. It is the possibility of this glinting that ultimately becomes Cohen's most powerful gift to us, her readers, as well.

                     San Francisco Chronicle


Cohen demonstrates a masterful command of storytelling. . .driving an already gripping narrative with a quiet but brutal intensity. Incredibly moving. . .Cohen has secured a place in the lineup of todays great writers.

                     BookPage


Cohen’s stunning writing. . .mesmerizes, wounds, and possibly even heals her readers. Her courageous novel (she knows of what she writes) is to be savored.

                     Library Journal (starred)


Powerful. . .There’s pain in reading this book, but there’s another thread running through it, too, gleaming with all the vibrancy of Cohen’s prose: hope.

                     Washington Post