Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

In the pixelated landscapes of video games and the complex terrain of human relationships, Gabrielle Zevin has created a novel that operates like the medium it explores—immersive, emotionally engaging, and capable of transforming players through the act of participation. *Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow* uses the world of game design as a lens through which to examine friendship, creativity, identity, and the ways we construct meaning in our lives. ## The Players Sam, Sadie, and Marx emerge as protagonists whose relationships drive both the narrative and its emotional core. Their friendship, formed in childhood through shared gaming experiences, evolves with the complexity of real human connection—marked by love, resentment, misunderstanding, and forgiveness. Zevin avoids the trap of making any character purely sympathetic or unsympathetic, instead creating individuals whose flaws and virtues feel authentically human. Sam's struggles with physical disability and family trauma, Sadie's navigation of sexism in the gaming industry, and Marx's role as both mediator and creator in his own right—each character's journey illuminates different aspects of the creative process and the costs of ambition. ## The Game Design Metaphor Zevin's use of video game creation as central metaphor proves inspired. The process of designing games—building worlds, creating rules, anticipating player responses—becomes a reflection of how we construct our lives and relationships. The games Sam and Sadie create together serve as expressions of their inner worlds and their evolving understanding of each other. The novel's exploration of gaming culture feels authentic and detailed without excluding readers unfamiliar with the medium. Zevin captures both the technical aspects of game design and the emotional resonance games can carry for their creators and players. ## The Business of Art The progression from college friendship to professional partnership to corporate success provides a framework for examining how market forces interact with artistic vision. Zevin doesn't romanticize the creative process but shows how external pressures—financial, social, industrial—shape and sometimes corrupt artistic endeavors. The novel's portrayal of the gaming industry—its sexism, its commercial pressures, its potential for both exploitation and genuine artistic expression—feels researched and nuanced. Zevin avoids both naive idealization and cynical dismissal, instead showing the complex reality of creating art within commercial structures. ## The Question of Authorship One of the novel's most sophisticated themes involves the question of creative ownership and collaboration. Who deserves credit for artistic work that emerges from partnership? How do we measure different types of contribution—technical skill, creative vision, emotional support, business acumen? The tension between Sam and Sadie over recognition and credit reflects larger questions about how creative communities function and how individual achievement relates to collaborative effort. ## The Personal and Political Zevin weaves issues of identity—race, gender, sexuality, disability—into the narrative without allowing them to overshadow character development. Sam's Korean heritage, Sadie's experiences as a woman in a male-dominated field, Marx's economic background, and the various characters' relationships to their identities feel integral rather than imposed. The novel's treatment of violence—both personal trauma and larger social violence—demonstrates how external events shape internal landscapes. The characters' responses to tragedy reveal both their individual natures and their relationships to each other. ## The Structure of Play The novel's structure, with its time jumps and shifting perspectives, mirrors the non-linear nature of both memory and gaming. Zevin reveals information gradually, allowing readers to piece together the full picture of events and relationships much like players discovering the rules and backstory of a complex game. The interpolated sections describing the fictional games create additional layers of meaning while demonstrating Zevin's understanding of how interactive media can carry narrative weight. ## The Cost of Creation Perhaps the novel's most profound exploration involves the personal costs of creative ambition. The characters' drive to create meaningful work comes at the expense of relationships, mental health, and sometimes physical safety. Zevin doesn't suggest that creative work isn't worth these costs, but she insists on acknowledging them honestly. The novel's treatment of success—both its achievement and its aftermath—avoids simple moralization while examining how external validation relates to internal satisfaction. ## The Continuing Game The novel's ending provides emotional resolution while acknowledging that life, like good games, continues beyond any individual playthrough. The characters' final relationships to each other and their work feel earned through the narrative journey, offering hope without dismissing the reality of loss and change. ## Final Score *Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow* succeeds as both entertainment and art, much like the games it describes. Zevin has created a novel that operates on multiple levels—as friendship story, industry portrait, meditation on creativity, and exploration of how we find meaning in our lives. The book proves that literary fiction can engage with contemporary culture without sacrificing depth or emotional truth. **Rating: ★★★★★** *A masterpiece that transforms the specific world of game design into universal truths about friendship, creativity, and the games we all play to understand ourselves.*