Tell Them You Lied is a dark, psychologically charged exploration of female friendship, artistic obsession, and the blurred line between creation and destruction. Laura Leffler weaves a story that’s both intimate and unsettling, grounding it in a vividly drawn world of early-2000s New York and the emotionally claustrophobic art school scene that shapes her protagonists.
Anna and Willow’s relationship sits at the heart of the novel—a magnetic, toxic bond that feels as much about power as it is about love or inspiration. Leffler captures the volatility of creative ambition, especially among young women told they must suffer to make great art. When Anna’s misguided “prank” collides with the tragedy of 9/11, the result is a haunting meditation on guilt, identity, and how far one might go to be seen.
The alternating timelines—between the dreamy haze of art school and the grim reality of 2001 New York—are effective, though occasionally uneven. Some sections drag with introspection, and Anna’s narration can feel overwrought. Still, Leffler’s prose is sharp and layered, filled with passages that linger like echoes of old conversations.
This isn’t a comforting read, nor is it meant to be. It’s a slow burn that rewards patience, a study in delusion and devotion that will leave readers feeling both complicit and unsettled.
Verdict: Tell Them You Lied is a bold debut that blends art, envy, and moral ambiguity with eerie precision. It doesn’t always land its punches cleanly, but its emotional honesty and atmospheric tension make it a memorable read for fans of complex female friendship stories and literary psychological drama.









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