The Sorcery of White Rats

Adam Bertocci’s The Sorcery of White Rats is one of those books that’s hard to explain, but once you’re in, you’re in. Part comedy, part cosmic meltdown, part heartfelt ode to female friendship, it’s a weird, wonderful ride through the minds of two young women just trying to survive life, art, and the end of the world.

Our narrator, Bristol Volavaunt, is an underemployed artist living in a crummy apartment over a pet store, navigating a quarter-life crisis with a mix of sarcasm, self-doubt, and stubborn hope. She’s the kind of character you instantly get: awkward, observant, quietly talented, and just trying to find something that sticks. “She believed in herself, for some reason,” the narrator quips early on, and that line sums her up.

Then there’s Monroe, her wild, charming roommate who wakes up one morning after a vivid vision where she sees the world end: fire, destruction, doom, the works. “We have to get out of the city,” she repeats like a mantra, while Bristol tries to hold it all together. Is Monroe having a mental breakdown, or is she really some kind of prophet? And if it’s the latter, why her?

The story follows their search for answers, which leads them to Xochitl, an old college acquaintance of Bristol’s and a dream researcher with a sharp tongue and zero patience for nonsense. Their scenes together are a mix of awkward tension and hilarious deadpan, especially when Monroe starts channeling what might be a higher power, or something much worse.

One of the book’s biggest strengths is how it handles the messy, unglamorous parts of being a creative person. It doesn’t romanticize the starving artist life; it shows the anxiety, the rejection, the “what am I even doing?” moments. But it also captures the magic of finding your people. “This is the person who believes in me the most,” Bristol says of Monroe, and that line hit me harder than any of the apocalyptic prophecies.

Yes, there’s end-of-the-world drama, but it’s a story about friendship, deep, complicated, ride-or-die friendship, and what it means to support someone through something you don’t fully understand. Bertocci blends humor, philosophy, and some truly poetic writing (“She hummed a little tune… sweet and simple and sad”) with dialogue that’s sharp and real.

The Sorcery of White Rats is strange in all the best ways. If you like stories about oddball creatives, found family, and maybe-God-maybe-crazy visions of doom, this one’s for you. Just be ready for things to get weird and surprisingly moving.