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I Wanted to Love Every Year After. Here's Why I Didn't.

Young couple sits on a cooler at the beach, woman leaning on man’s shoulder in warm sunlight, tender and calm.

Some stories feel as though they were written with the page in mind.


Carley Fortune's Every Summer After is one of them.


When I first read the novel, what stayed with me wasn't the plot as much as the feeling it created. The story spends so much time inside Percy's head that you come to understand not only what she's doing, but why she's doing it. Every hesitation, every memory, every moment of guilt gradually builds toward an emotional payoff that feels earned because you've lived inside those emotions with her.


That kind of intimacy is difficult to recreate on screen.


Unfortunately, I think that's where Every Year After struggled the most.


I didn't dislike the adaptation. In fact, there were moments I genuinely enjoyed. But by the time the credits rolled, I realized I'd spent more time watching the story unfold than actually feeling it.


The Story Never Quite Pulled Me In


One of the biggest differences between reading a novel and watching its adaptation is perspective.


Books allow us to live inside a character's thoughts. We understand the emotions behind every awkward conversation, every decision, and every silence because we're experiencing the story alongside them. Film doesn't have that same luxury. It has to communicate those emotions through performances, dialogue, and visual storytelling.


For me, Every Year After never fully bridged that gap.


The emotional stakes always felt just out of reach. I understood what Percy and Sam were feeling intellectually, but I rarely felt it alongside them. The result was a romance that felt more distant than immersive, even during moments that should have carried significant emotional weight.


The Flashbacks Started to Lose Their Impact


I understand why the story relies on flashbacks.


The relationship between Percy and Sam only works if we understand the years that shaped it. The past and present are meant to inform one another, gradually revealing why their reunion matters so much.


The problem wasn't the flashbacks themselves.


It was how frequently they interrupted the present-day story.


Just as I found myself settling into one timeline, the narrative shifted to another. Rather than creating anticipation, those transitions eventually made it difficult for me to become emotionally invested in either version of the story.


Instead of feeling layered, the pacing began to feel fragmented.


Sometimes Less Mystery Creates More Emotion


Another thing I struggled with was how reserved the adaptation often felt.


There's a fine line between trusting your audience and asking them to fill in too many emotional gaps. Throughout the series, I kept waiting for certain conversations to become more honest, for characters to express what they had been carrying for so many years, and for the emotional tension to finally break.


Instead, much of that tension remained understated.


Combined with the repeated missed opportunities for Percy and Sam to simply communicate with one another, the story occasionally felt as though it was prolonging the inevitable rather than deepening it. Miscommunication has never been my favorite romance trope, and here it became more frustrating than emotionally compelling.


The Changes Weren't My Biggest Issue


Every adaptation changes things.


I've never believed a movie or television series has to recreate a book scene for scene in order to be successful. Some of my favorite adaptations take significant creative liberties because they understand that books and film are entirely different mediums.


That wasn't really my issue with Every Year After.


The changes themselves didn't bother me nearly as much as the overall feeling they created. The adaptation expanded certain storylines, adjusted others, and introduced a few new dynamics, but none of those decisions fundamentally affected my experience.


What I missed was the emotional intimacy.


The book made me feel as though I knew Percy.


The adaptation made me feel as though I was simply watching her.


That's a subtle distinction, but it changed the entire experience for me.


One Bright Spot


One thing I genuinely loved was the unexpected mini Fate: The Winx Saga reunion.


As someone who enjoyed the series, it was fun seeing familiar faces share the screen again.


It was a small detail in the grand scheme of the adaptation, but one that brought a smile to my face whenever those characters appeared.


Sometimes the little surprises end up being some of your favorite moments.


Final Thoughts


I have no doubt there will be viewers who connect with Every Year After, particularly those experiencing the story for the first time.


For me, though, the adaptation never quite captured the emotional closeness that made Every Summer After so memorable. It wasn't the changes that held it back, and it certainly wasn't the performances. More than anything, I think this was simply a story whose greatest strength lived inside its characters' thoughts, and that's one of the hardest things to translate from page to screen.


Solid black image with no visible subjects, text, or details

Book cover of Every Summer After by Carley Fortune, with two people jumping on a beach under a blue sky and ocean backdrop.


I Wanted to Love Every Year After. Here's Why I Didn't.

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