Big trouble, little Salt Spring
All We Have Left
by Emily Paxman
London: Titan Books, 2026
$24.99 / 9781835417591
Reviewed by Zoe McKenna
*
One constant in Emily Paxman’s writing is unexpected genre blending. Where her first novel, Death on the Caldera, merged fantasy and mystery, her newest novel, All We Have Left, marries romance and dystopian fiction.
Paxman is an author and artist from Vancouver Island. She writes in many formats, including for indie video game company Wizard Games, and developing her webcomic, Neptune Bay, in addition to her two novels, of which All We Have Left is her second.
All We Have Left follows Kayla and her younger sister April as they navigate the world thirty-two years after a catastrophic earthquake. The sisters live on Vancouver Island, but it bears little resemblance to the world we know today. The island is overrun with paramilitary groups and vicious cults. Kayla and April have lost their parents and can trust no one they meet. The duo is content navigating the world alone until April gets sick. Though Kayla is terrified to make themselves vulnerable, she lacks the medical knowledge to keep April alive, so they travel to Salt Spring Island, where a sizeable community has established itself—and to a hospital.
Where April warms to Salt Spring almost immediately, Kayla isn’t as keen. Their time on the road, always on high alert, has Kayla’s hackles up. It all seems too good to be true, and maybe it is. The immigration process isn’t as simple as Kayla might have hoped. Resources are limited, so even while keeping the more sordid parts of her past secret, neither of the sisters is immediately welcomed. Unfortunately for everyone, Kayla’s suspicion makes her hot-tempered, and she makes a poor first impression. It seems as though they may have already overstayed their welcome when Sid, a budding politician, puts himself on the line to keep them on the island.
Kayla and April move in with Sid on his farm populated by a rag-tag group of young men. Still, this is not enough to grant the sisters any semblance of security on the island. Desperate for a better long-term solution and guaranteed medical care for April, Kayla and Sid strike a deal. They’ll get married, an act that will grant Kayla access to the healthcare April needs, and in doing so, improve Sid’s reputation in the community just in time for the local election. What seems like an easy deal quickly becomes more complicated as both Kayla and Sid have more secrets—and feelings—than either had originally let on.
Though Kayla is a challenging character to follow, her emotional depth is one of the best parts of the novel. Her past and her years as the sole protector and provider for herself and April have hardened her, and her fear and unease often manifest as anger. This characterization is unflinching, in a way that I found powerful and realistic. Kayla has been through incredible trauma, and it would be disconcerting to see no evidence of that in how she acts. Moreover, Kayla’s attitude adds an interesting layer to her romance with Sid. She is prickly at best, and Sid is forced to chip away at her shell time and time again in hopes of getting to know her better.
All We Have Left offers some of my personal favourite romance tropes: marriage of convenience, forced proximity, and fake dating. The beats are familiar, and that familiarity is welcome. To me, the formulaic nature of the romance novel is a lot of its appeal—a well-trodden path to a happily ever after is a welcome reprieve, especially if there’s some exciting will-they-or-won’t-they? along the way. Layer this with the dystopian end-of-the-world angle, and the strong Vancouver Island setting, and All We Have Left has the makings of an excellent story.
Frustratingly, despite having all the right elements in place, All We Have Left fell apart for me. Despite an excellent setting and premise, the execution was more bemusing than charming.
The novel’s timeline is very difficult to parse. While Paxman clearly states on the first page that the Quake that decimated the area occurred thirty-two years earlier, this clarity quickly erodes, and the timeline wobbles as the story progresses. Kayla sometimes speaks about the pre-Quake times as though it’s distant history, yet at other moments her knowledge and cultural references feel strangely modern. For example, Kayla does not know what a hospital is, save for what she’s read in novels, despite growing up with her parents, who lived for decades before the Quake. Yet, she recognizes an RCMP vest and seems to understand what the RCMP was before the earthquake. She knows who The Berenstain Bears are, despite that being a dated reference for a twenty-five-year-old, even today.
Later, it becomes clear that Kayla doesn’t know a weekday from a weekend, or how long an hour is, but she does understand the concept of evolution. She recognizes a briefcase, flashlight, and walkie-talkie but doesn’t know what a drill is. Not only is this frequently perplexing and seemingly random, but it undermines the broader setting, as it raises the question of how much cultural knowledge actually remains after the Quake. Paxman is clearly working to remind readers that this is not a contemporary romance, and Kayla’s life takes place in an unfamiliar dystopian future. The result, however, is more often a confused reader than a confused protagonist, which was distracting.
As well, there is much about Sid and Kayla’s relationship that feels under-realized, a fatal flaw in a romance novel. This is not for lack of time or space in the plot, but rather because Kayla and Sid’s relationship is forced to take a backseat about halfway through the story. Just as their dynamic begins to tip towards genuine feelings, the story abruptly shifts focus to Sid’s political campaign. The election quickly overshadows the central romance, pulling attention away from the couple and the secrets and emotional baggage that could be explored between them. This detour is unexpected and quite maddening, as it completely undercuts the flow of the novel and natural progression of the relationship, ultimately adding very little to the plot.
As the novel nears its conclusion, it seems to momentarily remember itself and briefly returns to a more familiar romance structure, but not for long. Sid and Kayla reveal decades of regret, guilt, and trauma to each other in a major act of vulnerability and trust. Somehow, instead of advancing their relationship, this spurs yet another shift in the novel’s focus. Rather than exploring the couple’s newfound tenderness and path toward a happily ever after, the novel devotes sudden attention to the paramilitary presence on Vancouver Island, the cult in Port Alberni, and Salt Spring Island’s relations with these groups. As a result, the romance still feels sidelined at the very moment it should take centre stage.
Somehow, the ending manages to be both chaotic and overly tidy. It rushes to revisit and resolve many major ideas, yet wraps each one up so neatly that the result feels implausible. Ultimately, All We Have Left is an excellent concept with an unsatisfying execution. Though the characters and setting shone with promise, the wandering plot meant these aspects were never fully realized. Still, Paxman’s creativity and ambition in her genre-bending is compelling, and though All We Have Left may have fallen flat, its strengths have made me interested to see what Paxman explores in the future.
[Editor’s note: in support of her book, Emily Paxman will launch her book in Victoria on July 3, 6pm, Indigo Mayfair. She’ll be in Duncan on July 11, Volume One Books, and in Nanaimo, Chapters/Indigo, on August 1, 12-3pm.]
*
Zoe McKenna received a MA from UVic and a BA from VIU. Her research focuses on horror writing, with a focus on stories by women. She was the Assistant Editor of That Witch Whispers and her writing has appeared in Black Cat, Malahat Review, and Quill & Quire. When not at her desk, Zoe can be found haunting local bookstores and hiking trails. Zoe gratefully acknowledges that she is a guest on the traditional territory of the Puneluxutth (Penelakut) and the hul’qumi’num-speaking peoples. Find her on Twitter. [Editor’s note: Zoe has reviewed recent books by David Ly, Portia Elan, Archer Campbell, Whitney French, Adam Parker, Emily Paxman, Guojing, Deni Ellis Béchard, W.K. Shephard, Ron Prasad, Peter Darbyshire, Richard Van Camp, Nalo Hopkinson, Marcus Kliewer, Ivana Filipovich, Giselle Vriesen, and Scott Alexander for BCR.]
*
The British Columbia Review
Interim Editors: Trevor Marc Hughes (nonfiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie
Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an online book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.
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