They Tried Their Best is a wildly sharp, emotionally layered novella about one womanās reluctant journey through a collapsing world, bad dates, worse bosses, and the quiet triumph of choosing herself.
Our unnamed narrator is a deeply relatable, darkly funny thirty-something who just wants chips, her dogs, and maybeāif the universe allows itāa real, meaningful connection. But when everything from her love life to global politics begins to unravel, she does the only rational thing: builds a bunker.
As humanity spirals toward its inevitable end, sheās forced to confront what she actually wants from lifeāand whether survival means living for herself or still hoping to be chosen by someone else.
With biting social commentary, unexpected tenderness, and surreal twists, this novella explores what it means to be loved, to be lonely, and to matter in a world thatās increasingly falling apart.
They Tried Their Best is a wildly sharp, emotionally layered novella about one womanās reluctant journey through a collapsing world, bad dates, worse bosses, and the quiet triumph of choosing herself.
Our unnamed narrator is a deeply relatable, darkly funny thirty-something who just wants chips, her dogs, and maybeāif the universe allows itāa real, meaningful connection. But when everything from her love life to global politics begins to unravel, she does the only rational thing: builds a bunker.
As humanity spirals toward its inevitable end, sheās forced to confront what she actually wants from lifeāand whether survival means living for herself or still hoping to be chosen by someone else.
With biting social commentary, unexpected tenderness, and surreal twists, this novella explores what it means to be loved, to be lonely, and to matter in a world thatās increasingly falling apart.
HONEY IāM HOME
I swing open the door and kick off my shoes. āHey Honey, You will never guess what happened at work today.ā
Quick little pitter-patters grow in volume until a mess of chocolate and caramel hair rushes into view. I smile widely. He jumps up towards me, rebounding against my body to climb higher.
I giggle, and grab him, holding him firmly against my chest. āLook at you being so cute.ā
He rubs his face against mine and licks ferociously. I rub behind his ears and chin; cooing at him.
āI missed you too much today, Honey. I need to convince my boss to let me work from home. Iām thinking about pasta for dinner. I deserve it. Itās my birthday and I go to the gym, mostly, sometimes. Anyways, pasta sounds great right?ā
Honey settles into the nape of my neck and I stroke along his back. I walk towards the fridge and open it up. Itās practically bare aside from a jar of pickles, an unreasonable amount of sauces, cheese and a cake box.
I laugh. āAs great as pickle and cheese pasta sounds, I think Iāll order in.ā
I walk through to the lounge and slump onto the couch. Honey climbs over my shoulder and lays on the ledge behind my head. I take my phone from my pocket and swipe through. I click onto the food delivery app. I scroll through the options, my hunger making it impossible to choose. I want noodles and dahl curry and sushi and steak. I want to fill my stomach until I feel beyond satisfied, the type of fullness that distracts from all other voids. I sigh, will any of this make me happy? I exit the app, and move onto another that is meant to be for intellectuals to connect through various forums but has since developed into a septic echo chamber. I scroll through the endless questions about sex and general depravity. I click on a news update, and fall into an endless pit of doom reading. Germany has banned free speech, America threatens to claim Canada, Russia and Ukraine begin using ballistic missiles, meteors might end the Earth in 2025, South Africa begins taking land rights from White people, China causes global deforestation, the Middle East is basically just being the Middle Eastā¦ I would feel so much better about things if I had a bunker. My stomach burns and I flip back to the food app. I put a steak salad into the cart and checkout. I click on the TV and flip through several apps until I find the same thing I watch almost everyday. I can basically repeat it word for word. Somehow it still brings me a sort of comfortable joy. I barely laugh at the jokes or engage with undivided attention but it is like being with people you love who you have known for an incredibly long time. You can anticipate their reactions and feel somewhat safe around them. It might not be exciting but you know you wont get hurt. Or at least you know how you will get hurt. I pick up my phone and scroll through an app that is meant to be for photography but has also turned into porn and reels of nonsense. Honey sits up. His ears twitch this way and that. He rushes towards the door and yaps manically. The door bell rings. I give it a minute, pick Honey up and open the door. No contact is the best thing that came from the global lock down. If it were possible for a drone to deliver my food that would be preferable. I snatch my food off of the porch and lock myself back up. I put honey down gently. Heās now content having seen we have no visitors. I walk back to the couch and unpack the bag. I open up the plastic cutlery and cardboard container. I eat with my eyes on the TV, but I barely take in the flavour or the show. Instead I exist inside in screensaver mode; deep inside my mind and fully numb. I scrape the last of the salad onto my fork and take the container back to the bin. I open the fridge and take out the cake box. I fetch my lighter and return to the lounge. I open the box, pull out my designer cupcake and light the candle in the shape of thirty. I sing quietly to myself and blow out the flame. I delicately remove the candle and lick off the frosting. I put it to the side and bite into the cupcake. Cake isnāt as good as it used to be. The idea of it is always better than the reality, most likely because the memory of it is linked to sweeter times- childhood parties, weddings and big achievements. Thereās a time in your life where everything feels so full of celebration. Each effort made grants for award. Then you enter the workforce and everyday becomes the same. Itās like a living nightmare. I have the same conversations with the same people regardless of where I work. We are all a part of the problem. All of us clocking in and out to enjoy distilled water and food with a quarter of the typical nutrients. I huff and frown at the cupcake. I chuck it in the bin and check my watch: ten to nine pm. I walk to the bathroom with Honey following beneath my feet, pick up my tooth brush and examine myself in the mirror. I wonder how much it would cost to make your jawline more pronounced. I put some toothpaste on the brush and clean my teeth. I look at all the various angles in which my chin is unpleasing. Maybe I could blackout my neck. Tess will lecture me heavily and the rest of my family will gossip about how atrocious it looks. I think I would like it though and honestly I donāt see how it would make much of a difference at this point. I spit and rinse out my mouth, cleaning the sink as I go. I wash my face and pat it dry, before applying blush stain, a sleep mask and lip serum. I should probably start getting Botox soon. Tess looks the same age as me now because of Botox. Honey jumps up onto my leg, his eyes full of adoration and pleading.
āI know little, but I canāt let you in the bed because you pee everywhere.ā
He scratches his nails against my calve and whimpers. A weight tugs down on my heart. I need to get him a friend. I hate knowing he sleeps alone now. I donāt know what will stop him from peeing on the bed though and I canāt sleep in a bed full of pee so we are at a bit of an impasse.
āOne more episode, then Iāll go to bed, okay?ā
I pick him up, hugging him tightly to my chest. I walk us into the lounge and put the show back on. I hit play and lay down. He snuggles into me. I pet him lazily as I mumble along to the theme song. Oh shit this is when they break up. Skip. The theme song plays again. I think itās lazy writing to have the main couple break up to increase the tension. There are so many things that could have happened instead to keep the show interesting and the plot fun. I want chips. Why did I not give in and buy chips at the store. I know it is inevitable that I will want them and then their lack of existence causes a real bad case of annoyance. The last thing I want to do in winter is grocery shop and ordering online is far too expensive to warrant doing when Iām really just being lazy. So now Iām insanely snackish with no available snacks or hungry with no available food. I smile at a joke Iāve heard too many times to laugh at. My phone vibrates. Honey lifts his head. I open it quickly, feeling a flutter of excitement.
90% sale on all winter items. Buy one get one free jackets. Sale stands until the 1st or until stock lasts.
I clear the notification and click open the forums app. I scroll through the relentless attention seeking posts. I donāt know why my feed is so full of this shit. A selfie taken in perfect lighting with glam make up on and a caption that says āFeeling so uglyā¦ Please helpā or āSister thinks I should get a nose job, is she right?ā I huff and move onto the photography app. I quickly exit out after five tarot readers say that a message is meant to find me. I open a video shorts app and watch half naked people get ready for important functions that they are super late for. I switch over to the app store. I type āFind Loveā into the search bar, delete it and type it in again. Do I really want to do that whole thing again? It is never worth it. Iām inevitably going to pick up some insane person who completely destroys my peace in some totally new and heinous way. Dating as you get older is not for the weak. The people who are not married are single for a reason. Mine being that I gave most of my life to an arsehole who didnāt like me all that much, and I am now exceptionally reclusive. The times I have dated since my childhood āsweetheartā have been disastrousā¦ really reinforces my distrust of people. The show ends. I close all the tabs open on my phone and pet Honey.
I kiss the top of his head. āNight little.ā
I walk into my bedroom, him following quickly behind me. I put a foot out to stop him from running in as I open the door.
āIām sorry.ā
I hop into bed and open my phone. I go to a video app and type in ASMR. I scroll through until I find āShy nerd plays with your hair because you are gorgeousā. I click on it, hit the like button and subscribe.
ABOUT SIX MONTHS LATER
TWO
THE DATE
My phone buzzes. I pick it up and smile. Stephenās name adorned with hearts and flowers lights up my screen. I click on it.
āYou ready for tonight? Wear something nice.ā
My thumbs move quickly across my keyboard. I look at the message, hold down the delete key and type again. I repeat the process a few times until my message no longer reads as though I am the worlds most excited person.
āReady. I have something in mind. What time should I be outside?ā
I watch the three dots move for an instant.
ā7.ā
āK.ā
I smile widely and shake my legs. I am beyond ready for the weekend. I hope we get to spend more time together though. Our Friday dates have become a staple but he has the tendency to ghost me for the rest of the weekend. Tess set us up though so he canāt be dodgy. I am sure of it. I havenāt felt any bad vibes. I turn back to my computer, click out of excel and stand up. I walk over to my managers office and knock on the door.
He smiles brightly at me. āCome in.ā
āHey, Jamie.ā
āWhatās up?ā
āI was just sort of wondering if maybe I could leave a tad early today? Iāve gotten through everything that needs to be done before Monday and I donāt mind working a couple extra hours at home tomorrow.ā
Jamie waves his hand through the air lazily. āNah, donāt worry about it. Youāre more than welcome to have some time. Iām always happy to listen if you have something going on.ā
āThank you so much. Youāre literally the best.ā
āOh definitely not but I appreciate it. What are you getting up to this weekend?ā
āNothing much honestly, but Iām thinking of maybe getting a new tattoo.ā
āOh, well, if youāre free some of us are going to play waterpolo at the rec centre. You should come, do you mind if I text you the details?ā
I bite my lip. āSure, if itās before the tattoo.ā
āGreat, good, yeah. I canāt wait to have you on the team.ā
I smile with one side of my mouth. āIt will be a good reason to get out of the house. Do you mind if I leave like now?ā
āOh yeah, of course.ā
Iāve always got the vibe that Jamie gives me special treatment. I think he might like me but he seems like a good person and he is very married so I canāt imagine he means any harm. Sometimes he lingers though.
They Tried Their Best
By Kimlyn Stanyon
Publisher: Kimlyn Stanyon
Publication Date: July 15, 2025
ASIN: B0FC83DT39
78 Pages
Star Rating: āāāā
Dread Factor: š
What Did I Just Walk Into?
Imagine you're barely holding it together, the world is on fire (literally and figuratively), your love life is a wasteland, your boss thinks āteam-buildingā means unpaid overtime, and the best part of your day involves eating chips in silence with your dogs. Thatās our narratorārelatable AF and tired of trying to act like everythingās fine when clearly, itās not.
In They Tried Their Best, Kimlyn Stanyon delivers a short but emotionally loaded punch of a story that feels like a conversation with your most honest (and unhinged) inner voice. Our unnamed narrator isn't setting out to save the worldāshe's just trying to survive it without completely unraveling. When the news cycle becomes unbearable and every social interaction feels like a performance, she does what most of us have fantasized about during a late-night doomscroll session: she builds a bunker. For real.
What follows isnāt just a story about withdrawal from societyāitās about confronting what survival really means. Is it enough to just not die? Or do we have to fight for something moreālike joy, connection, purpose? And how do you do that when your coping mechanism is sarcasm and your last date made you want to punch a wall?
Hereās What Slapped:
Bone-dry humor mixed with painfully honest introspection.
A narrator who feels like your inner monologue during a 3 a.m. existential crisis.
Tenderness wrapped in snark. Vulnerability hidden under emotional armor.
What Couldāve Been Better:
Iād pay good money for 100 more pages of this emotional chaos.
Not for readers who want plot-heavy or action-driven narratives. This one simmers.
Perfect for Readers Who Love:
š Millennial apocalypse moods
š Sarcastic emotional processing
š Dogs, solitude, and snacks
š Quiet books that scream on the inside
š Humor masking an identity crisis
Vibe Check:
This is what it feels like to spiralā¦ but aesthetically.
Reviewed by Robin for Robinās Review