Pulitzer Prize Finalist 2026





One of TIME's 100 Must-Read Books of 2025 and Electric Lit's Best Nonfiction of 2025





At first, Hala's baby is the size of a poppyseed. Then a grain of rice, then a lime. After years of trying for a baby, Hala watches from afar as her daughter grows in the body of another woman, in another country.





Hala is not just awaiting news from the surrogate. She also holds her breath as Palestine and Lebanon, her estranged homelands, are under fire. She remembers family stories of grandmothers mapping their lives through a tangle of borders; of eradicated villages, invading armies and places of refuge that proved only temporary; of men who left, women who stayed, and the legacies passed down from one to another.





Stunningly lyrical and unflinchingly honest, I'll Tell You When I'm Home is a powerful story of unravelling and becoming, of homelands lost and reimagined, and of the intimate ways we learn to make a life when the ground beneath us shifts.



'An emotion-packed exploration of the impact of loss on identity.'



'[A] gorgeous, lyrical memoir ... I'll Tell You When I'm Home shows the power of even a single narrative to resist the deliberate erasure of a people and their homeland, the violence of colonisation.'



'Alyan's poetic prose encapsulates miles in each sentence and paragraph; joyfully, revisiting a passage is another chance at uncovering a new gift. Her nonfiction narrative voice allows the poet in her to shine, especially as each chapter is told in a series of short glimpses weaving together past and present, the old and the new Hala. ... With I'll Tell You When I'm Home, Alyan has created a record, a story to communicate with those departed and those new to life. In the process, her work is an antidote for others searching for a home they never asked to lose.'



'A Palestinian American writer explores her winding path to motherhood amid the COVID crisis, braiding strands of memory into a shimmering tapestry.'



'Alyan's writing doesn't offer easy answers; it gives voice to the ache and beauty of diasporic existence.'



'A poignant exploration of her tumultuous path to parenthood, identity, and displacement … The memoir unfolds like the tale of Scheherazade from One Thousand and One Nights, where Hala becomes the 'waiting woman,' reckoning with all the truths of her life before stepping into motherhood … a stunning kaleidoscope of vignettes … More than a story of motherhood and exile, I'll Tell You When I'm Home is a testimony of everything at once … a moving tribute to the strength of those forced from their homelands and ruthlessly exploited, as well as a celebration of women's determination to survive and thrive.'



'[A] lyrical memoir that explores the trauma of fractured identity.'



'Alyan's prose captures the disjointed nature of grief and healing, exploring what it means to reconstruct one's identity while navigating the complexities of multiple cultures, bodies, and emotional boundaries.'



'The long-awaited memoir of the Salt Houses author is not just a story of Palestinian displacement, but also an exploration of motherhood. In her deeply personal autobiography, Alyan shares painful experiences of miscarriages and infertility and ultimately her decision to use a surrogate. As much as it is her own life story, it is also the story of the women in her life: her mother and two grandmothers and their survival through endless war, displacement and exile.'



'Ultimately, Alyan positions her journey as a powerful resistance to erasure - a way to reclaim a stolen past and secure a narrative for the new life she is about to bring into the world. Superb.'



'No one knows the human heart like Hala Alyan.'



'Hala Alyan is a lyrical force, a much-needed Arab American voice.'



'When plumbing the intricacies of race and womanhood, Alyan turns paragraphs into poetry.'



'I don't exactly understand how Hala Alyan does it—conjures love, sorrow, betrayal, and joy; goes from being funny and warm to incisive and thoughtful—but as a reader, I'm glad that she does'



'A story of the violence of exile over generations, a profound desire for motherhood, as well as surrogacy, addiction and the importance of remembering … a story of war and loss – of country, but also of friends, lovers and ultimately her marriage … questioning and lyrical.'