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**Shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2025**

A portrait of the artist as a young woman in a Berlin that can’t escape its history: an electric debut novel about the daughter of Afghan refugees and her year of nightclubs, bad romance, and self-discovery

‘Kaleidoscopic, full of style and soul’ Raven Leilani
‘A must-read … Dark, breathtaking, profound, so fresh’ Guardian
‘A no-bullshit must-read debut’ Kaveh Akbar
‘Delicious, propulsive reading’ Vogue

In Berlin’s underground, where techno rattles buildings still scarred with the violence of the last century, nineteen-year-old Nila finds her tribe. In their company she can escape the parallel city that made her, the public housing block packed with refugees and immigrants, where the bathrooms are infested with silverfish and the walls outside are graffitied with swastikas.

Escaping into the clubs, Nila tries to outrun the shadow of her dead mother, once a feminist revolutionary; her catatonic, defeated father; and the cab-driver uncles who seem to idle on every corner. To anyone who asks, her family is Greek, not Afghani.

And then Nila meets American writer Marlowe Woods, whose literary celebrity, though fading, opens her eyes to a world of patrons and festivals, one that imbues her dreams of life as an artist with new possibility. But as she finds herself drawn further into his orbit and ugly, barely submerged tensions begin to roil and claw beneath the city’s cosmopolitan veneer, everything she hopes for, hates, and believes about herself will be challenged.

‘Rarely has the wildness and bewilderment of youth been conveyed with such richly textured heat’ Garth Greenwell

**Shortlisted for the Bookseller’s inaugural New Adult Book Prize**

Publisher Review

A novel of overwhelming and conflicted love – for persons, for histories, for artistic creation, for Berlin. Her poet’s eye makes a thermal map of emotional landscapes, lighting up passion, desire, desperate hope, and violence — Garth Greenwell An expertly crafted, sprawling work, its prose alternately icily precise and drenched in emotion * LITERARY REVIEW * An expertly crafted, sprawling work, its prose alternately icily precise and drenched in emotion * LITERARY REVIEW * In Good Girl, pleasure is textured, surprising, and treated with utter seriousness. Aber’s prose is kaleidoscopic, full of style and soul — Raven Leilani Aria Aber’s Good Girl dives heartfirst into one of the art’s great crises: that the great searing ecstasies of youth should form us before we have the psychospiritual maturity to articulate them. Usually writing this good is realized through a gauzy patina of recollection, but in Good Girl the bass beat is still full in your chest, the coke drip’s still a numbing bitter in your throat. Aber’s ear is so remarkably good you hardly even notice she’s building this great symphony of textures, mosaics within mosaics. Seldom has the scald of shame felt so vivid, so load-bearing, so eviscerating. Good Girl is a no-bullsh*t must-read debut — Kaveh Akbar A haunting exploration of identity and desire. Nila’s journey through historic and scintillating Berlin, marked by profound loneliness and a relentless pursuit of self-discovery, makes this novel both compelling and unforgettable. The book’s poignant reflection on the urban experience is a testament to Aber’s immense storytelling talent, ensuring Good Girl remains as remarkable and timeless as the very nature of fiction itself — Morgan Talty Aber captures the seedy underside of what it means to be a party girl. She explores the intergenerational sting of what it means to be a “good girl” culturally, sexually, and socially. Her masterful prose guides the reader down the back alleys of Berlin, inviting the reader into a world all of her own making — Marlowe Granados Aria Aber’s Berlin roils, seethes and shimmers with complexity. She captures the dark history that lingers in the concrete, amid the joy and terror of youth. In sticky, electric prose, she explores family, race, reinvention, oblivion and the necessity of facing hard truths in order to own yourself, before you are swallowed by the limits the world places on you — Jessica Andrews I disappeared into the many overlapping and colliding worlds of this book and emerged with a beautifully exhausted heart – newly alive to the complexities of love and family and becoming ourselves — Leslie Jamison Charts with more precision and poetry than any novel I know the heavy inheritance that children of immigrants carry. Stunning, suspenseful, boldly defiant, and masterfully crafted … I’m haunted by the painful truth at the centre of Good Girl: that the process of breaking free inevitably breaks the self — Fatima Mirza At once euphoric and despairing, philosophical and poetic, Good Girl is a heartbreaking song of youth and desire and violence and history and the unbearable solitude of displacement — Jamil Jan Kochai Praise for Aria Aber: She is her own poet, her own voice, and her debut is my favorite volume of poetry this year * Paris Review * At turns scathing and tender, ironic and keening … There is too much barbed beauty for my few sentences to contain, though Aber’s do – elegantly; dangerously — Solmaz Sharif I appreciate a book of poems where the speaker (and, by extension, the self) aren’t let off the hook by whatever other concerns the book is circling. But, even in that process, there’s a real generosity and warmth extended, balancing not only accountability to the always shifting world but also forgiveness * GQ * An origin story and the shattering of an origin story at once. It sets out with an impossible task: How does a voice fill the gap, the void, of life as a perpetual refugee? * The Rumpus * Prepare to be turned upside down as you listen in to this blazing intelligence that juggles languages and global conflict to erase boundaries and to question other erasures — Catherine Barnett, author of Human Hours Revel in the rise of this searing, essential new voice …. Every word, every phrase crafted to incise, with its electric currents of images that make up the lives of refugee mothers, fathers, and daughters, and the inherent homesickness of language, wars. This debut seduces, critiques, mourns, ruptures, replenishes-and not without humor and wit — Sally Wen Mao