Malibu Rising

I picked up Malibu Rising because Daisy Jones and The Six had left me thinking about how Taylor Jenkins Reid writes fame. That book was all interviews and studio talk. This one promised sun and surf and a family I already half knew. Mick Riva shows up in her other books as a passing singer with charm to spare. Here he gets a past and four kids who have to live with it. The book was published in 2021 by Ballantine Books and runs 369 pages. It moves between the past of Mick and June and one long day in August 1983 when Nina throws her famous end of summer party. The house burns by morning.

I did not expect to care so much about the Riva kids as a unit. Nina is the oldest, steady and kind, a surfer and model who holds everything. Jay chases waves and girls with a big heart. Hud keeps quiet and fixes things. Kit watches and wants her own lane. They live in Malibu in a house Nina bought, close enough to hear water at night. Their father Mick drifts in and out with songs and apologies. Their mother June is gone, lost to drink and grief years before the party. The book tells how they got to that August day and then stays inside the party hour by hour until fire takes the house on the cliff.

Reid writes this one in close third person with short cuts to party guests, which keeps it moving. If you liked her music books, the tone here is warmer and less clipped. There is still plenty about being looked at, being wanted, being used. But the center is sibling loyalty more than romance. I finished it liking Nina a lot, feeling sore about June, and feeling less charmed by Mick than the book sometimes wants me to be. That tension kept me reading.

June and Mick Before the Fame

June Costas grows up in Malibu when it is still more fishing and surf shacks than stars. Her parents run a small restaurant near the water. She is kind, careful, and lonely in the way of an only child who works long hours. Mick Riva comes into the restaurant one night, young and hungry, with a guitar and a smile that fills the room. He sings at weddings and bars. He tells June she is the prettiest girl he has seen. She believes him because she wants to, and because he sings it like he means it. They marry young. For a while it is sweet. He plays local spots. She keeps books. They eat with her parents. The sea is right there.

Mick gets his break when a producer hears him and likes the easy croon. He records, tours a little, then a lot. June stays home, first with Nina, then with the boys and Kit. Fame changes what Mick wants from a night. He likes clubs, late hours, women who laugh at his stories. He cheats, first in ways he hides, then in ways the papers print. June drinks to get through evenings alone. She tries to stop, starts again, tries again. Her parents help with the kids when they can. Friends cover for Mick because he tips well and remembers names. June waits by the phone and then stops waiting. Reid does not rush this part, which I appreciated. You see a marriage thin out month by month rather than snap all at once.

The split that matters comes after Mick leaves for good and June has to raise four kids with little money and a drinking habit that keeps growing. She works, she loves them fiercely, she fails them in small daily ways that add up. There is a scene where Nina, still a teen, starts cooking and keeping lists because someone has to. Another where June misses a school pickup and Jay covers with a lie that sounds practiced. Mick sends checks when his manager reminds him and shows up for photos when a record needs press. June dies when Kit is still young, after years of strain on her body and heart. The kids bury her and decide, without saying it straight, that Nina is in charge now. That early loss shapes every choice they make in 1983.

Nina Holds the Family Together

Nina Riva learns to surf before she learns to drive. Jay follows her into the water. Soon both are known at the local breaks, Nina for grace and nerve, Jay for drive. Nina starts modeling as a teen to pay bills, then gets real work, then magazine covers. She hates parts of it, the waiting, the hands on her hair, the way men talk past her. But the money lets her buy the house on the cliff and keep the family fed. She marries Brandon Randall, a tennis pro with a bright smile, because he seems kind and steady and outside the Riva mess. For a time the marriage looks like escape. They live in the house, host small dinners, pose for photos that sell a calm life.

Jay becomes a strong competitive surfer with sponsors and a reputation for charm. He loves women, loves praise, loves being Nina's brother in lineups where locals respect the name. Hud stays back from contests, works as a photographer, shoots his siblings in the water at dawn. He is the one who remembers birthdays, who drives Kit to practice, who listens longest. Kit, the youngest, feels the gap June left most. She surfs too, angry and gifted, tired of being called the baby. She works at a surf shop, saves, wonders if she should leave Malibu to find out who she is without the family story. The four fall into roles that help them survive. Nina pays and plans. Jay shines. Hud steadies. Kit pushes.

What Reid gets right here is how care becomes control without anyone meaning harm. Nina checks Jay's contest times, Hud's bills, Kit's school forms. She tells herself she is fine, that Brandon is enough, that the past is past. But she keeps the house too full and her own needs too quiet. There is a sad stretch where Brandon wants more of her attention and she cannot give it because the siblings still need her at midnight. He starts to stray, first with long practices, then with a woman who asks little. Nina finds out in the plain way people do, a receipt, a wrong time, a friend who talks too much. She does not scream. She files it away until the party day, when she decides she is done. Nina choosing herself, late and clear, is the spine of the book.

Jay, Hud, and Kit Grow Up Surfing

Surfing is not decoration in this book. It is how the Rivas talk when words fail. Nina and Jay paddle out early to settle nerves. Hud shoots from the rocks when he cannot sleep. Kit takes hard waves to prove she can hold her own. Reid writes water well, the cold shock, the wait between sets, the quick math of takeoff. She knows local rules too, who gets priority, who snakes, who gets a look for dropping in. Jay learns to win without being cruel, mostly. Nina learns to surf pregnant with expectation, carrying the family name like a board under her arm. Kit learns that talent does not fix being lonely. Hud learns to love watching more than riding, which costs him with Jay.

One long middle section follows the siblings through late teens into the early eighties. Nina models in Los Angeles and comes home tired with money and stories she edits. Jay wins juniors, loses seniors, wins again, drinks too much at bonfires. Hud dates, pulls back, dates again, keeps a secret about a girl Jay also liked. Kit grows tall, cuts her hair, beats boys who mock her and then feels sick about it. They fight about money, about Mick showing up at contests with new girlfriends, about June's grave and who visits. They also show up for each other without being asked. Jay drives Kit home when her bike breaks. Hud lends Jay cash for entry fees. Nina sits with Hud after a bad night without prying.

Mick floats at the edge of these years, recording hits, marrying briefly, divorcing. He calls on birthdays when someone prompts him. He sends a guitar Jay never plays. He offers Kit advice about fame she did not ask for. The kids learn to expect little, which protects them and also hardens them. When Mick says he will come to the 1983 party, they each react true to type. Nina plans food anyway. Jay jokes about security. Hud hopes quietly. Kit says she does not care and cares most.

The Party Invitation Goes Out

Nina's end of summer party has grown year by year from a small barbecue to a Malibu event people lie to attend. In 1983 she decides to go big because her marriage is ending and she wants one loud night before she tells the truth. She and Kit make lists, buy ice, stack towels, warn neighbors who plan to come anyway. Word spreads through surf shops, restaurants, studios, gyms. Brandon hears and assumes he is still co host. Nina does not correct him yet. Jay invites half the surf tour. Hud invites his photo friends and the girl he cannot stop thinking about. Kit invites coworkers and a boy she likes who does not know how to act around Rivas. By noon the house smells of citrus and sunscreen.

Reid cuts to guests as they arrive, which some readers will love and some will find busy. There is a young model who wants Nina's life, a producer who wants Mick's ear, a neighbor who wants quiet. There is also Mick himself, driving up the coast with a new shirt and old lines, telling himself this time will be different. He brings gifts, which is his love language when words fail. June is gone, so there is no buffer between him and the kids. The house fills. Music starts. The light goes gold over the water and everyone feels rich for an hour.

I liked how the book handles Nina's decision about Brandon in these hours. She does not make a speech. She watches him work the room as if nothing is wrong and feels the last pull loosen. She tells one friend, then Hud, then herself in a bathroom mirror. She will ask him to leave after the party. She will keep the house. Around her, Jay drinks and flirts, Hud avoids and then seeks, Kit tests limits. The party is fun on the surface and tight underneath, like a drum.

August 1983 Night Unravels

Night comes and the party turns. Jay gets drunk and chases a girl who likes the chase more than him. He says the wrong thing, tries to fix it with charm, fails, tries again. Hud finally talks honestly with the woman both brothers have feelings for, and the talk spills where Jay can hear it. Brothers who have shared boards and beds and grief find they cannot share this. They fight with words first, then with hands near the pool while people watch and pretend not to. Hud tells the truth about months of quiet love. Jay hears betrayal where Hud means honesty. Neither is fully right. Both are hurt in ways that predate the girl. It takes Kit shouting to break them apart, Kit who is tired of cleaning up after men who should know better.

Kit has her own hard night. She drinks too fast, lets a boy she barely likes pull her into a bedroom for attention she thinks she wants, then feels small after. She leaves, walks to the cliff, breathes salt air until her head clears. A friend finds her and sits without advice, which helps most. She thinks about June, about being the youngest at a grave, about how Nina raised her more than anyone. She decides to tell Nina she wants to try a year away, maybe school up north, maybe travel for contests on her own name. It is not running. It is choosing. Reid writes Kit's shame and resolve without leering and without preaching. The pages are careful and kind. I found them among the strongest in the book.

Nina moves through all this trying to host while her heart breaks in private. She talks to Mick, who wants a photo and a song and a story where he is the good dad. She tells him plainly what his absence cost, not shouting, not crying, just naming years. He listens for once, or seems to. He plays a little, sings, charms guests who do not know the bill. Brandon tries to pull Nina close for cameras. She steps back. She tells him it is over, quietly, near the kitchen where June once cooked. He argues, then begs, then leaves with his pride cracked. Guests sense a shift and drink more to cover it. Someone lights something careless. Someone else does not put it out. The house, dry wood and wind off the sea, catches.

Fire and What Morning Keeps

Fire in Malibu is never just plot. It is weather, history, fact. Reid handles the burn as chaos with clear beats. Smoke in a hallway. A curtain going fast. People running with shoes in hands. Jay pulling a stranger from the pool deck. Hud grabbing cameras and then dropping them to grab a kid. Kit finding Nina in the crowd and holding on. Mick standing on the lawn watching the house his daughter bought go orange, understanding too late that gifts never made a home. Neighbors call. Trucks come up the hill too slow. The sky goes black and then strange light. By dawn the house is gone in parts, charred and open to air. No one the reader loves dies, which feels merciful and also honest. The loss is shelter and proof, not bodies.

Morning after is my favorite part because it refuses big speeches. Nina stands with her siblings on the cliff and looks at what is left. She tells Brandon's absence like weather, past and done. She tells Mick he cannot fix this with money or songs, and that they love him but do not need him to lead. Jay apologizes to Hud without excuses. Hud forgives without pretending it did not hurt. Kit says she wants to go and they listen. They divide tasks, call insurance, borrow clothes, eat cold food on the sand. The party that was supposed to prove they were fine proves they can survive not being fine. That lands harder than any toast.

There are fair criticisms to make. Mick stays thin as a character, charming and selfish in loops, and the book sometimes asks for pity he has not earned. A few guest chapters feel like padding when the siblings already carry enough. The timeline jumps early on can blur, especially around June's decline, and readers who want dates pinned down may flip back. The prose leans smooth when it could bite, especially about addiction and modeling pressure. Still, the core holds. Four kids who raised each other learn to keep each other without losing themselves. Nina stops saving everyone at her own expense. The sea stays. The house can go. I closed the book smelling smoke and salt, glad they got out, gladder they stayed close on new terms.