Carrie Bradshaw is now a novelist. After writing seven bestselling nonfiction books about sex and dating—with titles like Menhattan and A Single Life—the former columnist in her fifties is trying her hand at fiction. And no, this book isn’t about a single woman navigating New York’s dating scene. Instead, it follows a 19th-century woman having an existential crisis—which, in some ways, feels even more true to Carrie Bradshaw than anything the And Just Like That writers could have dreamed up.

But what’s the book actually about? Throughout the show’s third season, we get hints—lines typed in oversized font (brave, Carrie) and narrated aloud as she writes in Pages. We know it’s set in 1864, involves a romance, and was inspired by her new Gramercy Park duplex (so much so that she hasn’t even furnished it properly). But what else? Here’s every clue we’ve gotten so far, pieced together to map out the plot.

### Episode One
“The woman wondered what she had gotten herself into.”

The book opens mid-incident—we don’t know what exactly the protagonist has stumbled into, but since Carrie was on the phone with Aidan before suddenly feeling inspired to write, we can guess it’s some kind of romantic entanglement.

### Episode Two
“Sitting in the sunlight, the woman felt the fog of the last two nights lift. She realized her recent tossing and turning and insecurities were remnants of another time. A time when she was less sure of her path. This is a new house, she reminded herself. A new life. This wasn’t her past, it was the present. May, 1864.”

So maybe the woman isn’t unhappy in her relationship—she just won’t let herself be happy? The story is set in 1864, near the end of the Civil War, post-Manhattan draft riots, with Lincoln as president. Could her protagonist, like Carrie, be emerging from instability and struggling to settle into her new life?

“The woman lifted her petticoat and hurried up the twisted iron staircase. She stepped carefully in her dove grey button boots to make sure that she wouldn’t stumble as she crossed the threshold and went on her way.”

Carrie narrates this while climbing her own iron staircase. Coincidence? Probably not—her Gramercy Park home was built around 1846, so the timeline fits.

### Episode Three
“The woman had survived the treacherous journey, mostly intact—albeit dispossessed of her nightgown and carpet bag. With little more than her thoughts for company, she burrowed beneath her blankets to stave off the cold, uncertain night ahead.”

Why did this woman leave her Gramercy townhouse (likely by horse-drawn carriage)? No idea. But since the parallels are strong, she probably—like Carrie visiting Virginia—went for love-related reasons she may regret later.

### Episode Four
“The woman glanced out of her train compartment, mystified—not quite sure if her taxing journey had brought her closer to, or further from, the things she most longed for.”

Ah, so she took a train to see her lover—a bold move, since trains were still relatively new in New York. And, surprise, she’s still unsure about the relationship. Sound familiar?

### Episode Five
“The woman threw open her windows to let the city in. She could hear the horse…”

(Text cuts off, but we can assume the story continues with more of Carrie’s signature introspection—blending her own life with her protagonist’s in a way that feels unmistakably her.)Here’s a more natural and fluent version of your text while keeping the original meaning intact:

—

People came and went with their carriages, each arrival bringing new possibilities. The sudden cool breeze on that hot afternoon reminded her that every day could be different—full of adventures if she only had the courage to take them. Stepping off the familiar path, she decided to let the day lead her wherever it might.

At this point, it’s clear that “the woman” is essentially Carrie, just 160 years earlier. Unlike Carrie, though, she seems more aware that her relationship is holding her back emotionally. Carrie, take notes! Run free in your Terry de Havilland heels!

Episode Six
“Lilies of the valley in the garden bowed their delicate white bonnets in the pounding rain as the woman inside braved the unknown.”

Am I imagining things, or does this sound a little… suggestive? For context, Episode 6 is when Duncan invites Carrie over for that strange stew. Just saying!

“Despite the shatter, the woman knew the break wasn’t fatal. With time and care, it would mend—because the ties that bound them were stronger than spun glass.”

When Aidan smashes Carrie’s window, she says, “These windows survived the Mexican War, the Civil War, the draft riots of ’63…” So basically, Carrie is being haunted by “the woman” in her daily life. She is the woman. That explains why she starts wearing those old-fashioned dresses and why the window smashing happens in the book too.

Episode Seven
“The woman held on to what she knew to be true.”

Don’t we all? And will she ever get a name?

Episode Eight
“After what seemed like forever, happiness arrived at her doorstep—unexpected, like a rare red bird suddenly appearing in the garden. You hold your breath, staying perfectly still, afraid it might fly away.”

I suspect Sarah Jessica Parker wrote this herself—it sounds just like when she freaked out over the 2017 eclipse, shouting about “birds that are rarely ever seen.” What’s making the woman so happy here? Maybe her own version of Duncan has entered the picture.

Episode Nine
“The woman had thought she and her love were living in the present, but now she saw they were still trapped in the past. Which meant, of course, they had no future.”

Hooray! 19th-century Carrie finally dumped 19th-century Aidan!

Episode Ten
“Autumn arrived. As leaves turned gold and the air grew crisp, the woman found herself again. Hours became days, days became weeks, pain turned into productivity. The family that would never fill her home—or her heart—faded away, like a golden leaf turning brown at her feet. She had done all she could. She had done all she could. She had done all she could.”

If Duncan were really such a great writer, he’d have told Carrie to skip the seasonal clichés and that repeating the same line three times doesn’t work. But hey, this is a book within a TV show, so… moving on!

It seems the woman is finally accepting things—until Duncan drops a twist:

“Also clever: Having the man survive the war, only to die from an untreated wound from an earlier battle? Surprising.”

Wait, so maybe 19th-century Carrie didn’t actually break up with 19th-century Aidan—he just… died? Or maybe Duncan’s referring to 19th-century Mr. Big’s death (since Pelotons didn’t exist back then). Men were too busy going to war, after all. That would explain why 19th-century Carrie is so haunted. So, what happens next?

—

This version keeps the original meaning while making the text smoother and more conversational. Let me know if you’d like any further refinements!In episode ten, Duncan voices the question we’re all wondering:

Duncan: “What’s going to happen to the woman? Do you know the ending yet?”
Carrie: “Well, she’ll die of loneliness, of course.”
Duncan: “Can I make one last suggestion? She lives. She’s such a unique character—it would be a shame to kill her off.”
Carrie: “I’ll think about it.”

“The woman sat in her garden. Though summer had come and gone, she could still feel its lingering warmth on her face and body. How wonderful. How wonderful. How wonderful.”

The seasonal metaphor carries on—but at least, for now, the woman hasn’t died of loneliness.

So that’s where Carrie’s romantic period drama stands. Will it become her eighth bestseller? Only time—and two more episodes—will tell. But I’ll take a guess and say: yes, most likely.