Havoc and Happiness!

Ace Week

As some of you may already know, this week is Ace Week, an annual tradition highlighting identities in the asexual and aromantic communities, which are part of the LGBTQ2S+ spectrum. It’s an important week for me, because although I am allosexual, I identify as nebularomantic, a neurodivergent aromantic identity. What it means is that I can’t (and don’t) emotionally differentiate between types of love like alloromantic neurotypical people do. For me, platonic and romantic love feel exactly the same.

The nebularomantic flag.

I only began to understand this about myself in 2019. As I began to unpack what that meant for me, while also navigating the unraveling of a close friendship and an abusive partnership, so many things in my life began to make more sense to me. Complicated relationships that I had had from the time I was a child, and often their breakdowns, became so much more simple to parse and understand when I was able to piece together this part of myself. Although I had identified with various other identities in the LGBTQ2S+ community for a long time, I could suddenly identify that my lack of understanding about my nebularomantic identity is the one that has caused me the most pain. My coming into the Ace community was laced with heartbreak, as much as relief. I have come to learn that for so many Ace people, this is often the case.

My wish for Ace Week is that people who do not share identities with the people in the Ace community, especially other queer people, will take the time to learn about what Ace identities are and what they mean to us. Our relationships can look very non-normative, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t fulfilling and precious and rich with meaning.

…and what better way to learn about identities different from your own than through books?! There are a few places to find these books, since they can be a bit tricky to pin down. First, you can check out the Aromantic and Asexual Characters in Fiction Database, always linked on our resources page. Second, check out this new list of books with asexual main characters, assembled by Fadwa, the rad Moroccan book blogger behind Word Wonders. And last but not least, a specific recommendation: Unburied Fables. This independently published short story collection features works by over a dozen a-spec authors, including my friend Rose Sinclair, founder of F*ck Yeah Asexuals, who popularized the term “allosexual”. 50% of all the book’s proceeds are donated to the Trevor Project.

The cover of Unburied Fables.

CeCe Reviews WHITE IVY

As always, I am honoured to welcome back author, friend, and fellow literary agent, Cecilia Lyra, to this space! CeCe is a Brazilian reader and a fierce, brilliant feminist living in Canada, and this week I’m so glad to share her review of White Ivy by Susie Yang. White Ivy will be released on November 3rd, and is available to pre-order now!

The cover of White Ivy.

What makes a reader fall in love with a novel?

White Ivy by Susie Yang is the story of Ivy Lin, “a thief and a liar—but you’d never know it by looking at her.” (That’s one-line gold right there. It’s what made me want to read this book.) The eldest in her immigrant family, Ivy grew up on the wrong side of town. She learned how to steal (and otherwise take advantage of situations) from her scrappy grandmother. She also learned how to covet, to aspire. And her main ambition? A life entirely different from her own.

It is no surprise then that Ivy sets her sights on Gideon Speyer, the golden boy of an old-moneyed family. Except, as a teen, Ivy doesn’t stand a chance of dating Gideon. Years later, however, Ivy—now a kindergarten teacher—runs into Gideon’s sister, a chance encounter that, as a little luck and a lot of manipulation would have it, evolves into Ivy becoming Gideon’s girlfriend. For a moment, it appears that Ivy has made it. She’s left her life—her pathetic, embarrassing, poor existence—behind. And then, a figure from her past re-emerges—one who sees the true Ivy, the self she has so deftly managed to hide from everyone else—and threatens her new, golden life. But, in addition to being a thief and a liar, Ivy is a survivor. And what she aims to protect isn’t just her life—it’s her newfound status (which, to Ivy, are one and the same—what’s the point of life otherwise?).

I read this novel compulsively. As a character, Ivy is dark and twisted and haunting, which makes readers consider the parts of themselves that are precisely that. It deals with ambition and deception, all while exploring a woman’s coming-of-age, a love triangle, and the immigrant experience. I was absorbed in Ivy’s journey. Wholly invested in it. I felt everything she was feeling—and Ivy, being a fully fleshed out, unreservedly human character, felt things that were immoral and illogical. I applaud this. I am so done with boring, moralistic characters. I loved that Ivy was flawed and I loved how she was flawed. Yang has written a wonderfully immersive novel.

Which brings me back to my initial question. What does make a reader fall in love with a novel? The simple answer is: a good story. Of course, what make a good story is a whole other matter. In a way, a good story is like magic. It’s the impossible made real. But, much like a magic trick, when we break down the elements that make up a good story, we are able to understand how it came to be. A hypnotizing voice. Lively, engaging pace. Crisp, natural dialogue. A surprising yet inevitable ending—to name a few. Storytelling feels like magic, but it is a craft, and, like any craft, it can be understood logically, even if it is experienced fantastically. In examining WHITE IVY under these lenses, I can very much see what made me fall in love with it. It has all the makings of a good story.

And yet.

Throughout the novel, the reader is prompted to ask themselves, Why is Gideon with Ivy? Indeed, this question is clearly at the back of Ivy’s mind. Like Ivy, we are afraid she will lose him, that she will lose the life she has craved—and fought—for so long. It is a fear that consistently informs her behavior and choices. It is a question we speculate about and, in novels, one counts on receiving answers to questions, particularly at the end. It’s one of the ingredients of what makes a good story: a reveal. And, sure enough, at the end of WHITE IVY, we find out why Gideon is with Ivy. The reveal is delivered. And, sadly, it was disappointing.

I won’t spoil it, but I will say this: it felt device-y. At best, lazy and unimaginative. At worst, offensive. I will also say that I do not fault Yang—at least no more than I fault every author out there (myself included). Whether we want to or not we are a product of the heteronormative, white supremacist patriarchy that rules our world, which means we often fall prey to its pervasive teachings. Even the most progressive, enlightened human has been brainwashed by the system and, sometimes, these prejudices unconsciously make their way into our stories. I do not know Susie Yang, but I believe it’s possible—likely, actually—that she did not notice the problematic plot reveal at the end of her novel and that, if she had, she would’ve addressed it in a responsible manner. I know I’ve seen problematic aspects in my own writing and hope to continue to see them, as that will mean I continue to grow. My criticism is not without compassion. In fact, it is imbued with it.

What makes a reader fall in love with a novel? A good story.

And I’m very much looking forward to Susie Yang’s next novel.

Feature: HAVOC AND HAPPINESS

Cover of Havoc and Happiness

I am super thrilled to get to feature Canadian LGBTQ2S+ author Wren Handman’s newest YA light fantasy title Havoc and Happiness on the blog today, on the day of its release! Happy book birthday!!! We decided to have a little fun with this post, but all you really need to know is this: Queer. Monster. Hunter.

…or, that’s all I needed, anyway. This book follows undead MC Michaela Peters, as she navigates a new school, new powers, and horrible monsters that shift depending on what people’s imaginations have the capacity to conjure.

The cover of a book of Mad Libs, called Goofy Mad Libs: World’s Greatest Word Game.

Now. Do you all remember Mad Libs? Well, we thought it might be fun to create a mad lib of an action scene from Havoc and Happiness to give to a couple of our contributors, to give BBB’s readers a silly preview of this rad new book. Thank you so much to Jack and Eddie (from reddietoread) for humouring Wren and I in this project intended to bring a little light during a weird, weird time. The scenes are below! In the meantime, I asked Wren to recommend a book by a Black author for this post, and she wanted to shout out one that’s on her TBR: The Weight of the Stars, by K. Ancrum, which is a rad YA lesbian sci-fi romance that was released by Imprint in 2019.

The cover of The Weight of the Stars.

Mad Lib: Version One

The two of them face off with a sort of ‘you wouldn’t dare’ look. Cade takes a long, deliberate swallow of his coke. Devin starts to relax, but then Cade goes on the attack.

“I guess you wouldn’t have heard,” Cade tells me, not breaking eye contact with Devin. “But Devin asked the apple last year so he would get a telephone.”

“Cade has a tattoo of bookcase!”

“Devin owns sixteen fish!”

“Cade had to eat  people to come to his birthday.”

“Devin joked Mr. Stephens to turn his basketball!” to a house!”!”

“Cade—”

“I need to run!” I holler into the stream of abuse, and hurl myself up from the book. I don’t look back, but I picture the two of them not even slowing down as they continue to fight.

I linger in the bathroom, putting on lipstick, fixing my hair, anything to avoid going back outside. I’m running out of things to do to my face when I hear a tall crash from the dining area. I rush back into the main room to find Cade and Devin both looking long and helping our waitress clean up some broken dishes.

“What happened?” I ask, picking up the handle of a broken mug and heaping it on top of the tray.

“They got into a fight about who was paying the bill,” the waitress, whose nametag reads “Kelly,” explains.

“I am so green,” I tell her, handing over the plate. “I don’t know what on Earth got into them. They’re acting like cakes.”

“Oh, honey. Teenaged boys and their fishes,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You just be careful—I’m sure it seems all cold, them fighting over you, but it can go bad fast.”

“Trust me, I don’t think it’s slimy,” I moan. “What’s a foot called when there’s only one girl?”

“A disaster?” she teases, and pushes me back towards my water. I drag my feet crossing back through the restaurant. I can’t believe what I’ve gotten myself into.

Mad Lib: Version Two

The two of them face off with a sort of ‘you wouldn’t dare’ look. Cade takes a long, deliberate swallow of his coke. Devin starts to relax, but then Cade goes on the attack.

“I guess you wouldn’t have heard,” Cade tells me, not breaking eye contact with Devin. “But Devin spat the frying pan last year so he would get a statuette.”

“Cade has a tattoo of foil!”

“Devin owns sixteen washing machines!”

“Cade had to slice  people to come to his surprise party.”

“Devin won Mr. Stephens to turn his armoire!” to a germ!”!”

“Cade—”

“I need to utilize!” I holler into the stream of abuse, and hurl myself up from the skyscraper. I don’t look back, but I picture the two of them not even slowing down as they continue to fight.

I linger in the bathroom, putting on lipstick, fixing my hair, anything to avoid going back outside. I’m running out of things to do to my face when I hear a squeamish crash from the dining area. I rush back into the main room to find Cade and Devin both looking unbelievable and helping our waitress clean up some broken dishes.

“What happened?” I ask, picking up the handle of a broken mug and heaping it on top of the tray.

“They got into a fight about who was paying the bill,” the waitress, whose nametag reads “Kelly,” explains.

“I am so calm,” I tell her, handing over the plate. “I don’t know what on Earth got into them. They’re acting like stuffed animals.”

“Oh, honey. Teenaged boys and their oceans,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You just be careful—I’m sure it seems all bright, them fighting over you, but it can go bad fast.”

“Trust me, I don’t think it’s ridiculous,” I moan. “What’s a potato called when there’s only one girl?”

“A disaster?” she teases, and pushes me back towards my lamp. I drag my feet crossing back through the restaurant. I can’t believe what I’ve gotten myself into.

PS, if you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving me a tip! It only takes a minute, and it allows me to keep creating content just like this, buying food for my pets, and pursuing my career as a literary agent!

All Eyes on Her

I could not be more excited for today’s post. I am super thrilled to welcome back BBB contributor Jack for another incredible review. This time, Jack writes about a forthcoming LGBTQ2S+ novel, Seven, by Farzana Doctor, an author of colour in my local, Toronto. Then, I am deeply honoured to be hosting a post by another Ontario author, Laurie Elizabeth Flynn, whose new YA thriller, All Eyes On Her, comes out later this month. She addresses a super challenging topic in writing, and one that she proves herself to be a master of in her upcoming title that I couldn’t put down: multiple POV.

Before we jump in, I just want to put in a quick plug for an upcoming LGBTQ2S+ contemporary indie press book by my client, author CM Harris. Maiden Leap releases on September 1st, and you can read more about it here!

In addition, as a follow up to last week’s post on chapter books, huge congratulations to Theanne Griffith, Reggie Brown, and their whole team – there are more Magnificent Makers books on the way!

Jack’s Review of Seven, by Farzana Doctor

I have such a fondness for Farzana’s work, which I discovered years ago through our mutual connection to the social work profession. I was super glad when Jack chose this book to check out. Seven comes out later this year, and is available for pre-order now.

Farzana Doctor’s novel Seven is the kind of novel that, like the scent of baked bread wafting over from a bakery, lures you in. In her fourth novel, Seven, Doctor explores themes of personhood, motherhood, and the concept of individuality in a collective community. The novel borrows from Farzana’s Indian ancestry, specifically her Dawoodi Bohra community and carefully braids truth and fiction into a family’s intergenerational story. What begins as an insight into a familial tree takes Sharifa through past and present becoming a story of chosen family and the fortitude of relationships.

Seven, is a layered concoction which reveals itself to its reader in pieces. In the novel, Doctor questions how people define “harm”, challenging the notion of harm and family as mutually exclusive. Doctor represents social justice on the public scale we are familiar with, and through the individual experience which personalizes pain.

Photo by Jill Dimond on Unsplash

CW for this book include sexual violence and gas-lighting. I found enlightenment in the presence of both sexual violence and strategies of healing. I recommend this book to readers in their young adulthood. It is also an insight into the different types of activism and stands one can take.

Farzana Doctor is a Canadian author, activist, and psychotherapist. She is a careful writer whose embroidery of Intergenerational trauma, the politicization of women’s bodies and the human experience, is both brilliant and alluring. What happens when trauma is weaponized as a vehicle of obedience and victims become perpetrators? How can multiple truths co-exist?

During this year’s Festival of Literary Diversity (FOLD), I had the pleasure of attending the virtual What We found discussion, where she posed thoughtful questions about identity, about writing. The thoughtfulness is evident once again in the configuration of Seven, a novel full of questioning.

The novel begins with Sharifa, a woman who feels broken. Sharifa and her family decide to go to India, where Murtuza (her husband) will be working and Sharifa will be on sabbatical. Sharifa plans on researching her family, specifically Abdoolally’s role as the family’s patriarch, while homeschooling her daughter.  Her daughter, Zee becomes a focal point, reminding Sharifa of herself as a child when she would travel back to India. During her research, Sharifa begins to identify the ways in which people can inflict harm their loved ones. Even though this is a work of fiction, the character of Abdoolally was inspired by Hussonally Dholkawala, Doctor’s great-great grandfather, and the character are based on the very real Dawoodi Bohras’ community.

Photo by Yaopey Yong on Unsplash

In many ways, the novel is an account of the experiences of a cultural transplant with sexual violence, generational trauma and belonging. By showing the varying ways in which trauma shows up for the same experience, Doctor explores the complicated nature of trauma.

In Seven, the reader is given pieces of a puzzle and asked: “what happens if we believe in the wrong thing, the wrong people?” What does healing look like?

Laurie Elizabeth Flynn, Author of ALL EYES ON HER

I met Laurie through this blog, when I first wrote about one of her titles, Last Girl Lied To, which I read during the #VillainAThon last year. I could not put this book down. Since then, I’ve learned that Laurie herself is as much of a delight as her books are, as she’s peppered me with recommendations for other un-put-down-able titles over the last several months. I think that I can safely say that we share a passion for messy teenaged femme characters, and I have never been disappointed by a book that she’s suggested for me.

I am honoured to have met Laurie, and to have received an ARC of her forthcoming YA novel, All Eyes On Her to screen read for my bookshop. It was the first book I read in 2020, while I was going through a very difficult time in my life, and it was immersive and escapist and everything I’d hoped. The ending drove me bananas in the best possible way. The last chapter was absolutely delicious, and kept me guessing through the very last page. All Eyes On Her comes out on August 18th, and is available for pre-order now.

More recently, Laurie has achieved incredible success, and as a reader I could not be happier, and as one of her supporters, I am deeply proud. Her adult debut was recently acquired by Simon and Schuster, and optioned for television by AMC. I can’t wait to read this book, and I hope desperately that we’ll all get to watch it come to live as a super bingeable series.

For this post, I am so grateful that Laurie addressed multi-POV writing. As I wrote at the top of this post, she executes it perfectly in All Eyes On Her, and it’s something that takes so much technique, precision, and dedication to master. Thank you so much for this, Laurie, and congratulations for all that is to come!

As is tradition, I asked Laurie to recommend some books by Black authors that readers of this blog should check out alongside All Eyes On Her. Her choices were Some Other Now by Sarah Everett, which releases in early 2021. She also loved Allegedly, by Tiffany D. Jackson, and You Don’t Know Me But I Know You by Rebecca Barrow. 

Voices in a Crowd: Writing Multiple POV

When I started writing All Eyes On Her, I didn’t have a plot or an outline—just a vaguely drawn idea about a boy and a girl who went into the woods, and only the girl came back. The first voice that came to me was the main character Tabitha’s best friend, Elle, and the next thing I knew, Tabby’s sworn enemy needed a say too. Before I knew it, several other characters had emerged from my imagination, all of them with one thing in common: They knew, or had known, Tabitha Cousins, and thus felt qualified to weigh in on her guilt or innocence. To act as a sort of jury, convincing the reader of her true nature.

I drafted the novel in a fast and furious blur. By the time I finished, there were five main point of view characters, each with a different relationship to Tabby and her deceased boyfriend Mark, as well as several peripheral characters with their own chapters. To complicate matters, the story also involved news articles, blog posts, texts, diary entries, and police transcripts. 

I give huge credit to my editors for not balking at the idea of a novel with so many different POV characters and formats. They were fully on board and excited about the concept from the start. I knew the challenges I was facing—to successfully execute the style I wanted the novel to take, each voice had to sound unique, and each character had to provide different information that informed the narrative and moved the plot along. It was in editing and revising that I really learned what worked and what didn’t, and I came up with these tips for anyone else working on (or wanting to start) a multiple POV novel!

Know Your Characters

You need to know your characters no matter how many POV characters you have, or how the story is told. But it’s especially important when you have a cast of characters whose voices each need to sound distinct. Each time I entered a new perspective, I settled into that character’s head, and that informed the voice. I often asked myself, is this something she would say? Is this a reaction she would have? I also challenged myself to memorize each person’s motivations—why he feels this way, and why he thinks the reader needs to be made aware. I aimed to know instinctively how each character would react to a situation, even if it was a situation that wasn’t happening on the page. 

The Why

Ask yourself why a certain character’s POV needs to be included. What does it bring to the story? What information or insight does this person provide that another one can’t? A few side characters with POV chapters in the first draft of All Eyes On Her were cut in revisions, because as fun as they were to write, they weren’t adding any new or crucial information to the narrative.

Try Different Formats

While most of my POV characters have first-person present-tense chapters, I wrote one entirely using a police transcript format. At the time, I wasn’t sure why his story needed to be told this way, but looking back, I can see the reason. I didn’t necessarily want the reader in his head as much as directly outside of it. I wanted to showcase his personality through dialogue and intentionally keep certain thoughts off-limits. Which brings me to the next point…

Hide and Seek

Just because you have multiple characters doesn’t mean you need to give readers their every thought. In fact, it’s more effective when you don’t (especially if you’re writing a thriller where everybody may be a suspect…). Think as much about what you choose not to share as what you do. Give your readers tantalizing little gaps to fill in. Consider why a character may not be saying something, and what that tells readers about him or her. The only thing I love more than an unreliable narrator… unreliable narrators.

The only thing I love more than an unreliable narrator… unreliable narrators.

Show, Don’t Tell

This is solid advice for writing in general, but I find it especially helpful for navigating a multi-POV book. If readers are simply told every thought in a character’s mind, they’ll get bored easily, and you run the risk of one character blending into the next. Show how the character interacts with others. How she walks and talks. What her hobbies are. How she acts at parties. How she behaves around friends versus parents. What her secrets are, and how she conceals them…

Streamline Information

Something to avoid with a large cast of POV characters is each section feeling like an info-dump, or a repetition of information another character already shared. Ideally, you want each character’s next chapter to piggyback off the one before it, ramping up to the climax of the novel. The order needs to be determined by underlying tension, and what comes next to ratchet up that tension. Every author has a different strategy, and there’s no wrong way. Some write all of one character’s chapters before moving into the head of another, and some write mostly in chronological order. For this book, I head-hopped and wrote mostly in order, which I think helped with the pacing, and ensured that every new event built on the one before it to create momentum.

Motivation is Key

Since character arcs are so important, this is a challenge when you have several characters whose stories need to feel compelling on their own, as well as part of a whole. Make sure you always know what each character wants, and what’s standing in the way of them getting it. I also like to keep in mind what each character is hiding, or what they don’t want people to find out. Having character arcs overlap and inform each other is like putting together a (sometimes frustrating, sometimes extremely satisfying) puzzle.

Differentiate Speech and Mannerisms

A trick I employed as I edited All Eyes On Her: If I picked up the manuscript and flipped to a random chapter, would I know whose head I was in within a couple sentences? If the answer was no, I looked at why. Had I fallen into similar phrasing? Made everyone constantly push their hair back behind their ears? Did the dialogue feel familiar? Voice is everything in a book with several of them, so having consistent go-to mannerisms or expressions that feel familiar to a character helps them stand out.

I hope these tips are helpful to anyone writing multiple POV! All in all, try to think of it for what it is… a very fun experience, and a challenge that will improve your writing. If you’re someone who gets bored easily (hi, me) or something doesn’t feel right in your book from just one POV, it might be worth figuring out whose voice to potentially add to the story. Listen to what that character has to say—because it may be quite telling.

PS, if you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving me a tip! It only takes a minute, and it allows me to keep creating content just like this, buying food for my pets, and pursuing my career as a literary agent!

Veronica Mars, But Make It Queer

After taking the longest hiatus from posting that I have taken since I started this blog, coming back feels a little bit like coming home. I love my life as a literary agent, and in these quarantimes I am missing my life as a bookseller, but first and foremost, I’m always a bookworm at heart. I decided to take a step back from posting to make space for Black and BIPOC voices making essential statements during a very difficult political time both for publishing and for all of us who are touched and affected by COVID-19. I don’t want anyone to stop listening to those voices, but I also don’t want to stop making space for LGBTQ2S+ voices in this little space of mine. With that in mind, I would like to extend an ongoing invitation to Black and BIPOC writers who would find it advantageous – reach out to me. This space is yours to use if it’s useful to you. I would always be more than willing to use this platform to host and boost your words and voices if I can.

With that in mind, I have two books that I have personal connections to that I want to mention this week, and I am also all kinds of honoured to be hosting Kylie Schachte, author of You’re Next this week. But first, I want to plug a few of my favourite books by Black authors, for those of you who may not know them yet.

If you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you will know that two of my favourite books of all time are Freshwater, by Akewaeke Emezi, and Hurricane Child, by Kacen Callender – both non-binary authors. Freshwater is an adult literary novel that is like no other book I’ve read before. It’s powerful and otherworldly, at times baffling and at others too relatable. It delves into themes like identity, sexuality, and trauma, and it is a difficult but breathtaking book. Hurricane Child, on the other hand, is an accessible middle grade ghost story about a young, Black, queer girl navigating her first crush. It’s poetic and spooky in all the best ways, and I would recommend it to readers of any age. While I’m at it, I’m going to put in a quick plug for books by a dear friend – Emmy Jackson is a Black author of post-apoc fiction, and their book is literally next on my TBR. We’re working on a top secret project together right now, and they’re one of my favourite people. Check out their books here.

If you’re seeking something more contemporary, I would recommend Such a Fun Age, by Kiley Reid, which deserves to be the next TV series à la Little Fires Everywhere. I feel like every millennial has known the characters in this book in their own lives, for better or worse, and the ending is deeply satisfying. Helen Oyeyemi is an author who never ceases to amaze me. Gingerbread is my favourite novel of hers, and it’s a twisting, winding, family epic turned fairytale that is all about a sticky, spicy, maybe deadly (??) snack. In non-fiction, I’d check out Haben Girma’s memoir – a book that I don’t think got enough buzz early on, and comes out in paperback later this summer. Haben tells her story of being a deafblind Black woman, and I think it’s essential reading – especially for anyone who can only name one deafblind person in history (Helen Keller).

As for books by Black authors that I have on my TBR that are coming out later this year, there are so many… Raybearer, by Jordan Ifueko, is a YA fantasy about having the strength to find your own path. I love innovative true crime memoir, and Natasha Trethewey’s book Memorial Drive that examines the murder of her mother looks fantastic. I’m SO HYPED for Alyssa Cole’s new thriller, When No One is Watching – look out for a review somewhere in the near future, because I snagged an ARC! And in my FAVOURITE genre, YA thriller, Tiffany Jackson will drop Grown later in 2020.

…I’ll stop there for now, but thanks to inspiration from Kylie, I’ve asked everyone who I’m featuring in the blog today to recommend a book by a Black author, so this post is packed with suggestions from some incredible authors in their own right.

New Books to Check Out

While the blog was on hiatus, my agenting partner in crime celebrated her book birthday, for her debut novel The Sunset Sisters! Congratulations, CeCe! I couldn’t be prouder of you. This book is the perfect summer read, and is a great commercial fiction recommendation written by a badass feminist author. Cecilia is a Brazilian woman living in Canada, and I am absolutely honoured to call her my friend.

I asked Cecilia what book by a Black author she’d like to recommend alongside The Sunset Sisters, and she chose her favourite of this year so far – The Vanishing Half, by Brit Bennett.

Next, I want to give a quick shoutout to A. J. Vrana, one of my #SpineSquad authors, who is celebrating HER book birthday for her debut novel on July 28th. This dark fantasy is based on her South Slavic heritage, and it gave me nightmares. I’ll cop to it! The book that she wants to recommend alongside The Hollow Gods is How Long ’til Black Future Month, by N. K. Jemisin.

We also celebrated the sale of her audio rights to Tantor this past week, so there will be an awesome audiobook forthcoming! Congrats!!

You’re Next, by Kylie Schachte

When I picked up You’re Next earlier this year, I was absolutely gobsmacked. I read it because I had an ARC, and it was an easy go-to… as you all know, murder is my comfort read. What I actually got was a super queer, relatable, emotional story that blew me away. It reminded me of Veronica Mars, but super queer. Book of my HEART. I immediately reached out to Kylie, who is an absolute fucking gem, to tell her what a punchy rollercoaster her book had been for me. I’m thrilled that Kylie was up for writing a post for this space, and even more excited because what she wrote feels like it was pulled straight out of my heart. Thank you so much, Kylie, it’s an honour.

The cover of You’re Next, out July 7th.

You can pre-order You’re Next now, and while you’re at it, Kyle recommended two books by Black authors who share her book birthday: Cinderella is Dead, by Kalynn Bayron, and The Voting Booth, by Brandy Colbert. Here’s your summer challenge from me: order all three. You won’t regret a thing.

Re-Imagining Escapism for a World on Fire: Kyle Schachte

Emmy and I first planned the topic for this post back in March, but I am writing it in June. A month defined by uprisings in the wake of the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Tony McDade, Ahmaud Arbery, Riah Milton, Dominique Fells, and more–more lives, more Black people brutally killed, so many that even as I say those names there are many more I’m leaving out. More may be murdered between the moment I write this sentence and the day it is posted. And that’s to say nothing of the fact that the pandemic disproportionally kills Black and brown people, for deliberate, systemic reasons. 

This post is not about how I, as a white woman, feel about those murders, or the general state of racial injustice–the world emphatically does not need that. But to not mention this context would be to entirely miss the point of what I’m about to say. 

My book, YOU’RE NEXT, is the story of Flora Calhoun–a sixteen-year-old girl obsessed with solving the murder of her ex-girlfriend, Ava McQueen. I first started writing the book because I wanted to write something “fun.” I had this idea about a girl detective–a girl who would toss off one-liners like a hardboiled PI from the 40s…right before she went to math class. It would be campy, and sarcastic, and full of things like fight scenes and explosions. People might bring it to the beach, or stay up all night finishing it. 

But from the moment I began writing, I ran into some difficult questions. At the core of any murder mystery is, well, murder. So how do I write a “fun” book, when at the heart of it is a queer Black girl, brutally killed? And any murder mystery must grapple, in some kind of way, with justice–what it means and how it should be served. So how do I write a “fun” book about that, when our own justice system is so broken?

There are phenomenal YA books that tackle topics like these head-on, such as The Hate U Give, or the forthcoming This is My America. These are gorgeous, wrenching books that are desperately needed in YA. But this conversation should not be limited to “issue” books, and it shouldn’t solely be the responsibility of Black and POC creators. Too often, the media we think of as being “commercial” or “fun” (specifically the stuff made by white people) side steps these questions altogether. Those stories take place in some kind of parallel universe, where race, class, gender and the like simply do not exist. 

There are a lot of reasons for this, but one of them is that same question I was asking myself: how do you write something that’s both fun and acknowledges the sad, infuriating realities of the world? Doesn’t that, kind of by definition, make things less fun? 

Well…yeah, in some ways. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that teenagers getting killed is fun. But we should also ask: fun for whom? That fictional parallel reality, absent any acknowledgement of inequality…it was constructed for the comfort of white people. An excuse for us to continue to ignore what we are already ignoring in the real world. Escapism from the issues that barely touch us, and yet make us uncomfortable. A world in which our privilege goes unacknowledged and unchecked. 

When creators respond to these critiques, the answer is often, “It’s not supposed to be that serious,” or, “I don’t want people to have to think that hard.” Mind you, these are often the same people who have developed wholeass magic systems they expect readers to follow, but acknowledging that race…exists…is asking people to think too hard. And that response actually makes a lot of assumptions about readers, and what they will find enjoyable. It assumes a definition of “pleasure” that is, like so many things, oriented around a straight, white, cis-gendered, able-bodied, male gaze. 

Photo by James Eades on Unsplash

But that kind of pleasure can ruin a story for others. I often give up on shows or books because the oversights are so glaring. Is this a world in which no people of color exist? No queer people? Women do not make up 50% of the population? When I consume those kinds of stories, there is no escape. My brain works double time to pick out every issue, every whitewashing, every dogwhistle. 

And anyway, it’s a false choice! We already know for a fact that it is possible to write books that can be both fun and acknowledge systemic injustice…because marginalized writers have been creating those stories for ages. Check out A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney, You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson, or the upcoming Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas–all joyful and escapist, and yet imbued with the lived experience of marginalization. And we should absolutely be handing the mic to #OwnVoices authors at every opportunity, but that does not absolve us from needing to do better in our own work as well. 

I’ve been thinking about these questions since I started writing YOU’RE NEXT in 2014, but my thoughts started to coalesce a few months ago, when I watched the movie Knives Out. For those who haven’t seen it, the movie is an extremely campy, whimsical romp in the vein of Clue, or The Westing Game. An eccentric millionaire is murdered in a locked room, and a brilliant, ostentatious private investigator is brought in to figure out whodunit. But underneath those fun trappings, the movie is also a pointed rebuke of white privilege. The millionaire in question left his entire fortune to his nurse, Marta–a young Latinx woman whose mother is undocumented–cutting his family out of the will altogether. At first, the white family members treat Marta with saccharine affection (while loudly debating in her presence whether “illegals” should be deported), but when the money gets involved, they turn on her. They threaten her and weaponize her mother’s immigration status–even the “nice,” “liberal” side of the family. 

Now, is Knives Out a nuanced, in-depth portrayal of our broken immigration system, or the ways white people benefit from systemic racism? No. It is zany and bonkers, and exactly what you would want from a movie like that. But it provides just enough context to feel like it lives in our real world, or at least was created by people who are aware not only that these problems exist, but that they shape every story we tell–whether we acknowledge them or not. 

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

“Escapism” shouldn’t mean ignoring hard or painful things completely. Instead, when we acknowledge those issues, we find new narrative possibilities–we can create “escapist” fiction that is in dialogue with the things we are trying to escape. Knives Out is pleasurable–and commercially successful!–not because it pretends that racism and xenophobia don’t exist, but because Marta triumphs over it through her own cleverness and good heart. 

The joy I tried to create in YOU’RE NEXT is a little different. Yes, there’s the fun, high octane stuff–car chases, fight clubs, Noir tropes with a high school twist. But unlike Knives Out, the triumph over injustice at the end isn’t so clean & tidy. In many ways, I think the true pleasure of the book comes not from joy, but from pure, unadulterated rage. 

It is fury that propels Flora, the main character, to act. Anger that fuels her obsession with solving Ava’s murder. She lives in the same world we do, where kids are killed all the time, and the entire system is built to protect the wealthy & privileged. And she’s pissed as hell about it. She would love nothing more than to scream “fuck you” in the face of everyone who doesn’t care, or who looks away…and she kind of does exactly that. 

And the satisfaction of that rage can be its own kind of pleasure, or escape. As I have better educated myself about the injustice of the world around me, I have often been sad…but more often I have been livid. Furious with the world for being such a dark and violent place, furious with other people for not doing anything about it, and furious with myself for not knowing better sooner. And while there is plenty we can do in real life to work towards a better world, my hope is that there is something deeply, primally satisfying about watching a teenage girl–someone whom society has deemed weak, vulnerable, without agency–burn the whole fucking thing to the ground. 

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

I strove to write a book that is “fun,” but still inhabits a world in which race, class, and injustice actually exist. As an obscenely privileged white woman, I have certainly gotten things wrong, and have much work still to do. But I could not write a book in which a queer, Black teenage girl dies and pretend that her race and sexuality have nothing to do with her death, or the failures of the investigation. I could not write a book in which teenagers participate in an illegal fight club for money, and not acknowledge the class divisions that drove them to such violence. Acknowledging these problems is not a chore, or an obligation. It creates opportunities for newer, more original stories to be told–and, most importantly, to connect with more readers. Because we already have plenty of books that look the other way, and people are hungry for something else.

PS, if you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving me a tip! It only takes a minute, and it allows me to keep creating content just like this, buying food for my pets, and pursuing my career as a literary agent!

#VillainAThon Wrap Up

Currently Reading: Unfuck Your Boundaries, by Faith Harper

Welcome to the Relaunch of Books Beyond Binaries!

A green book that says "Books Beyond Binaries". There is an actual bone spine on the book spine with a skull at the top. Creepy stuff oozes out of the pages, and there is a purple background.

Since I started this blog last year, it has been my plan to commission a non-binary artist to create an aesthetic for this project that would be unique, and capture my personality and my interests, so that when people come to this site, it feels like something special. I was so lucky to get a chance to work with Ice, aka Bill Underwood, who created the incredible artwork that is now featured on this blog.

I love spooky books, and while I always want this blog to focus on LGBTQ2S+ literature, with a keen eye to trans and/or non-binary authors and books, I always want the blog to reflect me as its creator. I will always have a special place in my heart for spooky spec fic and feminist thrillers, and I believe that these books are often queer and move beyond binaries in their own ways. I grew up on fantasy novels and 90’s kidlit horror like Bunnicula and Goosebumps. Currently, YA and adult dark fantasy, paranormal horror, dystopian, post-apoc, magical realism, mystery, paranoid fiction, true crime, memoir, and thrillers make up a large portion of what I like to read. I am so excited to have this blog reflect these interests, and feel more like my space, thanks to the incredible art that Ice has produced for it.

To celebrate, and spread the word about my blog, I’ve decided to host a giveaway on my Twitter! If you help Books Beyond Binaries by spreading the word about the relaunch, you can get your hands on some awesome stickers of some of the art that Ice has created for this page. Keep your eyes on this space, because winners will be notified just in time for Halloween!

Also, if you’re as into Spooky Season as I am, @genderqueerwolf created a partially crowdsourced Halloween playlist, and honestly, I couldn’t make a better mood list for this site if I tried.

News: Transphobia Locally and in Publishing, and New Trans Research

Transphobic Hate Speech at TPL

The Toronto Public Library is one of the biggest and most well-used library systems in the world. It is a cornerstone of the Canadian literary community, and a community institution of which I am generally incredibly proud and fond of. However, the TPL recently chose to uphold a room reservation for a sold-out event that will give a platform to transphobic hate speech, by well-known trans-exclusive radical feminist Megan Murphy.

I am incredibly grateful to the folks who have spoken up in our community. First and foremost, trans folks in the literary community, including Indigenous poet Gwen Benaway, who has done some community organizing around this issue. In addition, the Toronto Public Library Workers, who create the safe spaces that myself and others inhabit when they visit the libraries, other author allies, Toronto Pride, Another Story Bookshop (the indie where I work), and even the Conservative city mayor, John Tory.

The event will go ahead tomorrow evening, and I encourage anyone in Toronto to attend the protest at the library where the event will be hosted.

New St. Martin’s Press Book

A book listing on Edelweiss+ for Savage Messiah: How Dr. Jordan Peterson is Saving Western Civilization.

Unfortunately, transphobia is also alive and well in publishing at large, and I was extremely disappointed to find a book entitled Savage Messiah, by Jim Proser. Proser has written two books for St. Martin’s Press previously, both biographies of conservative, American white male military personnel. His next book profiles transphobic Toronto-based psychologist Jordan Peterson (click for some background info). It is a huge disappointment to see St. Martin’s support this project, and if you would like to tell them about how this affects you or your community, they can be contacted at publicity@stmartins.com.

New Trans Research

I am part of a Facebook group for trans PhD students. This new academic article, entitled Tumblr Was a Trans Technology, was posted there this week. The authors met in the Facebook group, and co-authored this rad paper together. It’s open access, so be sure to check it out.

A Personal Note

I found out this week that my legal name change has been finalized! …that’s the tweet. I’m super excited.

A name change certificate from the province of Ontario.

#VillainAThon Wrap Up!

I am participating in my first ever readathon right now, the #VillainAThon! I need to say, for various life reasons, I am rocking this thing (even if it means that I’m struggling in some other areas!). You can read an update from the host blogger participants here, and I’ve decided to write mini-reviews for all the books that I’ve read over the past two months below.

Ky, aka @genderqueerwolf, visits Victoria Schwab, one of the inspirations for the Villain-a-Thon, at a public appearance at the Tattered Cover in Denver, CO.

I have read 15 books that qualify for this readathon, and I am super proud of myself! Since I love spooky books, especially around Halloween season, this Villain-themed readathon is right in my wheelhouse. The mini-reviews are posted in (mostly) chronological order below.

The covers of The Archived and The Unbound, which depict a key and ring respectively, with smoke coming out of the bottom of them, and a feminine face visible in the smoke.

The Archived and The Unbound, by Victoria Schwab

I had never read any of Schwab’s books before this challenge, and my experiences with them were mixed. One of the requirements was to read any of her books, so I went to my library and put holds on a bunch of them at the beginning of the month. I started with The Archived because it was the first one to be available. This book is set in a world where the souls of the dead are stored in an archived, and a girl who is charged with returning the dead to their places in the stacks when they escape. I liked it so much that I wound up reading its sequel as well, and just found out that it’s been optioned. It was a compelling duology with a unique premise, and I enjoyed reading both.

The Naturals, by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

I’m a bit type A, so I decided to get all the required reads for the challenge out of the way first. Schwab was the first that I completed, and then I had to choose a book off of the list provided by the host. The list was great, but included a bunch of books that I’d already read or DNF’d (The Devouring Gray, We Hunt the Flame, Sawkill Girls), which made it challenging to choose what I’d check out next! I landed on The Naturals, the first in a series about a group of teenagers with talents that lead them to be scouted by the FBI for a special training program. This book is tropey and unrealistic and fast-paced and everything I wanted it to be. If you’re looking for a good read for a night in the bath or plane ride, I would definitely recommend this series.

Salt, by Hannah Moskowitz

I immediately added Salt to my best books of the year when I finished it. It’s a story about a group of sea monster hunting siblings out to find their missing parents, and try not to get outwitted by pirates on the way. Romance isn’t the main plotline, and I loved every character in this book. It was haunting, and the world-building was detailed, but easy to digest. I loved it.

I Know You Remember, by Jennifer Donaldson

I can’t even say very much about this book, except that it has one of the best HOW DARE YOU moments of any YA thriller that I’ve read. It’s set in Alaska, where the author is from, and depicts a setting that is not often seen in mainstream literature. Coming from Newfoundland myself, it was highly relatable. Put this on your TBR – you won’t regret it.

Her Body and Other Parties, by Carmen Maria Machado.

Machado’s debut collection of short feminist horror stories got so much buzz in my circles, so although I am struggling with shorter forms lately, I decided to finally pick it off my shelf for this challenge. After reading an ARC of Machado’s memoir in September, though, I have to say that I had mixed feelings about this first book. Some of the stories were fantastic and chilling, but others, I didn’t wind up finishing. Although I would recommend Machado’s writing without hesitation to a horror fan, I would say that Her Body and Other Parties was more of a mixed bag for me than anything.

Half-Resurrection Blues, by Daniel José Older

So. I don’t read many books by men. But this one had been recommended to me by folks from my online book community, the Rogue Book Coven, and I decided to give it a chance because of Older’s great reputation. One of the things I loved about this book is that it’s so evident that it’s written by a person of colour in the best possible ways. One of the things I didn’t love about this book is that it’s so evident that it’s written by a man in the worst possible ways. I read it, but the toxic masculinity throughout, particularly obvious in the author’s portrayal of feminine characters, really ruined the experience for me.

Your House Will Pay, by Steph Cha

This book is finally available in stores, and if you don’t have it yet, it’s time to call your local indie and make sure they’re carrying it. This one is a must-read. An LA noir, Your House Will Pay felt like The Hate U Give for grown ups. I couldn’t put it down.

One Night Gone, by Tara Laskowski

This is my kind of beach read. Set in a seaside town in the dead of winter, and featuring a house that might be haunted and a girl who might have been murdered AND a badass roller derby team, this feminist thriller is spooky and winding and drew me in. I’m so glad that the thriller genre is finally producing powerhouse books written by and centred on feminine people. Pick this up when you need a summer chill on the seaside.

A Place Called Perfect, by Helena Duggan

I have not been in the headspace for a lot of middle grade recently, and it had originally been my plan to also read The Trouble With Perfect. That one is still on my TBR, though, because A Place Called Perfect was fantastic. Age-appropriate for middle grade, offbeat, and chilling. Bleeding eyeball plants, yall. True horror writing for the little ones. I would have eaten this up when I was a kid (and I ate it up now! No regrets).

The Hazel Wood, by Melissa Albert

I debated about including this book in my list, because the only requirement for books to be included was that there had to be a villain. Now, in thrillers, mysteries, and a lot of books for younger readers, the “bad guy” was pretty clear – at least by the end of the book. In Salt, there was no real antagonist, but sea monsters? Pretty villainous. In Your House Will Pay, ultimately there were multiple villains, and they were more complex and less straightforward. When I first listened to The Hazel Wood, having recently received an ARC for its forthcoming sequel, I was like, nope, no villain. I changed my mind, however. I think that there are a few candidates in this delicious fairy tale story for the title of villain, and I’d love to know who others think they might be.

The Body in Question, by Jill Ciment

After The Hazel Wood – yall, I hit a DNF wall. Part of it was just that woah life stuff came at me out of nowhere, and suddenly I had no real brain power for reading. I picked up The Body in Question because it was short, and murdery, and as has become PERFECTLY clear throughout this challenge… murder is my comfort read. This was a great book. Ultimately, it ended up being more about a woman coming to terms with a lot of heavy life stuff, and reconciling a lot of real world responsibilities in not-so-neat-and-tidy ways, and less about murder. Even so, it grabbed my attention enough to read the whole thing and really enjoy it.

Last Girl Lied To, by Laurie Elizabeth Flynn

I started this thriller on audio during the same stint of low executive function as when I picked up The Body in Question. By contrast, this was exactly what I expected it to be. Fast-paced, spine-tingling, high suspense, lots of twists and turns. As I tweeted at the author when I’d finished it, I’ve learned this year that “manipulative best friend who I am also kind of in love with” is very complex, and also possibly my favourite. Also in this vein, The Best Lies, and I Know You Remember (above).

The Ghost Bride, by Yangsze Choo

I came across this book on a list of spooky books for Halloween season, and I noticed that it had already been optioned for Netflix. It was available as an audiobook, so even though it skews somewhat historical fiction, I decided to go for it. Yall, it took me a minute to get through this one. Last Girl Lied To was actually a brain break I took in this middle of beginning The Ghost Bride on audio, and my three week loan expired and I had to borrow the eBook from the library to finish it. Although the ending of this book was unexpected and had me questioning the protagonist’s decision making skills, I still really enjoyed it. Filled with mythology and in an uncommon setting for books in the North American market, this book was lush and like nothing I’d ever read. I’m dying to know what the adaptation will be like, and that’s not a familiar feeling for me.

The Darkest Corners, by Kara Thomas

When I tweeted about having read Last Girl Lied To, the book’s author was kind enough to respond with some of her favourite toxic friendship book recs, including See All the Stars, by Kit Frick, and “any thriller by Kara Thomas. I went to Overdrive, and The Darkest Corners was available. I started reading it after a whirlwind week of relationship turbulence, puppy care, vet visits with my older dog who is on palliative care, and some strife in my PhD studies, on a day when my brain needed a break.

The Lying Game, by Ruth Ware

It was members of my online book community, the Rogue Book Coven, who originally recommended Ruth Ware to me. I was wary of trying her books, because it’s very unusual for me to enjoy books by a mainstream author. However, The Lying Game was available on audio through Libby one day before I had to take a long drive, and I started it, and I couldn’t put it down. I’m a sucker for any book with a spooky seaside setting, but this unsettling story with sublime pacing captivated me. I’ve already put all Ware’s other titles on hold through the library. Add this to your list of toxic friendship books that bowled me over.

And then, as anyone who follows my Twitter or Goodreads knows, I DNF a lot. Maybe more than a person should. I wanted to document the books that I tried to read, and didn’t quite get through, during this readathon. So here they are…

Lies You Never Told Me, by Jennifer Donaldson

The style of writing in Donaldson’s first book just wasn’t for me. Now that I know how good her second book is, though, I’m definitely going to go back and give this another go.

Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins

This book is a classic example of why I’m sometimes hesitant about mainstream authors. I started listening to this on audio, I was into it, and then suddenly there was a bunch of content about unhealthy substance use that just came out of nowhere. It felt unnecessary, and it totally turned me off of the book.

And the Trees Crept In, by Dawn Kurtagich

Seemingly unnecessary ableism in the first couple of chapters around one of the main character’s bodies made me DNF this immediately.

Hocus Pocus and the All New Sequel, by AW Jantha

I had hoped this 90’s cult classic would have aged better, and I was looking forward to the queer rep in the new book. Spoiler alert: it did not age well. Stick to the movie.

My Story, by Elizabeth Smart, and What is a Girl Worth, by Rachael Denhollander

I started both of these books, and it quickly became evident that they would be oriented toward a very white Christian worldview. Given our current political climate, I simply cannot with that.

Death and the Seaside, by Alison Moore

I gave this one a college try, but I was just bored by both the narrative, an extremely unsympathetic main character, the novel-within-a-novel format, and what felt like a touch of ableism.

The Laws of the Skies, by Grégoire Courtois

This book became gruesome too quickly for me. I’m not down for the shock-and-awe for its own sake kind of horror, and this felt like it was going to be that. Serves me right for considering a book by a male author for a change?

The Witches: Salem, 1692, by Stacy Schiff

I enjoyed a few chapters of this very long book before I became lost in the details of names and dates and was unable to commit to it in the long haul.

A Darker Shade of Magic, by Victoria Schwab

Maybe it was my mood, but I just wasn’t interested in any of the characters in this book at all. I think that Schwab has a lot more affection for men than I do in general, but I found none of the MCs in this book drew me in. Without anyone to root for, I couldn’t stick it out.

Girls of Paper and Fire, by Natasha Ngan

I was having a rough time when I started this one, and there was some swift and disturbing animal violence right up front. I may give this one a chance another time, but for now, it’s not for me.

A badge that reads Spellhacker, by M K England: Launch Crew Member.

Critical Publicity

Currently Reading: After the Eclipse, by Fran Dorricott

On Talking About Books

Recently, I was listening to an episode of the Print Run Podcast that was about the nuances that exist in talking about books, particularly the difference between writing about books for the sake of criticism versus writing about books for the sake of publicity. I spent the remainder of my drive after the episode ended thinking about my own talking about books, and considering why it is that I do what I do, and exactly what it is that I think I do, both in my personal life, and in this blog.

I have lots of qualifications that mean that I am well-suited to write literary criticism. I am a published doctoral student with a speciality in critical theory, and I spend a lot of time evaluating, peer reviewing, and producing academic writing. I am also a bookseller in a small, independent, justice-oriented bookstore in Toronto. If I’m feeling particularly self-confident, I would tell you that my marginalized identities and my social location mean that I bring a unique perspective to the books that I read.

That said, I would be lying to myself and anyone who cared to ask if I didn’t say that even when I’m providing criticism of a book, I’m ultimately doing it for the purposes of sales. It will probably damage my anti-capitalist street cred to say that, but living in a capitalist world, when I look around me and I consider what luxury purchases I want people to spend their surplus money on, and what investments I want people to make with their time? I want them to spend it on books.

A lot of that is selfish. Publishing is not a perfect industry, by any stretch – and mass market publishing is such a small part of the publishing sector as it exists in the world. But as person who has often felt isolated in the world, it’s not an exaggeration when I say that books have often been my closest friends, and there are many parts of my life that I never would have survived without them.

Reading is formative for me. It has made me who I am and continues to make me. Book sales provide some of my very limited income. And one of the only things that I have strong faith in is the ability of ideas to make the world better… so ultimately, I spend a lot of my energy trying to get the books that I think will do that into the hands of people who need them.

I’m not always sure that readers understand all of the moving parts that is the giant machine of mass market publishing. I know that I don’t fully understand it yet, and I had an even more limited grasp before I began working as a bookseller. From conception to writing to physical production to distribution to sales, there are so many links in the chain that need to remain strong for books to make it into the hands of readers.

Right now, at the shop where I work, there are some scary conversations happening. Toronto is one of the most expensive cities in Canada, so the basic costs of maintaining a storefront in this city are a challenge for any retail business, especially one with profit margins as small as bookselling has. Although my shop still maintains a storefront, we also do the vast majority of our business through school board contracts and with educators – whose budgets are getting slashed by our current provincial government. That means fewer book fairs, fewer vendor fairs, and fewer librarians, lib techs, and teacher librarians who are ordering from us.

On a more macro level, things like paper shortages and tariffs on books will impact our tiny store’s ability to get newly published titles in a timely manner, especially in comparison to places like Amazon and Indigo, who are able to order much larger quantities of books pre-sale. Because of this political climate, the amount of backorders and slow reprints that we have to manage these days is much higher than it was in the past, which makes it difficult to please educators and retail customers.

And more than ever, authors are being pressured by their economic situations and also by the publishing industry to always, always, always be focused on that elusive measure of success… the pre-order. But so often, I see huge authors – in some cases, very successful people who have won the majority of their recognition in part due to the efforts of independent booksellers – promoting their pre-sales through Amazon, or other big chain bookstores. Authors are my heroes, but it hurts my heart to see those links. Indies (and other brick and mortar stores) can take pre-orders, too!

When I review a title, I always try to offer a critical perspective. I choose diverse titles to read on purpose. I almost never read books written by allo cis het men, and I try to read as many books by underrepresented authors and with characters who embody marginalized identities as possible. No matter what I read, I try to write reviews honestly and analytically.

But when I review a title… I am always hoping that someone is going to go out and buy a book, or visit their local library and take one out. I always hope that someone is hearing about a book that they need to read, or that someone they know needs to read, when they open my blog on a Monday afternoon – or, that they’re hearing about a book that they should absolutely avoid, but in favour of something that’s going to do the job better. I don’t think that that makes my reviews less legitimate, or that it makes my perspective less valuable. Publicity for any individual book is important, but whether I review a single title well or poorly, I like to think that that is publicity for books… and for me, that is the most critical thing of all.

Review: Wilder Girls

The cover of Wilder Girls, by Rory Power.

…which brings me to my review this week. I almost don’t even need to review Wilder Girls, by Rory Power, which was released on July 9th. As I’m writing this, it currently sits at the top of the Goodreads list of top titles published this month, with over 40 000 users having added it to their “want to read” shelf. No one needs me to recommend them this book (content warnings found here), because chances are good, if it’s for you, you’ve heard about it already.

What the publicity copy on this book won’t tell you, though, is that this is a book that I needed, and that the world needs, so badly. The book is gripping. I stayed up way past my bedtime and woke up long before my dogs were hungry the next morning just to finish it. In so many ways, I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for a book like this one.

This is a YA title, but this book is straight up genre fiction. It’s definitely a horror title that stands on its own legs outside of the YA category – and for me, that’s important in and of itself, because it demonstrates the depth and breadth that YA titles encompass these days. More than that, this book is queer AF. Three are three main protagonists in this story, and all three of them are queer women. But the best thing for me? That’s not what the book is about. The book is about politics, infectious diseases, climate change, adaptation, transformation, disfiguration, trauma, coming of age, mental health, love, friendship, and ALSO… queerness.

The protagonists of Wilder Girls are complicated. The relationships that exist between them and that the characters have with themselves are morally ambiguous and messy and raw… and this book isn’t even about all that. We are finally getting books that embody those aspects of queer life and community, but also have riveting, thought-provoking, surprising plotlines. This is one of the first times that I have ever felt myself reflected in a book in an authentic, multi-faceted way, and I am deeply grateful for the weird and wonderful experience that that was.

Listen. It surprises me more than anyone that 40 000 want to read about infectious queer girls sprouting gills and fighting over food and trying to save their friends from dying, literally. But I am here for it.

If you didn’t pre-order Wilder Girls, and you think that it’s your speed, don’t sleep on it. Your local bookshop can and should hook you up, and while you’re at it, put in a request at your local library, too. Out there, there’s a teenaged me who’s going to have a very different life than I did because this book landed in their hands early on.

Spooky Books for Sunny Seasons

Currently Reading: Pet, by Akwaeke Emezi

Recent Picture Recent Releases

The cover of When Aidan Became a Brother, by Kyle Lukoff and Kaylani Juanita.

Before I dive in to the recommendations I have this week, I want to make quick reference to two recently-released picture books featuring trans characters. Both of these books came out on June 4th, and would be a great addition to any personal or classroom library. They are, When Aidan Became a Brother, by Kyle Lukoff, and illustrated by Kaylani Juanita, and It Feels Good to Be Yourself, by Theresa Thorn, and illustrated by enby artist Noah Grigni. Be sure to check these out, and if you’re able, consider ordering them through your local independent bookshop!

The cover of It Feels Good to Be Yourself, by Theresa Thorn and Noah Grigni.

New Releases to Give You Chills

I grew up on an island in the North Atlantic. My body was not built for hot weather! If you’re like me, and you are seeking some spooky stories to beat the heat this summer, or a captivating thriller to keep you enthralled on the beach, I have recommendations for you, because there are some incredible grimdark tales set to release in the summer months this year.

Spring 2019

The cover of the Wise and the Wicked, by Rebecca Podos.

There are a couple of books that came out this spring that definitely fit the bill in terms of un-put-down-able reads for a spooky summer. I’ve written about one of these already, The Wise and the Wicked, by Rebecca Podos, which came out this May, but it deserves a second mention here. This is one of my favourite reads of 2019 so far, hands down, and as a bonus, it features affirming and interesting trans representation. This YA title came out in May, and is available now.

The cover of The Van Apfel Girls are Fone, by Felicity McLean.

The Van Apfel Girls Are Gone, by Australian author Felicity McLean, also came out this past spring. This book is described as a thriller, and although I wouldn’t necessarily categorize it that way, it is a great, suspenseful book. I’ve seen it categorized as YA, but it has great potential as a YA/adult crossover.

I got a review copy of this book through Edelweiss+, and I loved it. I picked it up in part because it was described as “quintessentially Australian”, and I’d never read an Australian title before, so I wanted to see what that meant. In the end, I could not put this book down, and I learned a lot. It made me curious to read books by other Australian authors!

Although the plotline is focused on the disappearance of three girls, the narrative centres on how we process childhood memories as a adults, and how we come to terms with childhood grief. The story is not super sad, and it’s extremely compelling. CW for missing children, cancer, and death. The Van Apfel Girls Are Gone was released in April, and is available now.

July

The cover of The Best Lies, by Sarah Lyu.

Sarah Lyu’s The Best Lies is the perfect one-sitting YA thriller for a rainy day at the cottage or sprawling on the beach. I grabbed this book from Edelweiss+ because I thought it would be fast-paced and formulaic – but wow, was I wrong. This psychological thriller gets deep fast, and I didn’t want to put it down. We know from the beginning of this book that the protagonist’s boyfriend is dead, that he was shot, and that the person who killed him is the MC’s best friend. Very quickly, we learn that nothing is as it seems for this character, an unreliable narrator, or for the reader.

This story is told in two timelines – one that begins three hours after the death of Remy’s boyfriend, and one that begins nearly a year earlier, when Remy met her best friend for the first time. As the plot of this murder mystery unfolds, the pacing and suspense both build, and readers are lead through an exploration of trauma, abuse, queerness, gun violence, and love. It’s a fantastic, if difficult read. I would recommend this book to any teen, educators interested in inclusive discussions about healthy relationships and boundaries, and adult readers alike. CW for domestic violence and obsessive behaviour. The Best Lies is available for pre-order now, and will be released on July 2nd.

The cover of Destroy All Monsters, by Sam J. Miller.

Both of my other July recommendations are books that deal with issues of mental health in a nuanced, sometimes suspenseful, and sometimes fantastical way. Both of these books reflected aspects of my own experiences in ways that kept me reading. I got an eARC of Destroy All Monsters from Edelweiss+ based on the recommendation of one of the owners of the shop where I work. Her description of this YA title really drew me in. Destroy All Monsters is by Sam J. Miller, a gay author, and is told from the perspectives of two friends, Solomon and Ash, who both experienced a traumatic event prior to the beginning of the narrative. Solomon suffers from psychosis and inhabits a rich inner world that is explored through his fantastical chapters, whereas Ash only experiences Solomon’s fantasies through the lens of her camera. The friends do not remember the trauma that they share, and this book explores their journey of discovery together.

I loved aspects of this book, but there were aspects that were disappointing. The treatment of mental illness in this book was skillful, however the ending was particularly unsatisfying for me, given the centrality and depth of the narrators’ friendship throughout the book. That said, for readers interested in exploring themes around trauma and who like fantasy worlds with awesome sky-dragons and suspenseful plotlines, this book is still a great read. This book comes out on July 2nd, and is available for pre-order now. CW for childhood trauma and sexual abuse.

The cover of Fractalistic, by Gerardo Delgadillo, which shows the image of a girl with eyes closed and hair spread above her head, as though she is floating. The background is a mixture of opaque images of stars and waves, and the cover is largely in monochromatic colours.

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you’ll know already that it’s not often that I will pick up a book that’s written by an author who appears to be a cis het white man… but seriously, if that cover doesn’t draw you in, I’m not sure what will. Shoutout to Shayne Leighton, who designed this, and most of the other Parliament House Press Covers, for grabbing my interest in Fractalistic, by Gerardo Delgadillo, which I got as an eARC through NetGalley.

For me, Fractalistic did have some tell-tale signs regarding the author’s privilege. None of the feminine characters in the book had the understanding of technology that the MC’s male love interest did. The male love interest’s future was also of great concern, whereas the futures of the female characters was never discussed in seriousness. In addition, although the book featured a racially diverse cast, the Spanish used because of the Mexican setting was all translated nearly word for word, and other aspects of diversity were lacking. All of the characters in the book were cisgendered, and the multiple romantic storylines were all heterosexual.

The other aspect of this book that was disappointing was that the technology itself was not well-described. I was surprised to read that the author is himself a coder, since it felt to me as though it was written by someone without a thorough understanding of the subject matter, but obviously it was a problem of translation and not of comprehension.

Even with the books flaws, I have to say that I ate it up. It’s a YA/adult crossover, so I would recommend it to mature readers of any age. Fractalistic is an absolute fever dream, and it was a spooky pleasure to let it wash over me. What was even more of a pleasure was that the surprising conclusion of the book was emotionally satisfying and had a lot of poignant things to say about the experience of mental illness. As a reader who has experienced many symptoms of neurodivergence and mental illness throughout my life, this book felt resonant and reflective of my experiences, and it was really enjoyable to read. Fractalistic comes out on July 9th, and is available for pre-order. CW for death of a parent, psychosis, gaslighting and manipulation.

(PS, if you like Fractalistic, but you are also a fan of cozy mystery, YA romance, and publishing world intrigue? Keep your eye out for The Undoing of Thistle Tate, by Katelyn Detweiler, which comes out on July 23rd. I DNF’d this book because the tropes weren’t for me – but it’s a bit more lighthearted than Fractalistic and has a lot of similar appeal!)

August

The cover of Here There Are Monsters, By Amelinda Bérubé.

I got an eARC of the YA novel Here There Are Monsters by Amelinda Bérubé through NetGalley. Although Here There Are Monsters might not have been my favourite spooky read of this year, I think it might be the perfect book to take to a beach. This book is a classic monster murder horror story. There’s nothing too heady here, and there’s a lot of really great, creepy imagery. The main character’s sister disappears in the first pages of the novel, and the rest of the story follows the MC’s quest to get her back from the monsters in the haunted wood behind their house.

Although this story is predictable and tropey, it’s well-written, and the characters are relatable. It’s a quick read, making it perfect for evoking spooky feels on a summer day. I didn’t have strong feelings about this book, but I enjoyed it. CW for violence, and off-the-page death of an animal. Here There Are Monsters drops on August 1st, and is available for pre-order now.

If you enjoyed reading these recommendations, and would like some of your own, head on over to my contact page, and send me a message! I love giving recs and readers’ advisory, and have lots of experience from my work as a bookseller.

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