June 2021

I very much don't want to talk about how I'm doing this month. (Hint: You know that noise Snoopy makes in the Peanuts cartoons? "Bleeeeeeh!"? That's me.) But I did okay-ish on reading, and... Less okay-ish at writing (but! I'm now 60% done with my Bad Things Happen Bingo fills, 32% done with my Kinktober fills, and 8% done with my Kinkmas fills), so. Here's what I read:

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Cripes, Yes, Daddy just gutted me. Queer sexual trauma with a religious slant? Did you mean MY ENTIRE LIFE??? This was 280 pages of intensity. It's emotionally cathartic in the way being beaten with a baseball bat is emotionally cathartic. I almost tapped out several times because it hit way too close to home. People trying to market this as an erotic thriller are nuts. This... No. This is not erotic; this is pure horror. And it's SUPPOSED to be pure horror. It tells a story that needs to be told. And if you know me, you KNOW I love a victim with edges. I myself am not a perfect little angel of an abuse survivor, and neither is Jonah in this story. That doesn't mean we deserved what happened to us; our story is still worth telling. (Trigger warnings for domestic abuse, abuse of authority, rape (underage rape, sexual abuse re: religious authority, etc), trafficking, cults, religious trauma, conversion therapy... The list goes on!) Anyway; this was fantastically written and fantastically paced, and I never want to read it again; it made me furious and sick to my stomach in turns. Five stars aren't enough; give it ten stars. Twenty. Going on my 'best of 2021' list for sure. This first-time author was perfect for the job; he managed to write a story of this heft while keeping it brisk and brief, never romanticizing the horror. If "illegal gay sex ring in the Hamptons shortly before the #metoo movement strikes" sounds at all interesting to you, you must read this. (And can I just say, I seriously appreciated the way the author twisted the 'toxic billionaire love interest is just traumatized from his own abuse, but he can be fixed by love!' trope onto its head? Yes, Richard was probably molested by his mother. No, that doesn't make any part of his actions okay. I'm glad that was spelled out so clearly. Christian Grey, he ain't.)

Continuing my newly resurrected (one might say "exhumed," heh) obsession with all things death, I read Mary Roach's Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. (Caitlin Doughty is responsible for this, by the way. Her "Ask a Mortician" series is a macabre, often hilarious, always insightful delight... I've binged dozens of episodes in the past few weeks.) I... Don't enjoy Roach's work as much as I do Doughty's. Roach has the irritating habit of trash-talking the industry and the people involved with her "clever" little comments. Yes, she provides detailed and clear information, but do we really need to know her quippy opinions on how "gross" and "disturbing" everything all is, or her thoughts on scientists' fashion choices and facial features? Like... Please be professional. Death and decay are huge interests of mine, and I don't appreciate any ragging on them. It's not entirely Roach's fault -- she's a journalist; not someone who works in the death industry. And I do appreciate what she does as a journalist... The thorough work that went into researching and interviewing the actual experts, getting multiple perspectives on the page. She did her job and did it well, which is why my rating stays at four stars despite my annoyance. As always, I'm frustrated with peoples' impracticality on matters of death (embalming ain't really a great thing! Stop it! Just let corpses rot; it's what they're supposed to do! Rotting is good!), especially in the face of scientists trying and failing to earn public support towards more environmentally conscious methods. There was still a ton of really interesting stuff here; the history of cadaver use in medical science, for example; how taboo it used to be, how far professors went to acquire bodies (grave robbing! Hit men! Oh boy!). Laws and regulations and what it means to die in today's society. If this is an interest of yours, I recommend the read... Just be prepared for some unnecessary snark along the way.

In With Teeth, Arnett brings to the table the same dishes she'd brought with Mostly Dead Things: dysfunctional, unhappy queer families in the soupy heat of Florida. Like with MDT, I very much appreciate the message (spelled out explicitly), that queer relationships are just as difficult as straight ones. Lesbians can be manipulative and abusive, too! (As a lesbian, I really get sick of the 'wholesome and pure' or 'overly sexed' narratives I see in a lot of fiction. People assuming we're naturally maternal or intuitive or understanding of one another's bodies or whatever nonsense. It's annoying and, worse, dangerous, when people don't take us seriously if we say we're being abused.) This book also brings to light the pressure I see (and feel) everywhere: the need to portray perfection on the surface, because people are watching. We have to be the Good Example of our Kind. The good queers; palatable. Look; a business butch and a housewife femme mother! See! We're normal! If het couples fuck up with their parenting, they're just one couple. If a queer couple fucks up with parenting, then it's "proof gays shouldn't adopt" or "proof that Nuclear families are the only acceptable path" or whatever the fuck.

There's a lot of things on the table that make it hard to seek outside help, is what I'm saying, and all of that is present here. This was a frustrating read, at times, at this family's inability to communicate. But it did feel realistic. I disagree with the reviews calling the teenage son a "sociopath" -- I know so many teenage boys just like him; it's not even funny. (Why do you think I never want to be a parent?! Kids are the worst! I know; I was one!) What's more, his mental process is pretty clear. The anger, resentment, frustration he feels with his moms at different times; all of it is easily understood if you have any empathy or memory of the teen mindset. The realism here is painful, so much so that I wouldn't call this a "fun" read. It's full of flawed and lonely humans being flawed and lonely, and it hits too close to home to serve as good escapism. My biggest complaint is that there's no proper ending; the story just... Stops, leaving a lot unsaid. Mostly Dead Things was a more enjoyable read, in my opinion, but they're both books I recommend if you want a better understanding of the queer experience.

So I've been on the outs with YA lit for a while (though I won't say I feel that I'm "too old" for it, because I don't believe in any age restrictions on media). And I'm also not as wild about the fantasy genre as I used to be. So when presented with a "YA fantasy novel," you'd think I'd turn up my nose. Thankfully, youtuber Dominic Noble convinced me to give Raybearer a shot (book lovers, please watch his videos. He's such a sweetheart). I loved this. I won't categorize it as "LGBT lit," despite there being some queer characters and themes, because that aspect wasn't at the forefront of the story, but it was one of many character choices that I appreciated (and it contributed to avoiding a cheap love triangle entirely, thank God). Fans of Marvel's Black Panther will appreciate this, too, (not just because it's set in West Africa with similar fantastical worldbuilding and aesthetic choices -- I'm not saying all African stories are the same. But the author herself is a fan and directly cites the influence in her 'about the author' segment. It's very present). I often have a hard time with high fantasy, because I just can't suspend my disbelief long enough to really get into it. That was not a problem here. From page one, author Jordan Ifueko brought me in with her gorgeous writing. Nothing was bogged down by lengthy exposition; the magical and the political and the geographical aspects of this world were naturally unfolded in a clear and logical way that helped me feel at home. I wasn't an outsider looking in; I was part of the story, travelling on lodestones to the palace with Tarisai and her friends. Political intrigue unfolded for me just as it did for the characters, and we often arrived to the same conclusions at the same time. A skilled author like this is able to bridge that gap of disbelief with the reader; to hold our hand and show us their vision, so that by the time the conflict hits, the stakes climb high, we're fully invested. I enjoyed the hell out of this adventure, and I'm super hyped for the sequel.

Rabbit is the memoir of comedian Patricia Williams, and damn... Damn, does it hit hard. First off, the writing voice here was fabulous; Patricia's personality and humor shines through every word, which is the sugar needed to swallow this medicine down. (Seriously, I felt so bad laughing at some of this. When Rabbit talks about the outfit she chose for her mother's body to wear during her funeral, I had tears of laughter rolling down my face... Despite the scene being about a teenager laying her abusive mother to rest. Miss Pat is just that skilled at story-telling; at injecting humor into every sentence.) She writes about growing up impoverished and hungry in the ghetto; about an abusive alcoholic mother and a perpetually undernourished body, about the shame society heaps on poverty; the vicious cycle of it all. The sexual abuse she faces leading up to her first pregnancy at age thirteen made me sick to my stomach... While there were some people (a teacher, a case worker), who tried to help her, the system, the cycle of poverty and addiction and abuse and police brutality, are just so stacked against her. Of course she sold crack to get by; wouldn't you? Stories like this are so important, because so much of the world wants to glorify suffering as a 'pull yourself up by the bootstraps' sort of thing; to view it as just one step on the ladder to success. It doesn't work like that. Most people, born into this cycle, will die in it. Rabbit is the rare exception. And it's not because she's morally "better" or "stronger" than her family and friends, either -- it's all luck. There are so many moments she could have died, or fallen into a pit she couldn't climb out of. This was harrowing -- this was stressful. Whenever I hear stupid white people spouting hateful nonsense about 'welfare queens' or 'crack dealers' or teenage pregnancy or Black people targeted for the prison system, I just want to slap this book in their face (and then slap them a few more times for good measure). Oppression, segregation, racism -- it's alive and thriving. We keep people down because it benefits us. It gives us bodies to stand on while we reach higher and higher for that capitalist wealth and unearned privilege. I kind of want to introduce this book into peoples' lives as "Baby's First Look into Racial Justice," because Miss Pat is such a charismatic and warm voice; because she explains large and abstract concepts in a simple and personal way that surely even the most hardheaded bigot could understand.

Confession time: I'd never even heard of author Ursula Le Guin until a year or so ago. Crazy, considering how beloved and prolific she was. Anyway, yes, I finally gave A Wizard of Earthsea a shot. As I said for Raybearer, high fantasy isn't really my thing. I'm more of a sci-fi person these days... Even back when I liked fantasy, I was more of an urban fantasy gal. Edit: Apparently my dad tried to get me to read this series when I was little, but I thought it was boring and forgot it entirely. I'm gonna have to agree with my kid-self here: this was dry as unbuttered toast. It felt so... Clinical? Impersonal? It feels like we're watching this bratty kid's life from the range of a telescope; not like we're PART of it. His emotions are so muted... Even when he's doing horrible things, like pulling a creature out of hell(?), you're not really in the moment with him. Use some exclamation points, please! I can get behind an unlikable protagonist (and Ged's arrogance and superiority over other young wizards certainly qualifies him as such), but since we never see life from his point of view, he just comes across as annoying; a boy who causes problems and can't fix them for years upon years. His shame, his fear, his gratitude... All of it is EXPLAINED to us ("Ged felt," "Ged was," "Ged did,") rather than including us. Anyway, I DNF'd the book at the 50% mark, which means I didn't give it a star-rating (I feel like you can't rate a book unless you've read the whole thing), but I thought I would at least try to explain WHY I don't care for certain genres; why books like Raybearer work for me, while Wizard of Earthsea (or His Dark Materials, or Game of Thrones, or...) don't, despite all having good writing and creative world-building. For me, it's all about connecting with the protagonist, and I just didn't feel that here.

I'm making serious progress on my Animorphs collection! I own many of the books, and I got pretty good deals on them all, buying in bulk from ebay or etsy or thrift stores (I've got one deal coming up that I'm HELLA hyped for because collecting like this pours some much needed serotonin into my noggin. Oh, I have zero intention of KEEPING this collection; I'm gonna sell it once I get them all. I don't like to keep things. It's the JOURNEY I'm here for.) Anyway, I did a lot of Ani-reading! I read volumes 41-46, and may I just say that shit is getting real?! We're in the final stretch of the main series, and it shows. It feels like Marco's entire character arc is resolved! Unfortunately I'm pretty sure that #42 was the worst in the entire series, so, uh... I'm never reading that one again. But they can't all be great, and all was more than forgiven with the excellent punches that followed. The hits start comin' and they don't stop comin'! Remind me to make a list(s) when this is over of the must reads, the should reads, and the KILL IT WITH FIREs (of which there are few). Oh, also I've been into the podcast Animorphs Anonymous for a while, but now I also really like the Dork-Bajir Chronicles (they're hilarious, they love Marco as much as I do, AND they ship Marco/Rachel ALMOST as much as I do). I'm still very on the fence about Animorphing Time... They have some interesting discussions, but they have such bad-faith readings of my favorite characters that they piss me off more than not.