Category: In Reading Color

Author of poetry collection If They Come for Us (which has a beautiful, illustrated cover and is also on my TBR!) Fatimah Asghar writes of three sisters who become orphaned with the loss of their parents. Each has their own struggles — from questions surrounding gender and identity to assuming the role of parent as an older sibling — and only each other as they try to navigate life as Muslim American girls.

This is another one that is so super, duper up my alley. This collection of stories takes place in varied environments throughout the Americas — from bustling cities to jungles — and looks at the magic inherent within. Stories with everything from resurrected saber tooth tigers to tarot to beginner Brujeria offer chances at righting moral wrongs and I’m so here for them all.

The plots, the premises in these books, I tell you! This is set in Navajo Nation and follows Rita Todacheene, a forensic photographer who is very good at her job. Like, too good. This is because she can see the ghosts of victims who point her to clues that solve their cases. She encounters one ghost who is very persistent and latches onto her, though. Now she’s being pressured to exact revenge, but this may come at the cost of her own life.

Johnson chronicles his life growing up a Black, queer boy in New Jersey, as well as his experiences as a young adult in college in Virginia. He recounts the trauma that is often experienced by queer youth of color, but he also speaks of the joy, like his time spent with his grandmother. The racists and bigots and big madT about this one; it’s the third most challenged book of 2021.

This is another YA book, this time a love story set in the very racist Texas of 1937. It follows Mexican American Naomi Vargas and Black American Wash Fuller as they navigate East Texas and all its bleak racism, as well as their own forbidden feelings for each other. This novel can get very depressing, but it does such an excellent job of showing what life could be like for a Mexican girl in that time. It’s also been nominated for a few awards. It was fourth most challenged book (Kelly Jensen actually wrote it being pulled for review in Texas.)

The Izquierdos all have their own, distinct personalities, but they’re all close. They’re also cursed. Or, at least, that’s what Papa Izquierdo thinks, after curious items that are known to be used for curses are found buried in their yard. As a result, any sadness or misfortune that befalls the family gets blamed on the jealous man he believes cursed his family. Each chapter is told by a different family member, and shows how the family perseveres through hardships because of their love for each other.

Given the success of Cemetery Boys, I know this is going to be popular. Every decade, Sol’s power must be restored so that he can keep the Obsidian gods from destroying Reino del Sol. To do this, he needs someone who will carry light to all the temples in his kingdom, and someone whose body will serve as a sacrifice to him. To determine who gets chosen for either, Sol selects 10 teens — semi gods — 13-18 years old who will enter into the Sunbearer Trials. Now Teo, the 17-year-old trans son of the the goddess of birds, Quetzal, isn’t too worried about the trials until he and his friends are chosen. Now, as a Jade semi god, he’s worried about making sure he and his friends survive the mysterious competition.

This is a funny and endearing graphic novel that follows 19-year -old Aya in 1978 Ivory Coast. Its art style is cute and fun and it’s super entertaining (former Book Rioter Rincey Abraham likens it to a nighttime soap), but one of the things I like best about it is that it’s a West African story that isn’t based in trauma. The Ivory Coast Aya lives in—which is similar to the one the author lived in—is an affluent one. At the time, the Ivory Coast was experiencing a golden era of stability and affluence, the kind that allowed a teen girl to get into funny shenanigans with her friends and other eccentric characters.

Different worlds converge in the heritage of a young girl growing up in the Parisian suburbs. Her skin color sets her a part from many of her neighbors and is a constant reminder of the connection to Guadeloupe she has through her father. A connection that is fleshed out by an older aunt, who tells her of the Guadeloupean Ezechiels from which she hails. Wrapped up in the family saga is a doomed romance between lovers of different classes, life in the countryside, modernization, and most of all, how all of this unfolded under the umbrella of colonization.

Thee Beverly Jenkins gives us another book in her Women Who Dare series. This one’s about Raven, who is basically a scammer who lives for drama. When she’s forced to scam on behalf of the government, she understandably feels some type of way. They’ve got her masquerading as the housekeeper for a former Confederate official in order to recover the Declaration of Independence. Thing is, the man posing as her husband/the valet is Too Fine TM, and things… happen.

I’m so excited for this one! Mika Moon has never quite felt like she belonged. Not only was she was orphaned at a young age and raised by strangers, she’s also one of very few witches in Britain and has to keep her magic a secret. The secret gets out, though, after she posts videos online pretending to be a witch. Now there’s this weird request asking that she go to this place called Nowhere House where she is to teach three young witches about their magic. She goes, naturally, and what she finds there — a part from her three pupils — is a host of other colorful characters, danger, and a steamy romance with a prickly librarian. This is the perfect way to bring in witchy season.

An amateur cryptozoologist has accepted a job investigating the fabled beasts of Yong’an, a fictional Chinese city. As she uncovers each creature’s story, a deep mystery presents itself that may unravel everything she believes about what it means to be human.

Friends, I am simple. If I see a book about an Indigenous Mexican healer that’s titled “Witches,” and has a woman with a rooster head on the cover, I’m reading it, period.

Here, Zoe, a young journalist from Mexico City, is sent to a mountain village to report on the murder of a woman named Paloma. She soon finds out that Paloma was not like other women, though. Before she was killed, and before she even drew breath as Paloma, she lived as Gaspar, a traditional healer. Once Zoe meets Paloma’s cousin Feliciana, the two woman become entangled in each other, their disparate experiences complementing the other’s as they try to survive in a man’s world.

The history of Ai Weiwei’s family and that of China seem to be intrinsically linked. His father, Ai Qing was once the country’s favorite poet and a friend of Mao Zedong. once he was labeled a rightist, however, he was banished to Little Siberia and forced to do hard labor. After surviving a childhood in exile, Ai Weiwei moved to the U.S. to study art. There, he became friends with people like Andy Warhol and Allen Ginsberg. The link connecting him to China called him back, though, taking him from an unknown artist in his home country to a highly celebrated one. But with his artistic renown also came notoriety for being a human rights activist. Like his father, he became an enemy of the state, despite his earlier favor, and was secretly imprisoned for months without being charged in 2011. With this memoir, Ai juxtaposes his life against his father’s — highlighting how his father was silenced as an artist — as well as the culturally relevant moments of their nation.

Frida Kahlo is an obvious art icon, but I wonder how much people know of her life. Here, a fictionalized version of her life is imagined, courtesy of several actual notebooks of hers that were found in her Mexico City home. From her terrible car accident to her lovers (like Tina Modotti and Diego Rivera) to her distinctive art, this book fully fleshes out a larger-than-life person. The recipes included are also a really nice touch.

Philyaw’s church ladies are anything but simple. Her collection of stories shows the multifaceted and complex lives of Black women as they carve out their own lives despite expectations of the Black church, which has been a huge presence in the lives of many Black Americans for hundreds of years. Queer women meet with their lovers, young girls start to piece together their individual identities, and therapy — still not wholly accepted in many communities — is sought to break unhealthy ties. Philyaw’s characters jump off the page as she explores their most intimate moments.

Fittingly, Beyoncé has a song titled church Girl, which has the lines “church girl, don’t hurt nobody” followed by “You can be my daddy if you want to.” I mean, not that I know what those words in that order mean, or anything *cough*, but they really fit this book so well.

Black people — Black women, in this book’s case — have never been granted the opportunity to meet societal expectations in the Western world. Many would argue that what Black people were not allowed to do — and what white people could do in contrast — defined what it meant to be white, but that’s another point for another book. Considering all this, though, it makes sense that, following the Victorian era’s strict social mores, many Black women bucked so-called respectability politics and lived as they wanted. Hartman outlines how they redefined what marriage, motherhood, and sexuality meant. By determining which kind of relationships — and even working conditions — they wanted for themselves, they shaped a cultural movement.

Might I suggest you don’t mess with my sis

Cause she comfortable

Comfortable in my skin

Cozy with who I am

I feel like this is the song Cozy from the Renaissance album in book form. We follow Kim, Tanisha, Davene, and Cookie as they navigate their own friendship, as well as their everyday lives, in the Bronx. As the title suggests, the importance of wash day — when many Black women set aside time for self-care through hair maintenance — centers the friends’ story. Differing color palettes help set the mood — which is often cozy! — in this graphic novel as the women revel in their sisterhood.

I’ve been loving slice-of-life graphic novels/manga lately, and it’s dope to see Black women’s everyday lives brought to life on the page. I could see myself spilling tea with them in the hair salon as we sang along to someone’s playlist.

Clark, how shall I say, did the damn thing with this one. This has already been nominated/won other awards, and it’s clear why. The novel follows Fatma el-Sha’arawi, the youngest woman working for the Ministry of Alchemy in an alternate 1912 Cairo where magical Djinn walk the earth. While listening to the audiobook, I felt like I was being led through the gorgeous steampunk Egypt Clark builds, and I loved trying to figure out the mystery of who murdered the members of a rich brotherhood dedicated to the legendary Djinn master Al-Jahiz. Plus, Fatma’s girlfriend, Siti, sounds fine af. *looks, respectfully*

Jessamyn is in a messs. She’s broke and has to move back home to Malaysia after going to school in the U.S.— which isn’t a bad thing unto itself, but she’s not out to her family and now needs to hide that part of herself. Annd then there’s her grandmother who is deceased but also somehow in Jess’s head throwing up gang signs for the Black Water Sister, a deity her grandmother served as the avatar for when she was alive. Well, G-Ma is ride-or-die for the Sister, and has no problem dragging Jess into a world of gangsters, gods, and ghosts in order to exact revenge against those who have wrong her deity. *cue the Migos adlibs*

Two women from vastly different classes are thrown together in this novel inspired by the history and epics of India. Together, Malini and Pray, a princess and a maidservant, will use magic and everything else at their disposal to right the wrongs of a tyrant and save the empire. I mean, I’m always here for morally gray lesbians who set fire to empires, I don’t know about you.

Any of Robinson’s books’ll do ya, to be honest. In this one, she covers a wide range of topics — including her hair, the BLM movement, the commercialization of self care, and even some parental values (see: the title). Through all her essays, she offers a similar kind of humor and earnestness —and pop culture reference — as Abbott Elementary does.

And can I just say that the title is a word. I’ve literally had to tell people this before, smh.

Liz Lighty is shy, awkward, and trying to secure her way to an elite college. When she doesn’t win a scholarship, despite her stellar grades and extracurriculars, she’s convinced to try and win the prom queen scholarship. She’ll just have to deal with the competition, spotlight, and internalized self doubt that comes courtesy of growing up as a Black person in a very white, Midwestern area. There’s a bright side to all this, though, in the form of Mack, who is also running for prom queen. Lovely romcom shenanigans ensue.

Liz reminds me of Quinta’s character Janine in Abbott Elementary. Although she’s younger, she’s still kind of awkward, smart, and very hopeful about her future. She is also real about the racism around her.

The show’s entire premise is based around the struggles of trying to teach in an underfunded school in Philly, and while this provides many scenarios ripe with humor, it’s not nearly as funny for those living it. So I wanted to share a book that actually looks at the city’s education system. Here, Urban education scholar Camika Royal analyzes 50 years of education reforms in Philadelphia and how they’ve helped the largely Black student population, as well as how they haven’t. Royal makes the point that most of the work to reform schools has been done by teachers, just like in the show.