Category: Read This Book

Monique is a magazine writer going through a break up, and her career is stalled out. But then she gets an unusual request: Evelyn Hugo, the famous movie star, has agreed to be interviewed by Monique’s magazine, as long as Monique conducts the interview. Monique’s editor is annoyed but she agrees, and Monique finds herself sitting down across from the eighty-year-old legend. But Evelyn doesn’t really want an interview—she wants Monique to write her life story. Why Monique, Evelyn won’t say just yet, but she promises it will all make sense in the end. As Monique balances her own curiosity with her editor’s impatience and Evelyn’s adherence to chronological order, she settles in and listens to Evelyn’s incredible life story.

I loved the way this book was told, vacillating between Monique’s point of view and Evelyn’s telling. Modeled after some of the most famous actresses of Hollywood’s golden era, Evelyn’s story seems to be that of excess—she’s been married seven times, she has weathered scandals, she’s endured countless rumors, and broken many hearts. Her films have been wildly successful and total flops, but she’s always been a household name. But I truly loved the real reason behind some of her most enigmatic decisions: Evelyn was in love with a fellow famous actress for decades, and now wants to come out as bisexual. But that’s not the only surprising revelation, and things get personal the more Monique digs into her past. I thought the tension between timelines was perfectly balanced, and I am in awe of any writer who can write about a character’s life in a span of decades, and do so in a way that keeps readers invested at every turn.

This was also just a really great reflection on how we can never truly know what’s going on in other people’s lives. So many details of Evelyn’s life, as reported in the tabloids, make her look flighty and irresponsible and while she makes it abundantly clear she is a flawed person with many mistakes, the outward appearance is usually protecting secrets and those she loves. I also really enjoyed the sections in which Evelyn ruminates on what it means to leave behind a legacy, and the responsibility that entails. The lessons she imparts on Monique have a big impact on her personal perspective, and everything is on the line when the real reason Evelyn chose Monique finally comes to light. It’s a great book that might have readers divided on the characters’ decisions and motivations, but that’s what makes it such a great read!

I don’t normally go for old Hollywood stories, but I am so glad I picked this one up for the wonderful characters, the queer representation in history, the delicious tension, and the brilliant storytelling that had me sobbing at the end!

Harvard University professor Annette Gordon-Reed is a Pulitzer Prize-winning historian and a Texan. In this quintessential book, she explores the confluence of the various historical happenings that brought us to Juneteenth. This book was actually written and published just prior to President Joe Biden signing Juneteenth into law as a federal holiday in June 2021. This doesn’t surprise me as there have been activists fighting for years to get Juneteenth recognized as a federal holiday.

Juneteenth, at its heart, began as a uniquely Black Texan holiday and it’s important to remember that. It originally commemorated June 19, 1865, the day that enslaved Blacks in Texas were freed. Texas was the last state in the Confederacy to have enslaved people and Juneteenth was two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation.

Gordon-Reed unpacks the labyrinthine history of Texas to explain why Texas was the last holdout of slavery. She also gives a very different history lesson than what we’re taught in U.S. schools about perhaps who the first Black people to step foot on this land were and how truly diverse Texas’s history and topography is. It’s not all white men, cowboy hats, and tumbleweeds as popular media would lead folks to believe.

The author also weaves in her personal story and family history as Black Texans, which only adds to the already fascinating writing. As she goes through the sordid and complicated history of the Indigenous, Spanish, Mexican, white, Black, and more folks who converged in Texas and does not leave the racist portions of Texas’s history and present untouched, she also unabashedly loves her home state and tells readers why Texas is worthy of her love.

I learned so much from this very short book and it upended so many of my preconceived notions about Texas’s history and its present. It is definitely worth a read!

Yami is all set to follow her brother Cesar to the swanky new Catholic school he won a scholarship to, even though she has reservations about the Catholic part. She doesn’t mind that she has to come up with half the tuition money herself—anything to get away from her former best friend who outed her after she came out to her. After that experience, Yami is prepared to keep her head down and play it straight at school. That becomes pretty difficult when she meets Bo, a classmate and out lesbian who never seems to back away from proclaiming her truth and sticking to her ideals. As they slowly become friends, Yami finds it difficult to hide her attractions to Bo…but she’s not yet willing to risk rejection at school and home by living her truth.

I’ve been reading queer YA for a long time now, and around 6-7 years ago there was a big push to move queer YA beyond the coming out story, which was absolutely needed, but I also believe we absolutely need books like this one: Big-hearted, intersectional novels about queer Mexican girls struggling with their own internal homophobia, homophobia within their families, and the homophobia within institutions like the Catholic Church. Yami is such a bright and funny protagonist, and she cares deeply about her family. I found my heart breaking for her as she planned for the future, saving money for when she’ll surely be kicked out of the house while trying to figure out who her allies were. Her reality is still all too relatable for so many teens, but her strength, creativity, and love for others were also really inspiring.

This book gets messy and isn’t afraid to tackle really big issues like immigration, religion, and mental health, but it’s absolutely the type of book that everyone, especially those who don’t live in inclusive homes or communities, need to read because it empowers readers to stand up for themselves while also embracing the imperfect people who love them, and offering a hopeful look at the future. I appreciated that Yami’s story doesn’t wrap up neatly with everyone in the book suddenly becoming LGBTQ+ allies because that wouldn’t be realistic, but Reyes offers readers a slice of hope that is greatly needed and much appreciated.

Happy reading!
Tirzah

This story is told from the point of view of Abby. Abby is a plus-size fashion blogger with bright pink hair and a bold sense of style that I identify with heavily. Tropical prints? Bright colors? Clothes and accessories with a fruit theme? Literally half my closet. Abby is queer and laments that she is never going to get a girlfriend. She’s convinced herself that she is the sassy sidekick to the “star of the show,” her best friend Malia. (There is no actual show.)

Our heroine is seventeen and got an internship with Lemonberry, a fashion brand that she is obsessed with that also has their boutique within walking distance of Abby’s house. Walking distance is important because Abby pretty much walks everywhere. She doesn’t know how to drive and she really isn’t interested in learning. When she shows up to her internship on her first day, so does another girl that she has seen around her high school. This girl is Jordi Pérez and her style (all black everything) adds to her seeming cool and aloof. Maggie, the brand creator and owner, tells both girls that they both have a summer internship but that the resulting job in the Fall can, unfortunately, only go to one of them. Abby’s strength is social media, as evident by her own fashion blog with a robust following. Jordi’s strength is photography and she always has a camera on her, documenting her life. No one wants this internship to be a competition but it kind of is a competition.

And then Abby starts crushing on Jordi. Hard. We learn quickly that the feeling is mutual.

Abby’s best friend Malia is dating a guy named Trevor. Trevor’s best friend is a guy named Jax and Jax, like Abby, is tired of being the third wheel to Malia and Trevor so Jax and Abby become friends. Jax’s dad is working on an app and he asks Abby to do some field work with him to rate a bunch of different burgers around L.A. This is, in some small way, an act of rebellion from Abby. Her mom is a local celebrity who runs “Eat Healthy with Norah!” and is the kind of person who thinks it’s okay to replace tortillas with leafy greens. She doesn’t approve of Abby’s fatness or gayness or pink hair and they’re constantly butting heads.

This book is an adorable queer, YA romance but it’s also a good exploration on the ideas of public versus private as well as trusting the people who are closest to you you. And I laughed out loud multiple times.

Two nameless Black teen girls have been best friends for most of their lives. Their relationship runs deep, and they count on each other for everything. It seems natural, almost inevitable when their friendship deepens into romance. But while one of them is deep, steady, and occasionally stormy like the ocean, the other burns hot and fierce as flames, and over the course of one unforgettable day, their relationship changes forever.

This is a novel in verse, told from the point of view of only one of the girls, and I was amazed by the beauty, clarity, and power of Woodfolk’s poetry. She has a gorgeous voice that flows naturally, and so many of her poems work on their own as well as functioning as chapters in this beautiful novel. She flawlessly weaves between the present day and glimpses of the past, building the girls’ relationship and their complicated, beautiful history together. And these girls are certainly not perfect. In a world where we expect queer people, and Black girls especially, to be role models or perfect in all they do, it was refreshing to read about messy relationships, bad choices, big mistakes, and attempts to do right by others, even if they don’t always hit the mark. The beauty in this book is in the central relationship, yes, but also in how the characters stumble and make mistakes and learn along the way. This is a moving novel in verse about what it means to be young and to try and figure out how to hold on to the people you love while also forging your path. Sometimes, you succeed. Sometimes you don’t. And in this book, Ashley Woodfolk reassures readers that it’s okay for relationships to fall apart, for things to end.

The TL;DR? Pick this book up for a moving exploration of a queer friendship and first romance burning out, and for reassurance that connection matters, even if it doesn’t always last.

The book is set in the U.S. in the late 1800s. There were witches at one time, for a long time, but then there were purges and plagues and witching is all but gone. It still survives a bit, mostly among women who are in the working class. That kind of witching, while not necessarily legal, is allowed to fly under the radar. It’s just domestic witching, not the trouble-making kind.

This is a story about three sisters and witching and so much more. The first sister we meet is James Juniper Eastwood aka June. She is the youngest and arrives in New Salem on the spring equinox of 1893. She is no stranger to witching, having learned from her grandmother. June is wild and impulsive and sassy and straightforward. When June gets off the train in New Salem she has no idea where she is going but she’s definitely not sticking around the train station where there are wanted posters with her face on them. She heads toward a rally in St. George’s Square.

Agnes Amaranth Eastwood is the middle sister. She’s strong and strong-willed. She works as a mill girl and she is also in New Salem. She doesn’t necessarily get along with the other mill girls and when we meet her she’s not feeling very well. She, too, eventually finds herself pulled to St. George’s Square.

The last sister, the eldest sister, is Beatrice Belladonna Eastwood. She is frequently lost in books which makes sense when we learn she works at the Salem College Library. She is wise and endlessly curious. Perhaps a little too curious as she is keeping a small journal of little rhymes and spells and notes about witching that she has found in her illicit research of witchcraft. She stumbles upon the beginning of a spell and she says it aloud. Nothing happens at first, but she too feels pulled to St. George’s square and she is also compelled to continue repeating that partial spell she found.

In the square it looks like perhaps the partial spell did do something, though incomplete. All hell breaks loose because witching makes people terrified. Beatrice, Agnes, and June find each other in the square after years of estrangement. And this is where our story really begins.

Everything I’ve mentioned is only in the first 25 to 30 pages. There is so much story and it’s beautiful and exciting and creepy and lovely.

Annie is a happily anti-social teen lesbian who feels cornered when her mom and principal team up and force her to join an extracurricular activity, then not-so-gently push her in the direction of the cheer squad. Annie is not the cheerleading type, but she’s pleasantly surprised when she heads to tryouts and finds that cheer is…not so bad? And the cheer captain is none other than Beatrice, aka Bebe, who was once Annie’s friend before they drifted apart and is now the squad’s first openly transgender cheer captain. Bebe convinces her squad to give Annie a chance and it’s not long before Bebe and Annie reconnect over early morning workouts and a true friendship is rekindled…that might evolve into something more.

I tend to care little for sports stories, so when I love one you know that it’s well-written and the characters are top notch! I fell in love with Annie’s sarcastic, intelligent voice and also her vulnerability around connecting with people her own age. I also loved Bebe—she’s sweet and kind, a little insecure in the spotlight, and genuinely happy to strike up friendship with Annie again. Their solo morning workouts are adorable, and it gives them a genuine connection and understanding for confronting some bigger issues amongst the squad. While on the surface the squad is the opposite of many cheerleader caricatures—they’re inclusive, excited to appoint Bebe as captain—they also have their own issues. Namely, they tend to tokenize Bebe in an effort to show just how inclusive they are, and while they always have her back, they don’t always check in with what she wants. The story also explores the inverse of many issues that get lots of attention in books about queer and trans folks—mainly, rather than having unsupportive parents, Bebe’s parents are so supportive they become overprotective.

The illustrations are bright and peppy, and the romantic storyline is sweet, making this a great read for all ages! I definitely recommend this for anyone looking for a lovely story about what it means to listen to the queer and trans folks in their lives, and how be a good ally!

Evelyn Caldwell is an award-winning researcher whose scientific breakthroughs on genetics and cloning are cutting edge. So when she discovers that her husband has used her research to clone her—or rather, a more docile version of her—she’s livid. But there’s nothing she can do to stop him from leaving her for Martine, because exposing him could cost her the funding she desperately needs for her lab. When he ends up dead, both Evelyn and Martine find that they’ve got to work together in order to not arouse suspicions.

I really loved the idea of a sci-fi take on the domestic thriller genre, and this book doesn’t disappoint. Evelyn is a driven character who cares deeply about her work, and her relationship with her husband has all the hallmarks of a man who can’t stand to be second-best next a brilliant wife. The twist of him cloning her, and using her research to neatly trap her into silence, was maddeningly brilliant, and I really enjoyed the fascinating world building Gailey sets up in a world that seems very similar to our own, but with more advanced genetic discoveries. There are limitations to cloning, naturally, but the more that Evelyn and Martine get to know each other, the more Martine seems to defy these limitations. At times, the tension in this book was so thick I could barely stand to put the book down and there are enough twists to satisfy even the most well-read thriller reader. I also really enjoyed that Gailey dug into some big ethical questions about cloning, and forced Evelyn to really consider her own morals. This is a unique take on some well-trod genres, and nearly impossible to put down!

Ring Shout is set in 1922 in Macon, Georgia. Our narrator and protagonist is Maryse Boudreaux. Her closest friends are Sadie and Chef and they’ve all set a trap for the creatures they are hunting. Nearby there is a KKK march/rally and it’s the 4th of July. While the human Klan members are awful, they are mostly vehicles for the real monsters called Ku Kluxes.

Ku Kluxes are terrifying beasts that are reminiscent of the aliens from the Alien films but Ku Kluxes are bone white with rows of eyes. So creepy. They gain power and feed off of hate and they often use human Klan members as disguises and hide right alongside them.

Maryse, Sadie, and Chef hunt Ku Kluxes. Sadie is amazing with a rifle and Chef is a delightful butch lesbian veteran who is brilliant with explosives. Maryse? She has a magic sword. Not everyone can see Ku Kluxes but these three have The Sight.

In the United States in 1915 there was a film released called The Birth of a Nation and it gave rise to and a lot of momentum to the KKK. This is actual history. In Ring Shout, the 1915 release of The Birth of a Nation was actually a magic ritual that white men used to summon demons, aka the Ku Kluxes. Ring Shout takes place seven years later when there are plenty of demons to be hunted. The person at the center of the demon-hunting is Nana Jean, who is a Gullah woman with some psychic powers. From some of the research that their little group’s scientist is doing and from Nana Jean’s visions, they can tell something is brewing. Something real, real bad.

Through horror, the author also offers us a really great examination of hate and the different kinds of hate. It’s a novella clocking in at just under 200 pages and it had me on the edge of my seat the entire time.

Content warnings for violence, gore, racism, racist violence, and body horror.

In 1955, hundreds of thousands of women across the United States spontaneously turned into dragons in a three hour period, setting fire to countless homes and businesses and devouring more than one philandering husband. Then they took to the skies and disappeared. Alex was only a child when the mass dragoning occurred and while her mother stayed, her beloved Aunt Marla left. Her cousin Beatrice became her sister, and Alex learned after that to never speak of the dragoning, or of dragons in general. But as she grows up and begins to learn more about her mother and aunt and the injustices of the world, and as Beatrice becomes perilously fascinated with that which should not be named, Alex must confront all of the anger and secrets that society would keep hidden.

I adored this book. The premise alone had me hooked from the get-go, but the actual writing is incredibly beautiful and fairy tale-like, yet grounded in wonderfully real and tangible details. Barnhill is a Newbery Medal winning children’s writer and you can see that in how deftly she writes about Alex’s childhood, but this is also very clearly a book written for grown ups. It probes into the injustices women face and the ways that society expects everyone to keep quiet about the obvious, and how we suppress knowledge if it doesn’t conform to the conclusions we’ve already drawn. These ideas can be explored at any point in American history, but I loved how it was set in the ’50s and ’60s, as women who found freedom during WWII were suddenly forced back into stifling gender roles and change was brewing. The book is written in the style of a memoir, interspersed with various reports, witness statements, studies, and other ephemera that help expand the world and give context to Alex’s story. Her own account is a beautiful memoir of love, acceptance, queerness, found family, and self-determination that spans years and had me crying and laughing and crying again. I inhaled this book—it’s a truly magical gem.