Danika reviews Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay edited by Paul Vitagliano

BornThisWay

For this book, I basically just have a list of pros and cons. I’ll start with the cons. When I got this book to review, my Women’s Studies major roommate, who had taken Queer Theory with me, groaned after looking at the cover/title. My partner, me, and my roommate all discussed being a little sick of this rhetoric. “Born This Way” and “It Gets Better” as slogans erase the complexities of queer experience. For instance, I don’t feel like I was “born gay”. I had crushes on boys all through my childhood. It wasn’t until high school that I (as far as I was aware of) developed any romantic feelings for women. I feel like queer people often feel the need to re-write the past, to insist that we were “Born This Way” and it is therefore unchangeable and therefore you can’t hate me for it. But personally, I find the dichotomy of “it’s a choice”/”born this way” absurd. I wasn’t born gay any more than I was born a reader or sarcastic or any other personality trait I have. But that doesn’t mean I chose those things. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have any romantic or sexual inclinations as a newborn. Why is this our slogan?

It’s not accidental that I mention the “It Gets Better” campaign: the introduction to this book does, too. And many of the stories buy into the “It Gets Better” narrative, which frames homophobia as taking place in high school hallways, and that once you are free of that, your life will get better. I understand that the “It Gets Better” project can be inspirational for some queer people, and I don’t mean to take away from that, but I dislike the passivity (we won’t change anything, you just have to tough it out) and simplicity of the claim, and the accompanying “Born This Way” slogan.

Many of the stories included in the collection also claim that you should always come out right away and anything is better than being closeted, ignoring the reality of queer youth who live in spaces where it is unsafe to come out, where they may be kicked out of their homes. One story (“Barney”) claims “I can’t think of any people I’ve known who’ve said their life got worse after coming out.” Not only that, but this line is bolded, an editor’s choice to emphasize it. I find that claim ridiculous, considering the numbers of homeless queer youth who were kicked out after coming out. Another story claims that most people already know that you’re gay before you come out (which also seems like quite a claim to me), and that line is bolded, though their subsequent statement that you should “move at your own pace” in coming out is not bolded. The stories and photos often come back to this idea that you are born this way, you have always been this way, and that you can’t hide it: the photos show the truth about you.

One more con: I did my usual count of gay male stories featured vs lesbian stories featured and it was around 72:19. That is disappointing. I think part of that is that the collection relies heavily on conflating nontraditional gender performance with sexuality (which ignores the existence of trans people), and we have such strict rules about male/masculine behaviour that it is very easy to say “LOOK! Of course I was gay, I was holding my wrist limp/wearing high heels/posing with my hand on my hip”, while we don’t do that quite as much with little girls. (Though look at that adorable Irish girl on the cover. Which brings us to the pros.)

On the other hand, this isn’t trying to be a collection about deeply thinking about queer identity formation. It’s just a little inspirational book with lots of cute photos and very short (less than a page) stories about the gay person pictured, usually their coming out story. This is a very attractive book, with glossy photos and great design. It’s aesthetically pleasing. Also, it’s cute to see baby queers! And I can see how if you’re just coming out, these simplistic hopeful stories could be really helpful. There are also some interesting themes in the book. It’s arranged chronologically, although I didn’t really see any huge change between the stories through time. The most interesting thing to me was the relationship between the photos and the person writing their story. In some ways, these adults are re-writing the person in the photo, making their current identity inevitable, projecting their queerness onto a child who had no conception of it (and likely had very little idea of romance or sexuality at all). In other ways, it is the story of these people coming to terms with that kid in the photo: the unabashed, honest child who they repressed and have only now been able to appreciate. They are re-excavating that child, embracing being that person again. It can be a journey to try to just get back to being that person again.

I think this a really cute little book with very simple messages (be yourself, gay is okay, “it gets better”). It’s worth flipping through (or checking out the blog it was based on), but do expect simplicity and it to be very gay male centered.

Link Round Up: Dec 19-25

Somewhat predictably, there has not been a lot of activity this week, but here are the links!

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C-Spot Reviews posted December Book Binge – Week 1 or What I Did During Christmas Hiatus.

The Rainbow Reader posted The Rainbow Reader Awards – The Very Best of 2012.

Sistahs On the Shelf posted a whole bunch of new reviews!

Sarah Diemer posted Poppy and Salt, a Free YA Short Story — Part of Project Unicorn (A Lesbian YA Extravaganza) and Sparkle Vlog 3: A Very Merry Solstice; Author Sarah Diemer on Family Solstice Traditions.

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No Rest for the Wicked: A Jane Lawless Mystery by Ellen Hart was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Mina Borsalino Flips Out by Sara Marx was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Spit and Passion by Cristy C. Road was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Art on Fire by Hilary Sloin was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

As always, there are more links on the Lesbrary`s twitter and facebook!

Danika reviews Frozen by Carla Tomaso

Frozen

Well, that was… deeply weird. I mean, I expected Frozen to be weird. The premise is that Elizabeth is glad to be free of her narcissistic mother when the mother dies, but finds herself having to raise her cryogencially frozen and age-regressed mother. What I though that meant (and what Elizabeth originally thought that meant) was that her mother would come back as a baby and she would raise her, hopefully to not be as terrible the second time around. I thought it would be an exploration of innate personality traits and learned behaviours, and Elizabeth’s psychological struggles in raising her mother and separating the two (Helen version 1 and Helen 2.0) as people. That is not what happened. Instead, Elizabeth finds herself with an eleven-year-old who has all of her seventy-year-old self’s memories and most of her personality, perhaps even intensified. Elizabeth doesn’t even raise her, really, just follows her instructions and does her homework. Helen has very few redeeming qualities, and I didn’t find Elizabeth especially likeable either, but somehow she has two people chasing after her (her ex-girlfriend, whom she treated horribly, and Helen’s school’s principal, who is male and knows she’s gay).

And speaking of that last parenthetical part, there’s a really awkward scene where Jim, the principal, attempts to win over Elizabeth (who, again, hasn’t treated him very well and has told him she’s gay) by dressing in a dress and wig. He says “I’ve decided to come out as a person with a gender dysphoria. I thought if I became a woman, you might be able to love me.” She replies by saying that that’s not how it works, and that people shouldn’t “play god” by “changing your gender” (or age). It seemed unnecessary and transphobic.

There is a lot of bizarre stuff in this book, from [spoilers, content warning for violence/disturbing] a cat-eating python randomly showing up, to a pyre of dead babies. Yeah. Oh, and in less-disturbing but other strange content, Elizabeth suddenly decides that she needs to get pregnant near the end of the novel, because she has a dream. And even though she’s never wanted a baby, she goes out and gets pregnant (by having sex once) and is suddenly really into the idea of having a baby. [end spoilers, warnings]

The back cover calls this a “dark comedy,” but I never really got the tone of the book. It didn’t seem funny to me, just bizarre. I couldn’t understand why two people were chasing after Elizabeth, I couldn’t understand her motivations, I didn’t get her relationship with her mother, and I didn’t… I just didn’t understand Frozen. I didn’t find Helen’s story interesting, because she still had the same memories and personality. She just has a younger body. The story seemed too unbelievable for realism, but not enough sci-fi to fit into that category, either. I did feel like there was potential in Helen and Elizabeth’s relationship, especially Elizabeth’s inability to let go of her mother, but it never really came together for me. [spoilers] There is one scene in which Helen says that Elizabeth has never loved her, and Elizabeth says that she has it all backwards. I feel like that was an interesting moment, but there was no real follow-up or build-up to it. [/spoilers]

I guess I was expecting Frozen to be an exploration of identity and psychology, not a comedy. The humor just didn’t come across to me; it just seemed like a series of bizarre (and violent) events. I really feel like I have missed something with this book. I really think I’m just not the right person for this book; the humor just didn’t appeal to me. If you’re into dark comedy with bizarre events and violence, maybe you’d appreciate this one more.

Erica reviews Bobby Blanchard, Lesbian Gym Teacher by Monica Nolan

BobbyBlanchard
In Bobby Blanchard, Lesbian Gym Teacher, Monica Nolan playfully revives the genre of the 1950s lesbian pulp fiction novel. The protagonist is Bobby Blanchard, former field hockey star turned Games Mistress at a private all-girls school in rural Michigan. While her teaching skills are next to none, Bobby has no problem with instructing girls and young women alike in more salacious physical activities.

Indeed, upon her introduction to the rest of the faculty, it appears that at least every other faculty member (male or female) has similarly queer tendencies.  The question then becomes, who will be Bobby’s love interest? But before the reader can get too caught up in who might be doing whom and whose eyes are roaming over what bodies, there is a mystery to be solved. The Math Mistress suddenly and mysteriously died the summer before, and the more Bobby—and her rival, Enid, the new Math Mistress—uncovers, the more complicated the scene becomes.

Part murder mystery, part field hockey education, part bedpost notching, Bobby Blanchard, Lesbian Gym Teacher, is as ridiculous as it is entertaining. For any reader who is looking for all the juicy details of Bobby’s conquests, you best look elsewhere. What the novel does offer though is brief and enticing glances into the passionate trysts wherever—and I really do mean wherever—Bobby might find herself! Add in a bit of isolation, teenage lust, and love triangles, and you’ve got yourself a pulp fiction novel that keeps the action moving.

Perfect for a holiday read, a book for the beach, or curling up under the covers to pass the winter nights. With Bobby Blanchard, Lesbian Gym Teacher, Nolan offers a novel that fulfills all the gossip you ever hoped to hear about an all-girl’s school—and playfully reminds us that we really are everywhere.

Monica Nolan has also written Lois Lenz, Lesbian Secretary.

[Check out Erica’s other writing at her website.]

Link Round Up: Dec 5-18

Rubyfruit   TheColorPurple   FriedGreenTomatoes

Autostraddle posted

How do we define Lesbian Literature? posted 30 responses to the questions: 1. How do you identify yourself in the world? 2. How would you define Lesbian Literature? 3. What have your experiences been like with Lesbian Literature, and how have you experienced it throughout your personal or formal education? If you have never experienced Lesbian Literature why do you think that is?

Women and Words was been hosting the 12-Day Holiday Hootenanny, 2012, with tons of book giveaways! Check back every day!

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emily m danforth‘s The Miseducation of Cameron Post has been announced as a 2013 Morris Award Finalist.

Sarah Diemer posted

Eloise Klein Healy has been selected as LA’s first poet laureate and was interviewed at Lambda Literary.

Annameekee Hesik was interviewed at I’m Here. I’m Queer. What the Hell Do I Read?

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Malinda Lo posted My favorite YA sci-fi and fantasy novels of 2012 and My Top 10 Blog Posts of 2012.

Sarah Terez Rosenblum, author of Herself When She’s Missing, was interviewed at Curve Mag.

Laurie Salzler was interviewed at Women and Words.

Rebekah Weatherspoon posted Lots of news! Events! Awards! News! News! News!

Jeanette Winterson was written about at The Arts Desk.

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“‘Reading Queer Series’ To Promote Miami as a Center for LGBTQ Literature” was posted by Neil de la Flor.

“ANNOUNCEMENT: 1970s Gay & Lesbian YA Read-a-Long” was posted at Bonjour, Cass!

“Books: Last minute ideas for your gay bibliophile” was posted at GA Voice.

CoaltoDiamonds   CarrytheOne   ItsOurProm

Carry the One by Carol Anshaw was reviewed by Bonjour, Cass! as part of the Green Carnation Prize project.

The Book of Eleanor by Nat Burns was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Coal to Diamonds by Beth Ditto and Michelle Tea was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Julie Anne Peters’s books were recommended by Tori Munro on Youtube.

It’s Our Prom (So Deal With It) by Julie Anne Peters was reviewed at bookshelves of doom.

ParallelVisions   YouSetMeOnFire   BrokenLikeThis

Parallel Visions by Cheryl Rainfield was reviewed by Casey the Canadian Lesbrarian.

First Grass Spring Fire by Rae Spoon (a queer/trans novel/memoir) was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

(You) Set Me on Fire by Mariko Tamaki was reviewed by Casey the Canadian Lesbrarian.

Broken Like This by Monica Trasandes was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Seminal Murder by Mary Vermillion was reviewed at The Rainbow Reader.

As always, there are lots more links at the Lesbrary’s twitter and facebook accounts!

Erica reviews Skim (words by Mariko Tamaki and drawings by Jillian Tamaki)

Skim

When the graphic novel Skim opens, its lesbian teen protagonist, Kimberly Keiko Cameron (aka Skim), has just broken her arm on her mother’s candelabra that she was using for her Wicca altar. The broken arm isn’t really an issue except when Skim tries to photograph her cast with her left hand or writing her name. Plus, it gets her out of physical education.

After the suicide of a local teen boy from another school, the students and faculty at Skim’s school become hyper-aware of the students’ happiness (or, rather, their potential to commit suicide). Multiple classmates and adults approach Skim in particular because she is a quiet, goth-esque teenager—supposedly a stereotype for at-risk youth. Everyone seems to be worried about her well being, except for Skim that is.

Told in part diary format, part inner monologue, the Tamaki cousins link snippets of Skim’s days and weeks, highlighting conversations with her best friend Lisa, her attempts at witchcraft, the girls at school and her curious relationship with her English teacher, Ms. Archer. Skim’s storyline also parallels Katie Matthew’s, the ex-girlfriend of John Reddear, through Skim’s observations and interactions with her.

The illustrations are done in black and white and mainly focus on the characters’ emotions. Skim’s diary pages can be anything from a half a page to a double page spread, coupling sparse illustrations with minimal text. Both angles of the story telling reinforce Skim’s character: when she speaks, it matters, and she is still a teenager with big, teenager feelings.

What I appreciated most about this graphic novel was its gentle portrayal of Skim. While various characters try to figure out what is going on with her—why she is quiet, upset or aloof, etc.—Skim is just being Skim, reserved, relatively free of drama, and experiencing her own kind of heartbreak. She is true to herself, and in doing so she has the capacity to hear someone else’s heartbreak— and that results in an unlikely but pleasant connection. Overall, a tender portrait of first loves, school friendships, and the importance of compassion.

[Check out Erica’s other writing at her website.]

Danika reviews Blue Magic by A. M. Dellamonica

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Blue Magic by A. M. Dellamonica is the sequel to Indigo Springs, which, in case you have forgotten, I lovedIndigo Springs was absolutely fascinating to me, and I really loved the slow emergence of Astrid’s back story and the explanation of vitagua (liquid magic). As soon as I finished it, I was eager to pick up the sequel, but it ended up not being exactly what I was expecting.

It reminds me, to make an odd comparison, of when I was a kid and first read the end of the fourth Harry Potter book. What was with all this Voldemort stuff? I wanted more Hogwarts shenanigans! More lighthearted boarding school adventures! What was with this sudden dark wizard politics? Of course, once I read the rest of the books, I realized that that’s the whole point of the series. It wasn’t sudden at all, it was exactly what had been building all along. But I was so used to the playfulness and small scale of the first few books that I balked at the larger picture. I had a similar experience reading Blue Magic right after Indigo Springs.

Just like the Harry Potter series, I can see in hindsight that of course Blue Magic would have a much larger scale than the first book: Indigo Springs begins with vitagua already infecting the world, and Astrid’s story is just back story to explain how they got there! Still, haven been totally drawn into the dynamics of Astrid, Sahara, and Jacks, I was thrown by the giant cast of characters in Blue Magic. Although Will is the narrator of Indigo Springs, he doesn’t play a large role in the book, but he takes a more major role in the sequel. Along with Astrid and Will, there are two other characters that get their own points of view featured at different times. There are three different realms (the dream world, “fairyland”, and our world), four major factions (Sahara’s, Astrid’s, Fyremen, and the government) the  and tons of minor characters and subplots.

Astrid’s major love interests in this book are male, and to show a bias I’m sure you’ll be shocked by, I was therefore less interested (though there is another lesbian main character). There is a trans character in this book, however (whose representation I was iffy about in the first book, but more comfortable with here), and First Nations characters, though I’m not sure how I feel about their representation. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of acknowledgment of different Nations of people, and I can’t help but feel that having most of the Native characters be half-animal is not ideal, though it does make sense in context. I really am not sure about using First Nations people to advance the plot of the series without really having any be main characters… I feel like I would have to discuss this with someone to sort it out.

Mostly, though, I was just thrown by the sheer amount packed into this book. I feel like this could have easily been three books instead of two, though I do appreciate not padding the series. There are so many characters, so many different settings, so many subplots and chantments that I was a little overwhelmed. I missed the more personal interactions from the first book, and Astrid’s slow re-discovery of knowledge about vitagua. This isn’t a bad book, it’s just a very ambitious one. And I don’t think it failed, I just personally didn’t respond to it as well as I did the first book in the series. I am determined to re-read it at a later date, though, because I’m sure that just like Harry Potter, I will be much more willing to dive in to the bigger picture the second time around.

Katie Raynes reviews Fairy Tales for Princesses Who Love Dames by Rene von Bonaparte

Fairy Tales for Princesses Who Love Dames by Rene von Bonaparte is a collection of classic fairy tales retold in a modern setting with lesbians as the main couples. It includes adaptations of “The Princess and the Pea,” “Swan Lake,” “Cinderella,” “Beauty and the Beast,” “Sleeping Beauty,” and “The Frog Prince”.

The stories are set in the modern world, but the language of each one retains the “once upon a time” lyricism of classic fairy tales. I found this method of using old-fashioned language to describe modern things and concepts (such as cell phones and rock stars) charming. Each heroine met and wooed the girl of her dreams, and I appreciated that attention was not drawn to the characters’ sexual or romantic orientation as if it needed some sort of explanation. While I think stories in which a character’s status as a gender or sexual minority is discussed are very important, I also long for stories in which nobody blinks an eye when a girl kisses another girl. These were those kind of stories.

I did have some problems with this collection, though. It really could have used a more thorough editing–I was thrown out of the story countless times by misspellings, misused words, and incorrect punctuation. More importantly, I was disturbed by the standards of beauty these stories upheld. White skin was consistently used as an indicator of beauty–I felt I was supposed to understand that the heroines or their objects of affection were beautiful simply because of how white their skin was. There were women of color, but they were always the “exotic other,” the object to be obtained or saved, rather than the central character who did the saving. I really feel it’s important to avoid using language that supports white skin as the default and brown skin as something that sets a character apart. Also, while the heroines did have a variety of body types, one of the evil stepsisters in the Cinderella story was described as fat and the narration used a lot of negative fat talk (comparing her to a pig, etc.) to illustrate how ugly she was. These undertones all made me very uncomfortable.

Marcia reviews The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap by Paulette Mahurin

ThePersecutionofMildredDunlap

Set in rural Nevada in the mid-1800s in a town that reminded me of childhood marathons of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman – where every townsperson is a character worth knowing and a lot of the population are simply, unequivocally good or evil when it comes to the protagonist and the issue of the week – The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap by Paulette Mahurin is the story of a woman affected by news of Oscar Wilde’s imprisonment for homesexuality. The Wilde case has little to do with the plot other than providing an entry point into Mildred’s story and some nice chapter headings that I hope the Wilde estate is receiving proper credit for.

Mildred has been “persecuted” all her life – for her looks, her refusal to participate in traditional feminine activities (consisting of mostly gossip – the novel, despite being about women and featuring a lesbian relationship actually has a spiteful anti-woman tone). She is known for philanthropy, but the angry ranting of one particular woman (who has one of the most bizarre and thinly-constructed motives I’ve ever come across) has soured the entire town on Mildred, making her a case for ridicule at best and spiteful rumors at worst. Mildred is in a long-term relationship with her cousin Edra. The two have been inseperable since childhood and the relationship was cemented after Edra’s traumatizing rape – leaving the two in eternal hiding from society, leaving Edra childlike and caught in a cycle of reliving the rape, leaving them even more separated from the town.

The news of Wilde’s imprisonment urges Mildred to take action against any rumors which might point the ruthless townspeople to her homosexuality. She concocts a plan that involves a recent widower and – of course – the plan backfires to tremendous effect.

Is this a story that should be told? Absolutely. However, where Mahurin states in the introduction that much of the novel was prepared as part of a creative writing workshop, the story suddenly seems familiar. How many times did we sit, our pens poised as awkward and lifeless prose were discussed, the teacher urging once again that the fledgling author Show and Not Tell.

No author wants to hear those words applied to their work. Even fewer, perhaps, actually take that criticism and give their poem, short story, or historical novel the working over it really needs.

As the characters navigate this plan and the rumor-laden Red River Pass, they pass the time by spouting off historical and literary facts like living Wikipedia entries (it seems like a good heads up that if the protagonist becomes bored with hearing the myriad minutiae then the audience is surely bored as well!). Chapters often start en media res, the author soon backpedals, explaining what and why just happened – encapsulating anywhere from hours to years of detailed and potentially interesting history with a few haphazard paragraphs. I apologize o the author if her writing group (which she thanks in the introduction) did not point out these issues – though a publisher would certainly have.

If Mildred Dunlap was told by another author with a less needlessly convoluted style, it might stand the chance of being a novel I could recommend. As it stands, Dunlap is an embarrassing addition to the genre of historical lesbian fiction.

 [This book has also been reviewed by Lena]

Alyssa reviews Dreaming of Her by Maggie Morton

DreamingofHer

Dreaming of Her by Maggie Morton is an erotic fiction novel with fantasy elements. The story revolves around two women: Isa, who blogs for a living and is on the outs with her last boyfriend, and Lilith, a “Dreammaker,” who lives in a different reality and whose job is to craft sex dreams for people on Earth. Lilith and Isa meet in Isa’s dreams, and though it’s forbidden on Lilith’s end, each falls for the other. Meanwhile, a monster connected to the Dreammakers’ world threatens Isa’s city. The plot runs through a series of sex scenes, developing as well as concluding through erotic content.

The plot of this novel is simple and easily resolved, and the inter-dimensional mechanics and world-setting are loose and vague. However, as this is erotic fiction first, I found this to be acceptable and it did not get in the way of my enjoyment of the book. The language is solid and polished, and in general, the characters are rounded enough for their purposes. My one problem I had while reading this novel was that there is a background character who is trans*, and for the two or three page duration of her presence, is not treated very respectfully. (Aspects of her appearance are insulted, and the characters gossip about the ways in which they can tell she’s trans*.)

I enjoyed the erotica in this novel. It is mostly woman-on-woman, although as a caveat, a couple cisgender men appear in sexual contexts, especially towards the beginning. There is also some light BDSM content.

I enjoyed reading Dreaming of Her and would recommend it if you’re looking for lesbian erotica.

[*Editors note: the author has contacted me (Danika) about this review and says “The character your reviewer mistook as trans was actually a drag queen. It’s a bummer that I didn’t make that clear enough in the novel – I may just not be very good at writing drag queen characters! Anyway, I would love it if you could add a correction to the review, because I really don’t want people not buying my book because of supposed transphobia in it.” and “I would NEVER write anything negative about a trans character unless the character speaking about the trans character was supposed to be a total dick.”]