Julie Thompson reviews Me and My Boi edited by Sacchi Green

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“Gender has no boundaries, and neither does lust.” — Sacchi Green, Introduction

Me and My Boi, edited by Sacchi Green, is a collection of twenty erotic encounters between those who, in addition to identifying as lesbian, also identify as bois, butches, masculine-of-center, or eschew gender labels altogether. These individuals seek out sexual romps and emotionally charged situations. Sometimes they satisfy existing desires or discover new ones when paired with the right partner at the right time. The diversity of experiences showcased in this volume allow for a greater possibility of connection with readers. That being said, not every story will resonate with every reader; we all have personal preferences that will find a home in (hopefully) at least one or two of the stories presented here.

The stories unfold against quotidian and risqué situations, well-worn paths and the unknown. Readers peer in on a car garage in the English countryside as two women get acquainted (“A Fresh Start” by Melissa Mayhew); join long-term partners on their Parisian honeymoon (“Gargoyle Lovers” by Sacchi Green); and get locked into a bar bathroom with a bittersweet memory (“Hot Pants” by Jen Cross). The characters negotiate intimacy dynamics and grapple with what their choices may or may not communicate about their identities (“Nisrine Inside” by Pavini Moray; “Resurrection” by Victoria Villasenor).

While I enjoyed the collection overall, there were a few stories suited to my personal taste and that I look forward to revisiting. Strong women who are handy with a tool, sport grease smudged jeans, and possess a subtle tenderness, are the characters that melt me to the page. In Sommer Marsden’s Bennie, Ava finds her long held desires reciprocated with the handsome butch-next-door, Bennie. I appreciate how Me and My Boi (M&MB) shares a range of sexual desires, which include needs for hard and soft; fast and slow; bound and free; and more. For people who want to flirt with danger, M&MBhas it. For people who want a safer, yet no less lusty fling, they’ll find it here. I admit that I struggled with the first half of “Resurrection” because I wasn’t sure how much was consensual seduction and how much was coercion. I know that as a reader I engage with stories through my own lenses. I’m interested in how other readers interpreted that portion of the story.

Other stories engaged me more on an emotional level than on an erotic one. One such story  is “Not Just Hair” by Annabeth Leong. Darla is eager to find a butch that will allow her to act out her desires as a femme top. The usual kink crowd gathers around scenes of controlled lust or cruise for playmates. Observing and participating femmes, butches, tops, and bottoms assess each other for possibilities and compatibility. Darla struggles against the restrictions imposed on her as a femme, by her partners, and by the group. When she thinks she’s spotted an unfamiliar butch, she eagerly approaches, only to find that it’s someone she knows. Shawn, at heart a butch bottom, is also breaking out of the stifling role as a femme bottom that her partner had expected. The two women see each other and embrace the opportunity to be who they are inside and out.

The stories offer reflections of how we see ourselves and how we see others, as well as how we believe others should think of us and of themselves. It’s a mouthful and a mindful to process. Yet, more often than not, erotica at its best is a delectable mixture of physical, intellectual, emotional elements.

Elinor reviews Best Lesbian Erotica 20th Anniversary Edition edited by Sacchi Green

Best Lesbian Erotica 20th Anniversary Edition, edited by Sacchi Green, delivers seventeen creative stories with all the heat you’ve come to expect from the series. It offers everything from a pro Domme feeling more than expected for a hot female client (“A Professional,”) to tryst with a hitchhiker (“Dust”) to werewolf sex (“Hot Blood”). A cop and a jewel thief get it on in a moving subway car in “The Further Adventures of Miss Scarlet.” Doppelgangers switch roles again and again in “Mirror, Mirror.” In “Luscious and Wild,” a kinky young couple enjoys a weekend in a hotel room. A troupe of drag kings pull an audience member on stage for flirtatious attention and she surprises them all with her response in “Easy.”

This edition had a surprising number of musician-themed stories, so if you’re longing for lesbian musician erotica, you should definitely pick this up. Girls form a band, and fall into bed with each other, in Liverpool in the 1960s in “Ascension.” An aging rockstar has a secret, kink-filled relationship with an emerging star and tour mate in “Reunion Tour.” In “Give and Take,” a former up-and-coming musician turned venue tech has a one-night stand with a younger up-and-comer.

In addition to “Ascension,” this anthology has a few other stories set in the past. “The Royalty Underground” shows two young British women meeting and having sex in a crowded tube station-turned-shelter during a World War II air raid. In “Grindhouse,” a burlesque dancer in 1950s New York dabbles in kinky female-only films and gets exactly what she wants from her co-star after the cameras stop rolling.

My favorite story was probably “Tomato Bondage.” In this, the only story about long-term partners, a pair of farmers–and switches–get creative with outdoor bondage. I appreciated the practicality of these inventive heroines, and that the sex in the story seemed to benefit as much from the couple’s bond as from their originality. I also really liked “Make Them Shine,” in which a fat femme dominant gets her boots shined, and more, by a genderqueer sub. The descriptions in this story were rich and evocative, and I loved the narrator.

There were a few stories that weren’t my cup of tea, though they might be yours. In fairness, I’m in the first trimester of pregnancy right now (yay!) and I know my distaste for “Smorgasbord,” in which a food artist and a food writer indulge in a sexual and artistic food-filled romp, was due in part to the all-day morning sickness I’ve been experiencing for weeks. Descriptions of all sorts of culinary delights smeared on somebody’s body are a lot less appealing after weeks of unrelenting queasiness and I couldn’t judge this story fairly. I’ve also been hormonally emotional, and the grief of “Tears from Heaven’s” narrator over her recently deceased dog, lost due to absentmindness on the part of her younger lover, made it more weepy than erotic for me. Similarly, the infidelity-themed “The Road to Hell,” which begins and ends with the narrator lying to her partner of two decades, bummed me out tremendously. All of these are perfectly fine stories if they sound appealing to you.

My only real complaint is that I would have liked more diversity in this anthology. Only two stories appeared to explicitly feature people of color, no one seemed to have a disability of any kind, and nearly all of the stories were about sex with new partners. I especially like erotica that features long-term couples who still have a sex life along with a domestic one and there wasn’t much of that here. That’s my bias and I know not everyone is looking for that.

There were a lot of interesting scenarios, though. There was plenty of hot sex ranging from vanilla to kinky, many different voices and styles, and many sexy characters. I highly recommend it.

Elinor reviews Best Lesbian Erotica 2015 edited by Laura Antoniou

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Some of the stories in Best Lesbian Erotica 2015 are among the best erotic writing I’ve read. Whether or not you’re a big erotica fan, there are stories in this anthology that so well written that they warrant a read because of how well they show nuanced lesbian relationships. Some of these authors took big swings and came up with exciting, original tales. Stories like, “The Last Last Time,” “Second Date,” and “Behrouz Gets Lucky” show us a diverse cast of queer people dating and falling in and out of love in ways that feel true and meaningful, as well as offering some hot sex. “Andro Angel” gives us a sexy, anonymous threesome, while in “A Knock at the Door” the two women write erotica together via email, imagining the encounter that they’ve yet to have. Because of the skill of these writers, even stories I would not have chosen based on their description turned out to be gems, particularly Tina Horn’s “Wet Dirt.” In another example, I found the love interest in “Learning to Cook” incredibly unappealing but the story so good that by the end I’d lost all my resistance.

This collection takes us to other times and places too. “Lovely Lady Liberty” is a delightful romp in the middle of World War II. “Arachne” reimagines a Greek myth as erotica with surprisingly great results. “The Bullwhip and the Bull Rider” seems like it’s from another time, though it’s not explicitly, and it actually made the rodeo sound sexy–a compliment that should be taken seriously since I grew up in small-town Idaho and the memory of rodeos, with their hay-and-manure smells, still makes my nose twitch.

There’s a wide range of characters and sexual expression in this book. There’s plenty of kinky and vanilla adventures alike, and characters of many races, gender presentations, and different ages. With authors like Sacchi Green, Xan West, Miel Rose, BD Swain and many, many others, there is a ton to savor in this collection.

That being said, this anthology felt uneven. Rarely will anyone like every story in an anthology, but the high quality writing in the best pieces made the less polished stories a let down. Some, like “Late Show,” tried to pack in way too much relationship angst and sudden commitment in a short erotica piece. “Girlz in the Mist,” on the other hand, presented an intriguing premise but the sex scene read like a blase recitation of acts without desire or pleasure, with a narrator who is “tolerating her own violation.” Despite an interesting set up at an all-female bath house, ultimately it reminded me of the bland girl-on-girl erotica you find written for a male audience. Worse was “Kristie’s Game,” in which a rough consensual hook up between strangers turns disturbing when one woman physically overpowers the other and threatens to penetrate her while the physically weaker woman says “no” repeatedly. The reader is told she’s afraid, but the sex scene doesn’t stop and in the end we’re told this behavior is a habit for the stronger woman. I felt incredibly frustrated because this story could have been consensual with a brief conversation early in the hookup to determine safe words, providing a clear line between playing with power and actual fear of rape. There was no need to include the threat of rape, which it should go without saying I do not expect from the erotica I read. This story also had a notable spelling mistake and a few very clunky phrases, giving the impression that it had not been edited.

I do recommend this book, but please skip “Kristie’s Game.” It’s unfortunate that this is included in an otherwise great, if not flawless, erotica anthology.

Elinor reviews Best Lesbian Romance of the Year: Volume One edited by Radclyffe

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I am so happy I read this anthology. The introduction starts with an Audre Lorde quote, which is the right way to kick off a book. The stories ran the gamut from meeting cute to the culmination of decades of longing. Every story ended happily, those happy endings felt genuine and deserved, and drama and angst never overwhelmed any of the love stories. Romance can be hard to condense into a short story, but editor Radclyffe curated a solid collection of 18 tales. This book includes stories from established writers like Sacchi Green, Rebekah Weatherspoon, and Giselle Renarde, among many others.

There’s plenty of sex in this anthology, a lot of which rivals some erotica anthologies in terms of heat. I was delighted by this. The sex scenes seemed largely organic to the relationships in these stories and were an extension of the romance. Not every story included sex, and some of my favorite stories involved little more than kissing, a testament to the great writing in this book.

I was glad that this collection had so many stories of long-term couples. This included a couple of more than a decade trying to beat the heat by getting out of their old and AC-less house (and having hot sex) in “Cooling Down, Heating Up.” In “Little Bit of Ivory,” a couple reconnects after one woman has been traveling for work. “A Royal Engagement” offered up a lesbian member of the British royalty and gave her a charming engagement story, while “Going to the Chapel” features a couple bringing out the best in each other, even in absurd circumstances, on the way to their own wedding. “Gargoyle Lovers” rounds out the wedding theme with a sexy Parisian honeymoon. “Wiggle-Wiggle-Womp” comes with a cute twist. “Beautiful” features a kinky narrator and her partner returning to their local BDSM scene after a battle with cancer has transformed the narrator’s body. I loved the way “Beautiful” showcased the tenderness and freedom submission can bring, all while rejecting normative ideals about bodies and beauty. My absolute favorite story in this collection was Rebekah Weatherspoon’s “Forever Yours, Eileen,” about Eileen and June, lifelong friends over the age of sixty who are finally exploring the relationship they’ve both wanted, and waited for, for years. June and Eileen were friends as children in the South, separated when June’s family moved north in fear of 1950s racial violence. Their love bloomed in letters and brief visits even as they married men, raised children, and built typical-looking lives. Now both single, Eileen is meeting June in New York. This one made me cry in a good way.

There were also plenty of couples starting new relationships, too. Radclyffe’s lovely story “Bad Girls and Sweet Kisses” reminded me of being eighteen and in love for the first time. A stuck light bulb sparks new feelings about a helpful friend in “Light.” Camping sounds a lot more fun in “Waterfall” (even though there’s a concussion in this story). You get to indulge your barista-crush in “Red Velvet Cake.” An out-of-character nude modeling gig leads to self-discovery and romance in “Some Nudity Required.” Grumpy teenagers find love with some help from a hippie in “Love Dance.” An ex shows growth in “Dance Fever,” and an assistant gets to see a softer side of her sexy, ice queen boss in “Unexpected Bliss.” “Long Drive” is unique and charming because it focuses on a couple who have been conducting their relationship via phones and Internet after meeting online, and are meeting in person for the first time. Though a few of these new couple love stories seemed to progress their relationships quite fast, it didn’t seem all that unrealistic.

The only story I didn’t really like was “Like a Breath of Ocean Blue,” about a woman crushing on her coworker by the sea. It was just too overwritten for me and the love interest didn’t read like an authentic person. One lackluster story in a collection of eighteen is not bad though.

I was very happy that there was some diversity in gender presentation in this book, and people of different sizes and ages. I wanted more racial diversity, though. With a few exceptions, like “Going to the Chapel” and “Forever Yours, Eileen,” there were a lot of white people in this book. This might just be me, but I also wished Best Lesbian Romance of the Year: Volume One had included a story about lesbians raising kids or on the road to parenthood.

Quibbles aside, this is an excellent anthology of lesbian romance. If you’re at all interested in the genre, you should read this. Highly recommended.

Danika reviews Long Hidden: Speculative Fiction from the Margins of History edited by Rose Fox and Daniel José Older

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Long Hidden is an anthology of stories that take place between the 1400s and early 1900s, include some element of speculative fiction (mostly fantasy, some horror, a little sci fi), and are about marginalized people. This is not an all-lesbian collection, as you probably guessed, but it does include at least two lesbian stories (at least one may be subtextually lesbian), as well as two trans women stories.

I was very excited to read this book. I think it’s a collection that is far overdue, and I hope that there will be many more like it. I felt like it was a little slow to start out with, and personally enjoyed the later stories more than the beginning few, but overall it lived up to my expectations. The collection as a whole is dark, especially the first quarter or so of the book, which seemed to have every story revolve around death. I loved the different takes on “speculative fiction” covered in the stories. One of my favourite stories, Each Part Without Mercy by Meg Jayanth, dealt with people who can walk between dreams, and other people (like the main character) who can construct dreams stable enough to support these dreamwalkers. This concept was so interesting, I felt like it could be a whole novel. It made me curious to seek out the author’s other work, which is one my favourite things about anthologies. They can lead you to all sorts of new authors.

Long Hidden is also illustrated, with each story having a different style of illustration accompanying it. I loved this aspect, and though the illustrations complemented the story beautifully. (Also, that cover is gorgeous.) Take this illustration of the story “Jooni”, for example.

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Isn’t that an intriguing image to preface a story? Having the two combined makes it all the more memorable. Skimming through this collection to see my notes, I realize how much these stories stayed with me. They have such atmosphere to them, it makes them difficult to forget. On reflection, I think this is a book I would like to return to and re-read. It’s unfortunate that my least favourite stories were in the beginning, because I think they distracted me from noticing how much I enjoyed the anthology as a whole. (Not that the first stories aren’t skilled; they just weren’t as interesting to me personally.)

I did have some complaints, however. I didn’t realize before reading Long Hidden that all of the stories took place between the 1400s and 1900s. I was disappointed to not have any stories that stretch further back, though I’m hoping that another collection will do that. I was also a little disappointed about the diversity of settings. Although all the characters are marginalized, and almost all of them are people of colour, the settings are disproportionately either in North America (usually the U.S.) or Europe. North American stories took up nearly half the book, and put together, stories taking place in North America or Europe were two thirds of the stories included. Three take place in Africa, four in Asia, one in the Ottoman Empire, and one in Central America (none in South America). That isn’t to say that the stories of marginalized people in North America and Europe aren’t important, but I was hoping for more diversity there.

Now onto the lesbian stories!

“Marigolds” by L. S. Johnson is set 1774 Paris, and is about women in… essentially a brothel. Men seek out these women while they are menstruating, because they believe the women’s blood will give them power. But Mémé, the women who runs the brothel, is attempting to harness this power for political purposes–attempting to spark a revolution. Claire, the main character, is in love with one of the other women, Isabella. Claire is unsatisfied with her life in the brothel, suspicious of Mémé and what she’s willing to sacrifice to gain power, and is prepared to risk everything to be with Isabella. This was a great story, with interesting magical elements, and a solid plot. If you’re on the fence about picking this up based on how few lesbian stories there are, I’d say the quality makes up for it.

“Nine” by Kima Jones is set in 1902 Arizona, and features Tanner, a black lesbian, who runs a hotel with two other women, Jessie and Flo. They have an idyllic, though busy, life considering the time period, but for one issue. Tanner’s ex-girlfriend is extremely powerful, and has a vendetta against Tanner. Which means that her and everyone she loves are cursed. Oh, and Tanner’s ex keeps sending people to kill her and her family. The characters in this story are so believable and rich, it feels like you’ve known them for ages. This isn’t a happy story, but the characters are resilient, which leaves some room for hope. Definitely enjoyable.

So, although in some ways I wish Long Hidden was even more diverse, it’s still far beyond the uniformity seen in most anthologies. I really hope that there will be even more in this style, because this is a beautiful book, and one I would recommend to anyone. I’ll leave you with my favourite illustration (which happens to be from one of the lesbian subtext stories).

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Laura reviews Sister Spit edited by Michelle Tea

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In the introduction to Sister Spit: Writing, Rants & Reminiscence from the Road, editor Michelle Tea proudly writes that Sister Spit is what she did instead of college. Reading this collection is like digging through a pile of her study group’s crumpled looseleaf notes at the end of the semester. It’s enough to get the gist of the lesbian-feminist-trans-vegan-poet-artist-addict-activist-adventurer curriculum, but by no means will you gain any mastery of it. You’ll just wish you’d enrolled in the classes, then lie awake at night questioning every major life decision you’ve ever made. In a good way. Really.

Sister Spit was formed in 1994, when Tea and Sini Anderson created a girls-only open mic night to get away from the Bukowski-worshipping bros dominating the San Francisco literary scene. Their show ran every Sunday for two straight years before they picked it up and hit the road. Together, Tea and Anderson led a roving band of queer poets and storytellers across the country in couple ramshackle rental vans, stopping in a new city every night to give live performances.

“Most Sister Spit shows are about class,” writes Tea. “About class and being female, or about class and not being female, about being trans, a faggot. There is feminism in everything, a punkness too.” The same gut feeling is also true for the works contained in Sister Spit (the book), and it is a pleasure to read.

Covering 15 years of Sister Spit’s best work, this anthology shows incredible range. The collection starts off strong from the very first piece: “Star,” a violent, bitchy, improper, fabulous poem by Samuel Topiary. A little further in, I loved “Training for Goddesses,” in which the hilarious Kat Marie Yoas describes her experiences at a dominatrix training camp. And “Real Paper Letter” by Tamara Llosa-Sandor was funny and wonderful in a gentler, contemplative sort of way.

My favorite piece of writing in Sister Spit is “High Five for Ram Dass” by Harry Dodge. Consider:

Chuck Mangione, Late Zeppelin and a Streisand are stuffed under the bleachers in a throbbing gyroscopic heap. Late Zeppelin’s head is banging into the aluminum bench at a pace that makes me feel like doing “The Bus Stop.” I watch them for a long minute and the crickets rev up their nighttime calypso. Buttes the color of ash and pumpkin ascend until mercifully, they eclipse the sun. A totally relaxing primal event. I feel looser. The air is soft, exactly the temperature of my skin and fragrant to boot. Orange blossoms. Tuna. Whimpers, screams, yells replace the metallic fuck-gonging and before long the trio emerges into the soft dark night smiling. Stumbling on loose hips.

Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s from a story about formerly feral children resynthesizing into contemporary culture.

Perhaps my least favorite segments in Sister Spit were the ones “from the road.” I found the constant name dropping to be distracting and annoying. Still, I loved reading the tales. I love knowing that these people — interesting, creative, inventive and resourceful as they are — existed and exist. I love that they’ve documented their stories and that I can access them whenever I want. And, okay, “Where Is My Soul?” with Cristy C. Road’s reflections from the road, equal parts inspirational and relatable, are pretty wonderful. “How do you do this?” she asks. “How do you grow so gracefully, achieving levels of confidence and success while maintaining your grit and spirit? Your anger and identity? How do I become Eileen Myles?” Oof. This. Or alternatively, how do I become Michelle Tea?

Sister Spit’s Spring 2013 literary tour begins in just a few short weeks! For a full list of tour stops, check out the City Lights website.

Danika reviews Persistence: All Ways Butch and Femme edited by Ivan Coyote and Zena Sharman

I’ve been a fan of Ivan Coyote for years, so I had high expectations for this collection. It absolutely delivered.

It’s hard to sum up Persistence other than using its own subtitle. It contains a huge array of different kind of butches and femmes (and a futch, and some switches, and…), embodied by many different genders and sexualities.

The writing it top-notch, and there are a lot of big names:  Ivan Coyote, Jewelle Gomez, S. Bear Bergman, Joan Nestle, Sinclair Sexsmith… The content ranges from academic essays to poem and short stories. Some are incredibly personal, and some are political declarations. I really appreciated the amount of essays that approached how race intersects with butch/femme, and a few that also address class.

If I could guarantee one thing, it’s that at least one entry in this collection will piss you off. There are opinions all over the spectrum in this collection, and there is a lot to be debated. For example: do butch and femme constitute each other, or can you be a butch without a femme and vice versa? Are femmes more privileged by having “passing privilege”, or are they invisibilized, or are people just not looking hard enough for femmes? Is the concept of “butch” too tied to whiteness to be used in an antiracist way? Can other sexualities and genders by butch or femme, or only lesbians? Where do butch and femme fit into the trans spectrum, or vice versa, or are they unconnected? It is the trans questions that are particularly divisive. But I think this range is the strength of the collection: it is a good attempt to encapsulate a broad-ranging community that is entirely in flux. And the voices are strong, so even the essays that were actively angering me were still compelling.

I definitely recommend Persistence, even (especially?) if you’re not butch or femme or know very little about butch and femme. It is an important part of the queer community as a whole today, and lesbian history as well. There are quite a few contributors that I will now be seeking out in a longer format.

Danika reviews Hellebore & Rue edited by JoSelle Vanderhooft and Catherine Lundoff

I’m going to be honest: the only thing I was really looking for in Hellebore & Rue: Tales of Queer Women and Magic was for it to live up to its cover. I mean, look at that cover! It’s definitely one of my  favourites.

The good news is, it does! It seems like every review of an anthology has a disclaimer that all anthologies have varying quality between stories, which is true, but Hellebore & Rue had a much, much higher standard of writing in the stories collected than I am used to in most anthologies. There was only one story where I felt the writing didn’t compare to the other stories, and it turns out that it is the first story published by that author, so that makes sense.

There are all kinds of “magic” the stories, from fabulism to whole fantasy worlds, but they all manage to establish their reality well in a short story.

I think this anthology will especially appeal to readers who are looking for “incidentally” queer stories.

Overall I highly recommend Hellebore & Rue, especially to reader who enjoy the fantasy genre. And since I noticed a higher standard for their stories than I’m used to, I’ll be keeping an eye on the editors (JoSelle Vanderhooft and Catherine Lundoff), as well as the publishing company (Lethe Press).

Allysse reviews Time Well Bent edited by Connie Wilkins

This anthology has a very interesting theme. It aims to retell some historical events with a twist: what if the major characters of those events hadn’t been straight?

As soon as I learned about this book I wanted to read it. I love History, short stories and obviously I love reading books with non major heterosexual characters. So that one was bound to be perfect. But it turned out not to be as much of an exciting read as it promised to be, at least not for me.

The problem was, a lot of the historical events portrayed in the book are minor ones, not always well known. It made the reading difficult at first as I was trying to guess where and when I was in time and couldn’t really enjoy the stories themselves. So after a while, I just stopped trying to guess and just enjoyed the stories as they were, forgetting all about the premise of this anthology and found I was enjoying the stories much more this way.

There are, at the end of every story, a little talk from the writers about their choice of historical events and explaining them a bit which was helpful to place the stories in time. But that was not enough for me to really enjoy the retelling. I preferred to think of the stories as not related to a real History when I didn’t know anything about the historical events behind the words.

Though, what I found to be a problem is not necessarily one. The range of events and places in the world covered by the stories is quite extensive, making room for a lot of different civilisations, which I think is a strength in itself. It only become a weakness if like me, you’ve been raised and taught about the Western world and not much else (and haven’t read much about the rest either).

The stories in themselves were all well written and quite enjoyable to read. The styles are varied and everyone can find a story to enjoy. The tones as well are always really different, for example I found “Sod‘Em” by Barry Lowe to be really funny, while “A Marriage of Choice” by Dale Chase was more dramatic and “Barbaric Splendor” by Simon Sheppard full of colours and sensations.

All in all I would recommend this anthology, but I would advise you to forget about your History lessons and just enjoy the stories without the real historical background in mind.

Maryam reviewed Reclaiming the L-Word: Sappho’s Daughters Out in Africa edited by Allyn Diesel

I just finished Reclaiming the L-Word: Sappho’s Daughters Out in Africa, edited by Allyn Diesel. It is a wonderful anthology of personal essays, poetry, and photographs, each African woman telling the tale of what it is to be queer in South Africa. They range from the heartwarming – Yulinda Noortman’s description of shopping for wedding fabric with her bride-to-be, in “The Dog, The Cat, The Parrot and the Pig and Other Tales” – to the heartwrenching: Keba Sebetoane’s “Who Are You to Tell Me What I Am?”, the brief, calamitous tale of her struggle with rape and the flawed system that kept her, and so many other women, from justice. My favorite was “I Have Truly Lost a Woman I Loved”, which features the wonderful photography of Zanele Muholi – one of her photographs graces this volume’s cover – and is a loving essay to her late mother. I only wished that some of the photographs she wrote about had been included in this book. Although some of the essays may begin in a similar fashion – I was married to a man, and then… or When I was a child…, there is something in the collection that everyone should be able to appreciate, and should serve as food for thought both in terms of social justice and how we relate to other women, no matter what their place in the queer spectrum.