Elinor reviews Best Lesbian Erotica 2015 edited by Laura Antoniou


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


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



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.


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).



Laura reviews Sister Spit edited by Michelle Tea


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.

Holly reviews Dear John, I Love Jane edited by Candace Walsh and Laura André

Dear John, I Love Jane: Women Write about Leaving Men for Women, edited by Candace Walsh and Laura André and published by Seal Press, is a collection of personal essays about women who discover they’re lesbian/ bi/ queer/ otherwise in love with a woman a little later in life. For some, this means coming out to their families and friends in their middle or old age. Others learn (or change) in their twenties and thirties, which may not seem that late but can feel as though it is.

I connected with some of these stories. For instance, having to leave the country to start getting it on sounds all too familiar, writing folksy songs for one’s honey is cute, and dreaming of Angelina Jolie’s lips might just be my favorite Sapphic rite of passage.

Other narratives I found annoying. Occasionally, the dialogue seemed stilted. A couple of the first girlfriends made me want to tell the respective writers “Don’t fuck that girl. Get her a therapist.” Plus, some of the coming-out-of-the-closet-y language made me uncomfortable. There is only so much of “I didn’t want to look like a dyke”-esque sentiment that I can stand without becoming defensive.

Nevertheless, I was so grateful to be let into these women’s lives. Fluid in topic and in form, their secrets transformed into whole stories, big tell-alls that were very comforting and sexy. (Yet, it was not so lush that I wouldn’t lend it to my friends and family.) Even as a fairly young and out queer, I found Dear John, I Love Jane accessible and cathartic. This is a book I plan to keep and reread over the years. I recommend it to anyone wanting to understand the sometimes hazy pop phrase “fluid sexuality.”

Laura Mandanas reviews Forbidden Passages

Forbidden Passages: Writings Banned in Canada is a book of essays, short stories, and excerpts of texts that have been seized and censored in Canada. The collection features a broad range of perspectives and does not shy away from any subject. (Due, unfortunately, to the fact that Canadian censors shy away from just about everything.) Readers who are weak of heart or stomach, consider yourself duly warned: on topics of transgressive sexuality, many of these works are unflinchingly graphic.

So do I recommend this book to you? Honestly, I’m not sure. If you read cover to cover, you will almost certainly encounter things that are not to your taste. When I got to “Spiral” by David Wojnarowicz (excerpted from Memories That Smell Like Gasoline), I started gagging and had to put the book down. It was, like… graphic, rape-y scenes between men and boys who weren’t even old enough to legally consent. Not my cup of tea.

On the other hand, there were also some real gems. I totally loved the excerpt “Mama” by Dorothy Allison, from her 1988 classic, Trash. In particular, I really appreciated the casual treatment of sexual orientation here; the main character’s lesbian identity wasn’t the be-all and end-all. Instead, the focus was on the main character’s relationship with her mother, whose wrinkled hands and gravy-thick accent practically leapt off the page — so skillfully did Allison bring them to life. It was sublime.

Another fine piece of writing: Kathy Acker’s “Dead: Carved Into Roses”, from Empire of the Senseless. Wow. The raw power of her imagery completely blew me away. Also: “Eating the Other: Desire and Resistance” by bell hooks, from Black Looks, Race and Representation. Fantastic. Though at times dry and academic, the otherwise frank and intelligent discussion of interracial attraction was spot on. Ooh, and can we talk about Pat Califia’s descriptive detail in “The Surprise Party” from Macho Slutsfor a minute? Excruciating. Whether that’s your scene or not… That, my friends, is how you write pornography. Oof.

For all the good bits, I’ve got to say, this still isn’t a book I’d casually suggest to friends. And if my little sister asked to borrow it, I’d probably conveniently misplace my copy for the entirety of the next decade. Really and truly, this is a book for mature readers who know what they’re getting into. But if that’s you? By all means, go for it. You may be surprised by what you end up liking.

– Laura

[Danika: I read this book recently as well, so I thought I’d chime in. There’s definitely a wide variety of writing in this collection. I had to put down the book at the same spot. I felt physically ill. And I have to admit, some of the academic writing went right over my head. I think the value in this collection is the context: these are all writings banned for similar reasons, as if they are all equivalent. Seeing the erotica, the violence, and the academic writings all side-by-side shows how ridiculous it is to treat them all as the same.]

Danika reviews Dear John, I Love Jane edited by Candace Walsh and Laura Andre

I love this book. I just want to say that straight off the bat. In any minority (of power) group, telling our own stories is crucial, especially when they’re stories that defy the narrative that has traditionally been put forth about that group.

The foreword of Dear John, I Love Jane is written by the author of Sexual Fluidity, which is a book I now really want to read. The only problems I had with the book in general were that the introduction and foreword combined seemed pretty lengthy, and the introduction especially seemed unnecessary.

Also, I was initially irritated because the  foreword set the tone for stories about sexual fluidity, which I was very excited about being able to read, because we have a very Born This Way, rigid conception of sexuality in our society, and I wanted to see the stories this framework ignores. When the first few stories didn’t really address sexual fluidity, I was disappointed, but by the end I was completely satisfied.

The major thing I loved about Dear John, I Love Jane was the quality of writing. With a topic this narrow, I didn’t have very high standards, especially since anthologies generally have a range of quality. Most anthologies tend to include at least one story that you really hate. This was not true! I actually didn’t have any story that I didn’t enjoy. They varied in styles, but I thought the quality of writing was high in each one.

What makes Dear John, I Love Jane so valuable, though, is the variety of the stories told. As I said, I was hoping for stories about sexual fluidity, and there were, but they weren’t the only ones. Dear John, I Love Jane represents many different situations where women left men for women. In some, it was because they had always been attracted to women and only were with a man because they felt it was the right thing to do. For others, though, they really were deeply in love with the man they were with. For some, it was one woman who changed everything, and had nothing to do with their sexuality, just with the individual. And some women decide to stay with their husband. It really represents a range, which I found refreshing.

I have a particular dislike for our dichotomy of choice vs born-that-way with sexuality. No other aspect of ourselves do we treat that way. Was I born sarcastic, or did I choose to be that way? Was I born loving books, or did I choose to be that way? It doesn’t make any sense. And it doesn’t with orientation, either. If sexuality is not a rigid, unchanging, biological, pre-destined thing, it doesn’t automatically make it a choice.

I also enjoyed the portrayal of men in the stories. Some of the partners are not ideal mates, but many are wonderful people, and it brings more nuance to it. I think that men in Dear John,  I Love Jane are primarily positively portrayed, which just makes those situations so much more difficult and interesting.

Overall, I highly recommend this book. I only keep books that I want to re-read at some point, and this is definitely one that’s going to go into my permanent collection.

(Check out the Dear John, I Love Jane website here!)

Guest Lesbrarian: allis

Hooray, a guest lesbrarian! We haven’t had one of those for a while. This review is from allis, and you can find her on Livejournal here. Thanks, allis!

Women of Mystery: An Anthology by Katherine V. Forrest

As the title let it guess, all those stories have female lead character, usually lesbian character, and all the stories involve some kind of mystery. They are indeed all intriguing in their own way and pull the reader in right from the start and doesn’t let it go until the very end. There is no way you can stop in the middle of a story. You have to know how it ends, you have to know who killed who, why all those secrets, is she really a werewolf, etc…

The opening lines are really great and make you plunge into the story from the very first words as you can see in those few examples :

“I started to suspect she was a werewolf on our first date” (“Let Sleeping Cats Lie” by Jeane Harris)

“I need you to solve a mystery for me” (“The Intersection of Camp and St. Mary” by J.M. Redmann)

“The first time you get kidnapped can ruin your evening.” (“Two Left Shoes” by Carole Spearin McCauley)

The authors have all very different interpretations for the word “mystery” and you are sure to be surprised by some of them. There are classic crime, fantasy story, ghost story, family story, funny story, etc… No story is like another. As a fan a diversity when I read an anthology, I really enjoyed that part of the book.

Though well written most of the stories didn’t stick with me. I had to return to the first lines to remember what the story was about. This anthology is a quick read, ideal when you have to wait somewhere, in the train, or just want to read a bit of mystery at night.

It was a nice easy read, but it definitely is not an anthology I’ll remember much. But maybe it’s just because I’m not that much into mystery stories in general…

There was really only one story I didn’t like much. It was “Violation” by Victoria A. Brownworth. It’s not that it was badly written but I just didn’t like the theme of it much. I thought it was a bit more serious, a bit darker than the other stories too.

My favourites are “Elsie Riley” by Martha Miller for its atmosphere and really open ending, “Let Sleeping Cats Lie” by Jeane Harris for all its surprises, “House Built of Sticks” by J.L. Belrose for the family drama seen through the eyes of a child who doesn‘t really get all that is happening, “The Intersection of Camp and St. Mary” by J.M. Redmann for its humour and “Murder on Chuckanut Drive” by Ouida Crozier for its main character and general atmosphere.

I would rate this anthology 7/10.

Have you read Women of Mystery or something like it? What did you think of it?

Danika reviews Queer View Mirror

Queer View Mirror is an anthology of 99 gay and lesbian short stories (short short stories, no more than a couple pages each) collected by James C. Johnstone and Karen X. Tulchinsky, and published by my very favourite publishing company (I am desperately wishing to one day work there), Arsenal Pulp Press.

Queer View Mirror attempts to include as much variety in its portrayal of gay/lesbian lives as possible. There are love stories, rape scenes (so, possibly triggering), and stories with no romance or sex at all. They mainly take place in North America, but there are a few that don’t. As with all anthologies, some I liked better than others, but overall I thought this was a great collection, mostly because of all the variety.

I was using a small sheet of paper to keep track of the authors of the lesbian/queer women stories that I enjoyed out of this collection, and I ended up with the paper crammed full of names. Unfortunately, few of them have books of their own, but that gives more credit to the editors for finding these awesome little-known authors.

Have you read Queer View Mirror or another queer anthology? What did you think of it?

The only lesbian anthology I’ve read and own is Daughters of Darkness: Lesbian Vampire Tales by Pam Keesey, which I quite liked, especially since I’m not usually very into vampire stories (other than Buffy, of course). Other anthologies I own are: Girls Next Door: Lesbian Feminist Stories edited by Jan Bradshaw & Mary Hemming, The Things That Divide Us edited by Faith Conlon, Lesbian Fiction: An Anthology edited by Elly Bulkin, Dykewords edited by The Lesbian Writing and Publishing Collective, Dykeversions: Lesbian Short Fiction edited by The Lesbian Writing and Publishing Collective, The Original Coming Out Stories edited by Julia Penelope & Susan J. Wolfe, Lesbian Bedtime Stories edited by Terry Woodrow, and Love Shook My Heart: New Lesbian Love Stories edited by Irene Zahava.

The anthologies I can get from the library: Queer View Mirror 2, Women of Mystery edited by Katherine V. Forrest, Two Friends: and Other Nineteenth-Century Lesbian Stories by American Women Writers edited by Susan Koppelman, Women On Women and Women on Women 2 edited by Nestle, and Baby Remember My Name edited by Michelle Tea.

Also, I just finished a great book that’s only slightly related to this blog: Nobody’s Mother. It’s a collection of essays about women who don’t have children and don’t plan to. Only one (I think) was written by a lesbian, but they’re definitely a great read if you don’t think motherhood is for you, or if you can’t have kids.

Kicked Out edited by Sassafras Lowrey

I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to get the first review up, but don’t worry: it’s a good one.

Kicked Out is an anthology of LGBTQ homeless youth. Somewhere between 20-40% of homeless identify as LGBTQ, which is a staggering number. Kicked Out was created to tell these stories, and to prove to those LGBTQ kids still struggling that they’re not alone, and that they can survive. Kicked Out tells these survivors’ stories in their own voices. One is entirely in text messages (translated afterward) and another begins with their own poetry. The stories are raw and emotional, and they’re told extremely well. Kicked Out also includes stories of programs that are helping LGBTQ homeless youth and an essay on what needs to be done to help change the system to protect these youth. The stories included in this anthology are accounts of some of the worst things human beings can do to each other, but they’re also stories of survival and endurance. This is an incredibly important book, and it’s compelling as well.

Highly recommended.