Megan G reviews Pulp by Robin Talley

Pulp by Robin Talley cover

Janet Jones and Abby Zimet are two lesbian teens living in Washington DC, separated by sixty-two years. In 1955, Janet discovers lesbian pulp fiction and finds herself truly represented for the first time in her life. In 2017, Abby decides to complete her senior project on lesbian pulp fiction, becoming obsessed with one particular author: Marian Love.

This is the second Robin Talley novel I’ve read in a short period of time, and to be perfectly frank I think I am falling in love. Her writing pulls me in from the moment I open the book and has me wanting to keep turning pages deep into the night, even when I know I will regret it in the morning. Her characters are real and independent, always having unique and powerful voices.

In Pulp, Talley does a magnificent job of contrasting the difference in the lives of two lesbian teenagers living in the same city only sixty-two years apart. While Janet struggles with the constant threat of being discovered (which would effectively ruin her life as she would lose her place in college, her job, and would be cut off completely from her family), Abby struggles with an ex-girlfriend who doesn’t seem to want to get back together as much as Abby does, and her parents’ inescapable divorce.

I will be honest – at some points in the novel, I felt frustrated with Abby because of this. Janet’s problems felt so much more real and life-altering, whereas Abby continually made poor decisions because of something that most likely over 50% of the population experiences. Talley deals with Abby’s parents failing marriage and the threat of Janet’s homosexuality being exposed with similar weight, which I felt was wasn’t completely fair. Yes, the point is that even though Abby doesn’t have to deal with as much oppression regarding her being a lesbian she still has problems, but those problems feel trivial when compared to Janet’s experiences.

Still, despite my frustrations with this comparison, I did appreciate that Talley allowed Abby to be a flawed human being. She doesn’t make perfect decisions (and she often doesn’t even make good decisions), but she grows from her mistakes, she learns from her failings, and by the end of the novel it is more than clear that she is headed down a good path.

The only other thing I was a little iffy about is that, in having Abby and Janet’s stories run concurrently, there was often a fair bit of repetition. [minor spoiler] It’s clear that Janet is Marian Love, the author that Abby becomes obsessed with. Often chapters told from Janet’s perspective mirror whatever Abby has just learned about her in the present, which can feel a bit redundant [end spoiler].

Overall, I found this book to be engaging and thought-provoking. Seeing the way lesbians were treated back in the 1950’s is horrendous, but also incredibly important. Getting to contrast that with the life of a modern lesbian, who came out at fourteen and is part of a friend group where everybody is queer, feels even more important. The message of this book is clear, and vital: don’t forget where we came from, and especially don’t forget who fought for all the rights we have in the present. Some of us younger queer people (myself included) often forget how things were, and how they still are in some parts of the world. We never, never should, and this book illustrates that perfectly.

WARNINGS: homophobia, internalized homophobia, sexism, misogyny, compulsory heterosexuality, heterosexism

Quinn Jean reviews The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee

The Lady's Guide Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee cover

[Warning: this review contains plot spoilers and discussions of violence and bigotry depicted in the novel; namely major characters experience misogyny, racism and homophobia in 18th century European and North African settings. Also this book is a sequel to Lee’s The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue so beware default spoilers for that book too].

The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy is the treat it is due to the three main women at the centre of the novel. Felicity Montague is a well-travelled young white noblewoman in 18th century England who is in exile from her wealthy family and desperately trying to find a school or mentor who will let her train to be a doctor. Of course her gender precludes her admittance to anywhere in the country, or even Europe, despite the fact that Felicity is fiercely committed, highly intelligent, and hardworking. She is led to team up with Sim, a mysterious young black sailor travelling with mutual friends who offers to help Felicity pursue a promising opportunity that’s in continental Europe. Sim has the tenacity to match Felicity’s and both women acknowledge and appreciate the other’s intelligence and individuality. Rounding out the trio is Felicity’s childhood friend, Johanna, a fellow white European noblewoman who loves feminine fashions and frippery as much as studying natural sciences, though her family values her only as someone to marry off. All three of these women exemplify strength, cunning, kindness, creativity and intelligence, and their burgeoning respect for each other, and subsequent friendships, are nuanced and gorgeous.

Sim is a black Muslim woman from Algiers who identifies as attracted to women while Felicity decides she doesn’t like romance with anybody, though she loves her friends passionately. Both women, but particularly the former, are important and beautiful representations in a story set in a colonial 18th century world, and both the WLW and ace/aro themes are very sensitively portrayed. No one meets a grisly end due to their sexual orientation but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a lot of high stakes and adventure, and it’s refreshing that having the one doesn’t mean sacrificing the other. The heroines travel through no less than five or six countries in the course of the book, and have encounters with pirates, dragons, mercenaries, cannon blasts, and menstrual blood stains on ballgowns (surely more terrifying than anything else on that list). The novel consistently feels breathless and urgent while never rushing through plot points and the high stakes always feel legitimate when the women are fighting for what they want and need. The central bond between the three main characters is most of what grounds the action and provides deeper resonance than just a fun “swords-crossed, indignant damsel” sort of caper.

Petticoats is a great book because the women get to drive their own stories, both by being the focus of the book in the first place and because they take charge of their destinies within the narrative. It shouldn’t be groundbreaking that two of these women, at least, are also not straight and this side of their identities is included as an important part of their arcs, but it is. And Sim and several other characters of colour in the story, in addition to multiple disabled characters, are further very welcome evidence that period pieces have no excuse to be exclusively white, male, straight and abled when it is historically accurate and incredibly simple to include diversity. A sequel portraying more of Sim’s adventures on the high seas, with or without Felicity and Johanna, would be another stellar contribution to historical fiction about WLW.

Marthese reviews The Fletcher by K. Aten

The Fletcher by K Aten

‘’I have lived my life by the lead and the arrow and I respect the trees and the animals they shelter’’

I’ve been meaning to start another fantasy series and it seems like The Arrow of Artemis is going to be it. Set in a fantasy classical (Greek) world, this series follows Kyri on her journey as an Amazon! In the first heartbreaking chapter, we see Kyri leave her home and her sick father –with his blessings – to join Shana an Amazon she had rescued, in her home nation of Telequire, with some detours.

Kyri is a Fletcher, like her father and his father before him. Her arrows shoot true and had it not been for her leaving, she would have become a master Fletcher. But sexist laws in her region and her saving Shana lead her to leave to make a future and a new home.  Shana, her new Amazon-sister is always by her side, encouraging her. She makes friends and family along two Amazon nations.

Kyri is a great Fletcher and a great archer. She has lived all her life surrounded by trees and knows to read nature, which leads her to partake in many extraordinary feats … including acquiring a feline companion. Despite all this and all the people telling her how great she is and that surely Artemis is leading her, she doesn’t believe in herself. She pushes herself to be better, greater, stronger – so that she gets her Amazon feather and mask, fulfilling her promise to herself and her father.

There were some great characters in this short book (just under 200 pages). I loved the banter between many characters especially Kyri and Shana and Kyri-Shana-Coryn. I also loved that the author did not pair up Kyri with the first female (Shana) or even her first dalliance but rather allowed for Kyri to focus on herself and develop different bonds of family and friendship.

I loved Shana but now I am used to liking more secondary characters. Apart from the thieves and guards, there wasn’t a single character that I did not like in this book. Most characters, even the hard-headed ones were relatable. As Kyri and Shana reach the Telequire nation there was a slight shift between page-time with Kyri and Shana to page-time with Kyri and Ori, who is Kyri’s love interest and very important to the nation.

At first, the introduction sounded too simple and some of the language sounded too English but as I got into it, it was a truly classical experience of candle marks and rabbit furs. I also learned new things that were used in the ancient world and new survival tips thanks to this book.

This book is slow-burn, which I enjoyed. As someone on the ace spectrum I can never understand characters that get together so soon after meeting. Kyri is about to turn twenty and has no sexual experience. In the book there were Amazons that followed Artemis’ steps and it was not shameful.

Be aware that there is a lot of animal hunting in this book. I’m vegetarian but while it was sometimes graphic, I didn’t mind because it was for survival. There’s also killing in this book, but more for self-defence or protection of others. There was a great explanation about the ethics of killing people who hurt others; the killing was not done without conscious.

The Fletcher is very much the story of how Kyri got her Amazon feather and mask, but also it is the story of how she started to believe in herself and gained confidence. Kyri wanted to make it by herself and she does but her friends are there to help. The lack of a couple allowed Kyri to grow by herself first.

I recommend this book to historical fiction and fantasy lovers and those that especially love Amazons. I’d definitely keep up with this series.

Shira Glassman reviews “The Dresser and the Chambermaid” by Robin Talley

All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens throughout the Ages by Saundra Mitchell cover
I’ve been really lucky in my reading material these past few years. The blossoming of affordable queer lit on the indie book scene as eBooks and social media marketing transform how we find each other has validated my adolescent needs in the best of ways. However, once you’re finally fed, and your needs met, that’s when you notice that some of your more specific preferences are still eluding you.
That’s me with queer costume drama. Basically, thanks to a childhood drenched in the glorious excesses of operatic theater, I long for our presence in 17th and 18th century adventures. I want big skirts and glitter and palaces. But for some reason, probably thanks to Austen, Regency romance (early 19th century) completely dominates the world of historical/costume drama fiction whether the main characters be queer or not.
Frankly, I didn’t think I’d ever get my Baroque romance.
But then Robin Talley’s story, “The Dresser and the Chambermaid”, in the recently released queer YA historical anthology All Out, satisfied all my most specific, most picky, most “can I get this with a salad instead of fries?” needs all at once. I am so happy with this story, even though it’s only a short story. Let me number the reasons.
1. It takes place in the early 1700’s. As I said, we never get to play in this sandbox in our romantic reading, usually. Or any other reading, for that matter! I’ve searched on Goodreads and with few exceptions (like Escape to Pirate Island, another f/f fave rec of mine) the books set during this era tend to be about people coping with the current political situation instead of the chiefly personal ordeals that comprise much of escapist weekend reading.
This story, however, is not about that. This story is a Baroque-set story that yet manages to be about people dealing with their own lives, and not European royalty bashing each other over the heads with ideological and economic bludgeons. You know, like the eight hundred and fifty trillion Regencies! (Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the hell out of them and can rec a couple. BUT STILL.)
So what does that mean for the reader? It means you get: Baroque excess in terms of setting (glittering palaces, ballrooms filled with huge dresses you have to walk through the door sideways in, frou-frou wigs). This pleases me.
2. It stars working-class women! Yes, I know: a historical romance where BOTH leads work for a living? Amazing. Which means they are totally relatable even in this day and age, and plus, we should be supporting reading about regular people in general. Obviously I love a good princess, and this story has other cool royalty moments, too, but I like supporting this as well. It fits my values.
3. A historical romance between two women where the fact that they’re both women IS NOT PART OF THE PLOT CONFLICT AT ALL. For me, this is glorious. The plot conflict instead of is the bumpy road to better employment, and the possibility of professional jealousy. Now, it’s not set in some kind of alternate reality where Baroque England was magically Hip and With It. They’re just playing it secret and subdued like they would have if they were real. As do the other gay characters in the story, because:
4. The two leading ladies aren’t the only queer rep! There’s a gay man who’s one of the servants and he has a crush on one of the upperclass dudes, but that particular upper class dude is dating another upper class dude, and the little lesbian servant commiserates with him about it and it’s just so adorable and real and reminds me of the wlw row at my temple (yes, we have a row) and the way we all interact.
If I haven’t sold you yet, let me add that:
5. There is a ton of other f/f rep in this book from all over history and I enjoyed most of it. Dahlia Adler’s story “Molly’s Lips” is set just after Kurt Cobain died, and the girls are supporting each other through it. There is also ANOTHER Baroque-era story, this one set in colonial America involving two teenage girls who run away from their respective marriages (to dudes) to become lesbian pirates. I also loved the jazz-age one about the child actress who’s grownup now and not a movie star anymore, who meets a waitress who’s still star-struck by her even though she’s no longer a household name. And there’s great trans m/f rep as well but I’m not going to discuss that in this review for obvious reasons; I will eventually review the whole book though so stay tuned if you follow me on social media.
So: thank you, Robin Talley. I’m so glad this one little short story is a thing. To other writers: if you’re planning something like this, please keep me on your radar and let me know once it’s out!
Note to readers: because it’s from a major publisher, All Out is more likely to actually already be at your local library than some of the indie lit we usually discuss here. I am so happy for those of you who benefit from this because of parents or money that usually keep you from queer lit with happy endings.
Shira Glassman’s latest release, Cinnamon Blade: Knife in Shining Armor, is a high-heat f/f romance between a superheroine and the damsel-in-distress she keeps rescuing. She has written one Baroque romance of her own, “Gifts of Spring” in Queerly Loving Vol. 1, but it’s m/f starring a trans woman mage and a Jewish acrobat, not f/f, so be aware if you read exclusively f/f.

Julie Thompson reviews Across a Crowded Room by Jane Alden

Across a Crowded Room by Jane Alden cover

Across a Crowded Room, reminiscent of “The Price of Salt” by Patricia Highsmith, opens just before Christmas 1950 in New Canaan, Connecticut. Towards year’s end, Bennie Grant leaves an unhappy marriage for an unknown future. All she knows is that she can no longer be the society housewife her husband Will and his domineering mother, Olivia, want her to be. When the couple met during the heady rush of World War II, becoming engaged and married within a whirlwind span of a few months, Bennie hadn’t fully grasped her personal identity and needs.

The trajectory of Bennie’s journey symbolically marches through a harsh New England winter towards the liberating warmth and new growth of summer. Fall-out from her confession of a short-lived affair with her best friend Alice, which occurs before the novel begins, sets events in motion. Bennie soon takes on a short-term position at her alma mater as the drama teacher, while she works out divorce details and custody of their daughter, Livie. It seems like the perfect place to hole up, until she meets the school’s new board member, Laura Clayborn. They develop an easy rapport that plays out in carefully planned situations. Misunderstandings arise, however, and thrust Bennie still further out into unknown territory. As Bennie struggles to find her footing, she discovers queer community and possibilities in unlooked for places. Alden’s exploration of the duality of queer life at this time introduces both challenges and hopeful prospects.

Alden also ably depicts constrained freedoms and continued societal and legal restrictions facing women in this era. Bennie is an especially bold character, given the high stakes involving her daughter. One of the driving questions for Bennie is the impact of her decisions on her young daughter’s development and worldview. She agonizes over a conundrum familiar to women throughout time: can I be a good mom, and still pursue a career and personal fulfillment? Will and Olivia use the child as a pawn in various situations throughout, culminating in difficult choices for Bennie.

I’ll probably re-read this immersive novel in December, when I can curl up against the cold with my cats and space heater, imagining the holiday decor of my dad’s 1950’s childhood that graced the walls and trees of my own youth. Alden’s weaves in period details, simple as a cup of coffee or turn of phrase, that conjure images of bustling cityscapes, insulated small suburban life, and interconnected theatrical community. Readers keen on historical fiction set in this era will appreciate the author’s authentic voice and tone.

Quinn Jean reviews All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout The Ages edited by Saundra Mitchell

All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens throughout the Ages by Saundra Mitchell cover

[This review contains very vague spoilers (no specific plot points, though) and mentions of violence]

This exceptional short story collection, edited by Saundra Mitchell, is a sterling addition to WLW fiction. The vast majority of the seventeen stories included involve major WLW characters and without fail, every tale is breathtakingly beautiful. The historical settings range from a convent in medieval Spain, to small-town USA in the 1950s, right through to grunge-soaked Seattle in the early 1990s. Similarly, the young women included in the WLW stories vary greatly in their personalities, identities, dreams and loves. The one thing all the stories have in common is that none of the protagonists have unhappy endings. The book has successfully set out to show queer teenagers have always existed and thrived, even in the most adverse circumstances.

The heroism inherent in merely existing as a queer person is captured brilliantly in every story in All Out, with some of the stories including magic and fantasy to further heighten this theme. Leprechauns and witches–as well as peasant girls, waitresses and nuns–all show themselves to be strong, generous and brave when their circumstances would have them give up on life and love. Too often fictional portrayals of WLW in historical settings show these women to be doomed, but these stories reward their characters with happiness and promising futures. And the long past times in foreign places portrayed by the authors never feel distant given the amount of detail and nuance each story is imbued with, so that the reader is transported completely each time.

It is to the reader’s benefit not to know too much about what each story will contain, with only the promise that none end in tragedy, so there’s no need to be anxious when reading. Inevitably certain historical settings mean there are depictions of violence at times, but this is not the over-riding theme of any story, with queer love stories and self-discovery always emerging victorious.

Do not miss this book, it is a glorious expression of the love and light that has always filled WLW.

Anna Marie reviews Grrrls On The Side by Carrie Pack

Grrrls On the Side by Carrie Pack cover

I was so excited to read this queer Young Adult novel, but unfortunately it was a big disappointment. Before I get into my criticism, let me explain the premise, and why I was so excited to read it. Set in 1994, Grrrls on the Side is about Tabitha, a fat white girl who feels like an outcast stumbling across a movement of Riot Grrrls nearby. As someone who loves zines and some aspects of riot grrrl, I was really intrigued by the synopsis, and I had also just read Moxie which is another Young Adult novel but this time focused on contemporary girls reaching back to riot grrrls for inspiration. Moxie was disappointing to me for various reasons, some to do with the way race was represented and also because queerness was almost completely erased from the narrative. When I remembered that Grrrls on the Side had canon queerness in it and was also about Riot Grrrl I thought it would satiate my itch for some good angry queer punk girl YA, but once again I was wrong!

Grrrls on the Side is a confusing and fluctuating story – Tabitha is very inconsistent in so many ways, leaping from one feeling, one breakup and one crush to the next, and not in a way that was believably adolescent. It was weirdly paced, intensely focused on romance in a really unlikely and often confusing way – random characters would be mentioned once as being present in a scene completely out of the blue. A lot of the characters, including Tabitha, are like light switches in terms of their emotions: one minute they are crying and the next laughing – its very hard to keep up with and enjoy. One of the threads of the novel – that being Tabitha’s sexuality – is just oversimplified: at first she has turmoil about being bi and thinks about it a lot, but as soon as she’s in another relationship, it completely disappears from her mind, except when out of the blue, one of the love interests says really biphobic things to her (which I personally found to be very frustrating and out of character for her).

There were three black girl characters in the novel, Venus, Monique and Jackie, and of those three Jackie was the only one to get more of a personality than her blackness. Venus and Monique were consistently present to draw attention to the racism not only of the Riot Grrrl movement (and especially one specific character), but also to Tabitha. A character arc of the novel is that Tabitha finally understands that she won’t ever understand what it’s like to be black, which is such a disservice to all three black characters, and the idea that Tabitha, a white girl, is the focus point of a narrative supposed to highlight how black women and girls are the ‘grrrls on the side’ is reprehensible. I just cant understand why the author would choose to sideline the black characters in a story that she was in control of creating!

On top of the stereotypical and flat representation of these three characters, there is also a Chinese American character named Cherie who doesn’t seem to register as a person of colour in the context of the group or the narrative, like her presence isn’t seen as a ‘problem’ in the way the black girls are?!

I don’t want to end this totally negatively, so here were some good aspects: Throughout the chapters the zines that some of the girls make are included, and it was always so fun and lovely to read. It really made it seem like riot grrrl, like a bunch of messy, angry, contradictory weird girls were making things and enjoying it for themselves. My favourite character was Jackie, because she was a tender butch lesbian and she was so sweet and patient. Lastly, there was a really cute moment where Tabitha met an older woman who had also been part of a women’s liberation movement, and they had a lovely connection and promised to write to each other! Intergenerational solidarity is the best!

There’s one instance of sexual assault in this and some discussion of r*pe nearer the beginning of the novel.

Tierney reviews Who Is Vera Kelly? by Rosalie Knecht

Who Is Vera Kelly? by Rosalie Knecht cover

Who Is Vera Kelly? is a thoughtful, twisty spy thriller, whose eponymous protagonist is a queer American spy in 1960s Argentina. Vera’s life unfolds in fragments through the novel: passages in her present day, in which she is working for the CIA to monitor the unstable Argentinian government and suppress communist interests, are interspersed with passages recounting her troubled adolescence, young adulthood, and path to the CIA – as well as the path she takes coming in to her lesbian identity.

The novel is a spy thriller, but one with a little more languor: the focus is more on the psychological – oppressive feelings, the sense of things closing in, Vera getting inside her own head – than on heroic exploits, dastardly villains, and implausible twists of fate – like a queering of the genre itself. We follow Vera, in all her complexity, as she poses as a university student and tries to enter the inner circle of a student identified as some sort of communist operative – which includes befriending his mysterious girlfriend, Victoria, who seems to be flirting with her…

Who Is Vera Kelly? puts us right inside Vera’s head, and peels the layers back one by one: via the intermingled flashbacks, we journey through her life, starting with the death of her father and her difficult relationship with her abusive mother, moving forward right up to her present day, uncovering what she has been through and what makes her tick, as she herself tries to uncover this communist plot while the Argentinian government crumbles after a coup and she is left stranded there.

It took me a little while to get sucked in to the novel, but I once I was in, I was hooked. The novel fills you with an all-consuming desire to know what happens, both in Vera’s past and in her present… Who is on what side, and who can she trust? What is Vera’s life story? How can she escape Argentina after the coup? And, crucially, was Victoria actually flirting with her? You’ll have to read to find out.

Danika reviews Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg

Fried Green Tomatoes is a classic lesbian book. It’s one I’ve been meaning to read for a long time, and now that I have… I’m divided. On an immediate, personal level, I enjoyed reading it. It has a lot of interesting things going on. I am also surprised that I heard about this as having lesbian subtext, when it’s really quite blatant. On the other hand, I was troubled by its depiction of race. To try to untangle my thoughts, I’ll go through these one by one.

First, the queer “subtext.” When Ruth and Idgie first meet, Idgie is 15/16 and Ruth is 21(!) Idgie is immediately smitten with her, and everyone knows it. Idigie’s mother addresses her siblings with “Your sister has a crush, and I don’t want anyone to laugh at her.” Idgie is blatantly described as being “in love,” so I don’t know how that counts as subtext, except that they don’t have sex on page. There is even a fade-to-black sex scene with Idgie and another woman. Ruth notes the moment she began to love Idgie, and they share their famous “bee charmer” moment. They raise a child together, whom people often refer to as their child, with Ruth and Idgie as a unit.

With that out of the way, I can say that although I thought Ruth and Idgie were the heart of the book, they aren’t really the main characters. The book is interestingly structured. Evelyn is a middle-aged woman going through menopause, and she is unhappy with her life. She has done everything she has been told to do in order to be a “good girl,” and now that she’s had a moment to stop and look around–now that her kids are adults–she is realizing that none of that got her anywhere. Her husband drags her into a nursing home to visit her mother-in-law, but when she sneaks off to eat a candy bar, she bumps into another elderly woman, Ninny Threadgoode. Ninny regales her with stories from the good ol’ days at the Whistle Stop Cafe. The book alternates between Evelyn and Ninny’s regular visits and Whistle Stop during the 20s-60s. Interspersed are small-town newspaper clippings.

I found Evelyn interesting, as a character. She is just beginning to discover her anger, and it comes on strong. She is angry at everyone who she feels wrongs her. She creates an alter-ego which she imagines ruling the world, and doing things like dropping a bomb on the entire Middle East. She has a lot of racist thoughts. Ninny is similarly engaging, but flawed. She helps Evelyn a lot, by providing her emotional support. She obviously is very nostalgic for the times she’s describing, and I couldn’t help but get drawn in and begin to feel that nostalgia myself. She also goes on at great length about “colored folk” and ~well-meaning~ stereotypes that she has about them, as well as some ableist comments about little people. This may be accurate for a woman who grew up in the 20s, but it doesn’t mean I want to read about it at great length and for no reason. (She makes racist comments out of nowhere.)

Because I have heard about this book in the context of a feel-good read, I wasn’t expecting it go as dark as it does. There is racist and ableist slurs, abuse, rape, murder, and even (spoiler) cannibalism. What really made me reconsider how I felt about this, though, was the racism. Obviously, if you’re talking about a town in the southern US from the 20s-60s, you’re going to talk about racism, but it goes beyond that. For one thing, one of Idgie’s friends is a member of the KKK. This is shrugged off, even though Idgie and Ruth are theoretically anti-racism (they serve black people from their cafe even when the KKK protests–but they only serve black people through the back door). Then again, Idgie uses the n-word. Worse, though, are the racist caricatures that make up the black cast. Most of them speak AAVE (phonetically spelled out), and they are devoted to Idgie. Another character is described as being “so black he had blue gums,” and that kid grows up to stab his brother 5 times in the arm. (His brother, who had lighter skin, was a model citizen.) Why include that character? In fact, Artis gets a lot of page time, and I’m not sure why.

I did enjoy the tone of the book, and aspects of it. I liked Idgie and Ruth, obviously. I did feel transported to Whistle Stop, and I mourned its dismantling. But unfortunately, I just can’t freely recommend it because of the racism that’s so blatant in the text. It’s disappointing, because the parts this book does well, I loved. It’s a shame that this wasn’t interrogated more, because I do believe the intention was to call out racism, but it unknowingly perpetuated it. As much as I can see why people loved this, from a 2018 perspective, it just hasn’t aged well.

Megan G reviews Sodom Road Exit by Amber Dawn

Sodom Road Exit by Amber Dawn cover

Buried under a mountain of debt, Starla Martin is forced to say goodbye to her life in Toronto and return to her hometown of Crystal Beach. To help her with her debt, her mother offers to find her a job with her at the local library, but Starla knows that just living with her mother will already be challenging enough. Instead, she finds a job at a local campsite, “The Point”, working the overnight shift. There, she finds herself involved not only in the lives of its residents, but also in a supernatural phenomenon unlike any she’s experienced before. And yet, Starla is not afraid. In fact, she is the exact opposite.

I was instantly drawn to this book because of its setting. It’s hard enough finding Canadian stories that aren’t set in the plains, but a queer ghost story set in Eastern Ontario? Colour me intrigued. In this aspect, the story did not disappoint. Everything about this story screamed Ontario, from the crappy local bus service, to the celebration of May two-four. Even though I’ve never been to Crystal Beach, or even Fort Erie, after reading this book I feel like I have.

The protagonist, Starla, took a bit of time to get used to. This is partially because for the first few chapters of the book, all we really seem to know about her is that she lives in Toronto, dropped out of college, and has a lot of sex. Her sexual partners are described as both male and female, which led me to assume that Starla is bisexual, and having the only personal characteristic of a bisexual character be that she has many sexual partners was not a very promising start. However, as the story unfolds you learn more about Starla, who she is, why she acts the way she does, what led her to the choices she made. She goes from a two-dimensional sex-addict to a three-dimensional traumatised woman, simply trying to live her life.

As for her sexual orientation, despite seemingly being attracted to men and women, Starla is often labelled a lesbian, though never by herself or her girlfriend. This can most likely be chalked up to the story being set in the 1990’s, when knowledge of all things queer was still pretty minimal. It is made very clear that Starla feels more attracted to women than she does to men, so it is also possible that she is a lesbian who is struggling with compulsive heterosexuality based on her past, though this isn’t delved into too deeply.

This is an incredibly heavy story, with characters suffering from such things as spousal abuse, alcoholism, suicide ideation, and past physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. The latter is described explicitly, as both Starla and her friend, Bobby, have experienced abuse in their past. Bobby’s past abuse is specifically relating to her identity as an Aboriginal woman, something I am happy that Dawn included and delved into. [minor spoiler] Starla’s abuse happened when she was a child, and it is implied that her mother was aware of it but did nothing [end spoiler]. As well, there is an incident near the beginning of the novel between Starla and a cab driver that does not read as consensual in the least. If any of these things trigger you, you may want to give this book a pass.

The supernatural element of the book was incredible. The ghost, Etta, is both a sympathetic and villainous entity. You feel for her, the way she was in life, and the horrible way she died, but at the same time you hate her for what she is doing to Starla and everybody around her. I adore characters who can be loved and loathed, as I find it such a tough line to walk. Dawn manages it flawlessly here.

I won’t delve too far into the love story of this book, because it’s something you need to experience by reading it to fully understand. Just know that it is perfectly crafted, and unlike any romantic plot I’ve read before.

Overall, Amber Dawn has crafted a wonderful supernatural drama, full of characters who feel so human, you’ll think they’re your friend by the end. She draws you, not only into their lives, but into their environment. By the end of the story, you will be dying to book yourself a ticket to Crystal Beach, hoping to experience even a hint of what the novel describes.