Literary LesBian Starter Kit: LesBian Teen Edition

Posted on March 16, 2015 by Danika Ellis

This guide is not enough.

I’ve always thought that coming out should be received with, at the least, a gift basket. We’re inundated with straight cis norms, culture, history, and media from birth, but finding the queer equivalents takes some searching, and it can be daunting without a field guide. As anyone who has gone searching for lesbian movies So this gift basket would provide the basics: a couple choice movies (I vote DEBS, I Can’t Think Straight, and Saving Face, personally), a few key books, some business cards to point you to the right websites, brochures for local queer resources, and a handful of fun paraphernalia. Maybe a t-shirt. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there would need to be different variations depending on the person coming out, even just where the books were concerned. Is this a teenage bibliophile who’s newly out, or one that’s not much of a reader? Or are they in their twenties? Forties or up? Each would require a different set of information. But all the books would have to drive home two crucial points:

Being queer isn’t a sentence to misery. No unhappy endings, at least not at the stage of the game. (The Well of Loneliness is off the table.)
LesBian* books can be just as good as straight ones. Just as literary, just as funny, just as romantic, just as enjoyable.

So here’s my vote for the top five books I would give a newly out teenage lesBian.

1) The Miseducation of Cameron Post by emily m. danforth. This is my favourite lesBian teen book, and though arguably it may be darker than point #1 would advise (it begins with Cam’s parents’ deaths, and part of the book is set in a “conversion therapy” aka “pray away the gay” camp), it is also complex, beautiful, and honest. It’s one of my favourite books I’ve ever read, so I had to give it a place here.

2) Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown. This was the book that sent me on my own lesBian literary journey. It was written in the 70s and follows Molly through her adolescence. What I loved about this book was Molly’s strength as a character, her complete unapologetic truth. This is often considered part of the lesBian book “canon,” and it’s nice to have a taste of lesBian literary history.

3) Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters. Sarah Waters is my favourite author, and this is her first work. It’s a “lesbo-Victorian romp” which follows the main character, Nan, on a queer and twisting journey. It reveals all sorts of lesBian lives in the Victorian era, and it’s just so much fun to read. Despite Nan going through a lot of difficult things, Tipping the Velvet has such joy in it (which is why I’m recommending it over Fingersmith, which is also excellent).

4) Adaptation by Malinda Lo. I’ve raved about how much I love this duology plenty of times on the Lesbrary, but I think this is a great addition because it shows that not only can lesBian books be literary and moving, they can also be exciting! Adaptation is a great pick for dystopian fans, and it has a lot of action, but it also has some great progressive ideas that would have been game-changing for me as a teen.

5) And to be honest, the fifth book would depend on the person. Really, I’m desperately looking for the lesBian equivalent of Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan, because that book is the kind of cotton candy, rosy vision of queer adolescence that can be so comforting when you first come out. But failing that, I would tailor this last one to their interests. Fairy tale fan? Ash by Malinda Lo or Kissing the Witch by Emma Donoghue. Vampire lover? The Gilda Stories by Jewelle Gomez. Video game fan? Just Girls by Rachel Gold. Zombie enthusiast? Eat Your Heart Out by Dayna Ingram. Like a tearjerker? Starting From Here by Lisa Jenn Bigelow. There are too many options.

What would your top five books be to give to a newly out teen lesBian? I still haven’t found the perfect fifth book to complement the others. I also see that this list is more white than I would like, so I’d especially like suggestions for PoC lesBian books.

*I’m using lesBian to signify lesbian and bi women.

Audrey reviews Desire Lines by Jack Gantos

Posted on March 14, 2015 by Danika Ellis

Desire Lines is a slim little outlier volume from Jack Gantos. He’s known for his Joey Pigza middle-grade novels and his quasi-autobiographical middle-to-teen novels, and even for his early readers starring Rotten Ralph. Desire Lines falls into the Lesser-Known Gantos bucket, which also includes Love Curse of the Rumbaughs, which is to Jack Gantos as Tideland is to Terry Gilliam. Having been unsettled by the Rumbaughs, I was apprehensive about Desire Lines, but it’s a straightforward endeavor. Powerful, but straightforward.

Walker is a high school student in Florida, kind of a loner. His personal sanctuary is a local golf course, and it has been invaded by two of his classmates, who are using the place to carry on an affair. And…they’re two female classmates. So he keeps their secret. And he shows up to watch on a regular basis, convincing himself that doing so is justifiable. He’s being respectful, and all.

Enter the preacher’s kid from the new church in town. Okay: If you have not grown up in Florida, you may not be familiar with the Bible Belt mindset that permeates much of its culture. Florida itself has a sizeable streak of weird that Gantos picks up on, but the worst parts of Florida are concentrated in this character, whose sole purpose is to conduct a witch hunt, and then move on to the next town. And Walker, who is generally a live-and-let-live (especially-if-I-can-watch) kind of guy, is somehow targeted. Do we see where this is going? There are no happy endings, there are no easy outs.

Walker falls in with a group of boys who are just awful humans, and they’re not painted as anything out of the ordinary. The classmates having the affair, Karen and Jennifer, aren’t particularly saintly or kind. They’re just high school kids. They behave thoughtlessly and speak cruelly and act selfishly. And when Walker has to make difficult decisions, under significant peer pressure, he uses the girls’ absolutely normal high school behavior to justify his ultimate choice.

The paperback I have was published in 2006, but this book’s original copyright was 1997. I would not be excited about being an out lesbian in Florida in 2015, never mind 2006, never mind 1997. As a Gantos fan, I was interested to read this book because I had no idea he’d written anything with any gay content. Walker’s clear self-analysis was not a surprise, and neither was the ugly, real and human behavior of the other boys. There really aren’t any female characters other than Karen and Jennifer. They aren’t even particularly well-developed characters. That’s not the point. It’s not about them. The book is a streamlined morality tale, a painful study of human behavior as it cuts across the ages, and it’s well done. Homosexuality is used here as a plot device only to denote Otherness and to set up a moral dilemma which can’t end without tragedy. Recommended for Gantos fans, those teaching middle-grade novels, and anyone interested in reading about how slightly introspective teenage boys navigate the development of morality. So—limited audience. But those who try it will find it a quick read that won’t be quickly forgotten.

Ashley Reviews Fat Angie by e.E. Charlton-Trujillo

Posted on March 13, 2015 by Danika Ellis

In high school, Fat Angie has never been addressed by just her first name. The “Fat” title has become a part of her, and as she repeats freshman year, it seems like she will never escape the critiques on her appearance. It is not just her classmates who name Angie resident fat girl of their conservative Ohio town, however – her mother and adopted older brother contribute to the constant commentary. When KC Romance comes to town, Angie assumes she will quickly assimilate into the social scene of high school and join in the bullying – but KC decides to break the mold and become Angie’s friend.

There is more to Angie than meets the eye, and the reader soon learns that she is battling more than the assault on her image. Angie’s older sister, who seems to have been her only friend before KC, abruptly joined the military after high school and is now a prisoner of war in Iraq. Angie’s sister’s story is frequently featured on the news, casting an unwanted light on the family as they attempt to deal with their grief. Angie’s obsession with her sister’s fate shadows all of her actions – at times, overwhelming her with despair and, but other times, compelling her to live for her sister’s sake.

KC is also a seriously complex character. Although her genuine interest in befriending Angie made me like her, I found myself wanting her to be a better friend as their relationship developed. The truth is that KC is just as troubled as Angie, and has just as much difficulty navigating their relationship as it fluctuates between friendship, awkward non-friendship, and more-than-friendship. It is frustrating to watch the girls go back and forth, but it also reveals the key issue at play: that neither girl has really known how to have a true friend, never mind a girlfriend.

Author e. E. Charlton-Trujillo’s representation of KC and Angie’s relationship exemplifies how interactions between new friends are often fraught with tension; my favorite way that this was depicted was through frequent pauses in the girls’ dialogue, where the reader is forced to experience the awkwardness.

Charlton-Trujillo certainly packs a lot of complicated situations into this novel (which may have helped it to win the American Library Association’s Stonewall Book Award in 2014). While critics have called it a stereotypical “issue” book, I tend to disagree. I think the intersection of Angie’s sister’s situation with Angie’s self-image issues and questioning of her sexuality is handled well and believably intertwined.

[trigger warning] I will mention that there are times when self-harm and attempts at suicide are handled less well. [spoiler, highlight to read] For example, at the climax of the novel, Angie runs to KC’s house to find her in the midst of an act of self-harm. This was really jarring and seemed to be excessive at the time; as I continued reading, I felt like KC’s situation was not explained or resolved in a way that justified the image being included. [end spoiler]

Overall, I would characterize Fat Angie as hard-hitting, but with just enough highs and hope to balance out the story. It’s worth the read, even if it will make you cringe as you try to find the words to help Angie and KC finally get together.

*It is also worth noting that Charlton-Trujillo’s book tour for Fat Angie consisted of her facilitating workshops for at-risk youth, empowering them in order to further the mission of the novel. Check out more about that here.

Amanda Clay reviews Not Otherwise Specified by Hannah Moskowitz

Posted on March 8, 2015 by Danika Ellis

Hold on to your hats, ladies! Have I got news for you! Hannah Moskowitz’s new book Not Otherwise Specified is an actual novel about an actual bisexual woman of color. That’s right! You heard correctly! Protagonist! Bisexual! Woman of color! And it’s a good book! This is like seeing a unicorn riding a dragon riding a giant squid.

Etta Sinclair is a girl with problems, but knowing who she is isn’t one of them. Who she is: smart and talented girl with an ex she still loves, a barely controlled eating disorder, a discarded dream symbolized by the toe shoes buried in her backyard, and a burning desire to get out of Nebraska. Her problems: a pack of former friends who call themselves the Disco Dykes. Ever since Etta ‘betrayed’ them by dating a guy they have made life at their exclusive prep school hell, vandalizing her locker, posting photoshopped porn onto her social media, even occasional physical attacks. Etta tries not to let it get to her, but that isn’t always easy.

Choosing instead to focus on the future, Etta befriends Bianca, a girl from her eating disorder support group, a girl more talented and far more fragile than she. With the encouragement of Bianca and her brother, the three new friends prepare to audition for Brentwood, a prestigious New York school for the performing arts. Will Etta have the talent and the confidence she needs to take this risk? Will Bianca have the strength of body and mind? And what if there’s only room at Brentwood for one of them?

Told in Etta’s sharp, unforgettable voice, Not Otherwise Specified is the book that has been missing from the LGBT-YA canon. Etta’s bisexuality isn’t a question, not up for debate. Indeed she spends a good bit of the narrative making it perfectly clear that she is real and valid and owes no one an explanation nor any selfish form of loyalty. The relationships she builds, restores and discards all come from and contribute to the whole person that she is.

The supporting characters—friends, enemies, family—are all well drawn and the Brentwood audition storyline is the perfect backdrop, offering everyone plenty of room to struggle and shine. Find this book, read it, pass it on. You won’t be sorry.

Danika reviews The House You Pass On the Way by Jacqueline Woodson

Posted on February 24, 2015 by Danika Ellis

You may have heard of Jacqueline Woodson from her recent win of the National Book Award for Brown Girl Dreaming, but you might not know about some of her older books, or that she’s written lesbian books. The House You Pass On the Way has been on my radar (and my shelves) for a long time, but the recognition that Woodson has gotten recently finally convinced me to pick it up. This is a tiny book, only 99 pages in my edition. It’s the story of the summer when Staggerlee was fourteen, and when she felt confused and alone. It’s also the summer when she met her (estranged, adopted) cousin Trout.

This is a book that tackles some quintessential young adult topics: confusion around identity, isolation, and, of course, falling in love over a summer. But these are topics that are handled so well. Some stories I feel like I can just sink into and be absorbed by, and within a few pages, I knew this was one of them. It’s an atmospheric novel, as well as an emotional one. Woodson somehow managed to evoke a lot of feeling within a very small space. It’s subtly done, and there are layers at work here. Not just sexual identity issues, but also being mixed race, as well as dealing with being a minor celebrity due to her grandparents’ cause of death.

I wouldn’t go into this book expecting a love story, but it is an interesting and moving story about accepting yourself and finding a place in the world. I would highly recommend this one.

Audrey reviews The Story of Owen: Dragon Slayer of Trondheim by E.K. Johnston

Posted on February 14, 2015 by Danika Ellis

“It’s literally about corporate dragon slaying.” The book was put into my hands. Because I have sent many, many books home with this young person, I took this one home and began reading it. This is a wonderful YA fantasy/alternate history title that had great reviews and for good reason. It has an awesome premise. There have always been dragons, and the one thing they have in common with humans? Both are addicted to fossil fuels.

E.K. Johnston’s strong social message will be apparent even to the middle-school (or high-school) audience the book is targeted to. And then it becomes clear there’s not only one strong social message. Narrator Siobhan’s story is of Owen Thorskard, who is raised by his loving family–Dad Aodhan, Aunt Lottie (one of the most famous dragon slayers of all time, who had to retire early due to injury), and her wife, Aunt Hannah. There’s some overt discussion of marriage in/equality and discriminatory legislation. Allusions are made here and there throughout the book to past difficulties the couple faced. The family has moved to Trondheim so Aodhan can be its official dragon slayer, as rural Trondheim, not a bastion of manufacturing or natural resources, has long been left unprotected. (Note: The Story of Owen is set in Canada and almost everyone is very very white.)

Siobhan has a pair of happily married parents who show up occasionally to worry over her and demonstrate that they’ve done a great job raising a wonderful kid, and that they’re appropriately concerned, and they’re good parents and all that, but they’re cardboard characters. The healthy romantic relationship in the book is Lottie and Hannah’s. There are a few relationships that don’t quite get off the ground, and some that are complete non-starters. It’s a lovely thing to pick up a contemporary YA book with a high school narrator who isn’t utterly consumed by hormones.

The traditional slayer/bard relationship is dead, and Lottie and Co. think it needs to be resurrected. They scheme to enlist Siobhan, a musical prodigy, in their plan. It doesn’t take much scheming. They’re a really great family to spend time with. And she believes in their cause. Most slayers are now corporate employees with little-to-no incentive to protect rural areas, and even governments aren’t concerned with places where the money isn’t. How can this trend be reversed, and dragon slaying again become a noble tradition? Oh, we’ll do a lot for fame, or to be near it (more social commentary, but deftly done).

This is a great, well-written, wry, socially aware (environmentally and politically) book you should read if you have any interest in fantasy literature or alternate history. And if you have any younger people (or fantasy readers) on your gift lists, really, don’t pass this one up. Siobhan frequently thinks in musical terms, which works very strongly towards her already well-developed character. And the book is nicely plotted. The ending caught me completely unprepared and occasioned an out-loud reaction, partially out of plain old respect. I deeply adore Siobhan as a character, if that wasn’t clear.

I am glad to have a title to add to my mental canon of YA books that involve same-sex marriages as 1. nothing unusual and 2. not the point of the book, but that do involve a lesbian couple as an integral part of the plot as part of the strong central family unit. And initially I thought the book was handed to me by the dragon-crazy teen because “there’s a happy gay couple in it, and my librarian is gay,” but I think it was really really on the strength of the book, which is something that would not have happened even just a few years ago. This in itself makes me happy. If you work with young people and/or do readers’ advisory, go get it. It is so much cooler than I could ever make it sound.

Amanda Clay reviews Afterworlds by Scott Westerfeld

Posted on February 4, 2015 by Danika Ellis

This book is all about the flipside.

Two interlocking stories, Darcy Patel, YA wunderkind, whose NaNoWriMo romance has catapulted her into a whole new world, and her creation, Elizabeth Scofield, whose brush with death gave her access to the afterlife and a whole new purpose for her existence. Told in alternating chapters, the young women’s stories unfold. The navigation of the new, the weight of responsibility both to people and circumstances, the shock of self-discovery, and the risks of new romance. Darcy’s tale is as real as Elizabeth’s is supernatural, but both girls share more than they might realize.

Lizzie’s story is Darcy’s, the book she wrote and sold for a staggering sum. Launched by this success, Darcy defers her college acceptance and moves to New York, throwing herself into the literary life. It’s a dizzy ascent at first, meeting idols as equals, learning how to live and work entirely on her own. But Darcy has luck as well as skill, and the people she meets are good and helpful, some even better than others. Fellow debut author Imogen Gray is friendly at first, but the two are drawn together and Darcy finds herself caught up in a first love she never even knew she wanted. But romance with a fellow writer has hidden challenges, especially when you both have secrets.

Lizzie’s life is much less serene. When terrorists attack the airport lounge where she waits for a flight, Lizzie survives only by magic, phasing into the Underworld, the middle land where ghosts roam, kept alive by the memories of the living. From a beautiful young man named Yamaraj, Lizzie learns she is a psychopomp, a living guide of the dead who can pass between worlds. With this newfound knowledge, Lizzie determines to do good, avenging the deaths of murdered children, even as she navigates the powers and politics of this new realm and the lives within it. Lizzie learns from Yamaraj, connecting with him on many levels, but their dedication and attraction may not be enough when their world is threatened with a killer of the dead.

As I said before, this book is all about the flipside. That’s what Lizzie calls the Underworld, and it’s the perfect metaphor for the story itself. Darcy’s tale is delightful. The brilliant, colorful world of the living, with love, friendship, money and a dreamy career won with hard work and genuine talent. There’s vicarious living and wish fulfillment, tempered with enough struggle, enough sacrifice, to keep it from being saccharine and unrealistic. Her romance with Imogen blooms and flourishes, and even their setbacks aren’t too upsetting. The book is also wonderfully meta, with lots of discussion about the ups and downs of writing YA novels, of the writing life, and of the difficulty making edits and revisions on the story we are currently reading.

Lizzie’s story, on the other hand, is the world of the dead: grey and flattened, chill and draining. Perhaps it is simply down to my taste, but the “Afterworlds” within Afterworlds didn’t work as well. The story of Lizzie’s newfound supernatural life and romance is adequate but unremarkable. I never skimmed, but I was often impatient to get past it and back to Darcy’s story. The romance with Yamaraj seemed like it was included because there’s supposed to be romances in stories like this. Unlike Darcy and Imogen, there wasn’t much chemistry. Lizzie doesn’t think or feel about him in romantic ways, just gets with him occasionally to make out. The world building is fairly unique, based on Hindu mythology, and Lizzie’s quest to find the killer of her mother’s childhood friend is enough plot to move the story forward. Even the climactic showdown seemed like it was there because it was time to wrap things up. It’s not a bad story, it’s just not as good as Darcy’s story.

Ultimately, this is a book I recommend. It’s not a challenging read, but it is enjoyable, and as Imogen herself says, who doesn’t need the occasional happy ending?

Trigger warnings: terrorism, gun violence, child murder

Danika reviews Tell Me Again How a Crush Should Feel by Sara Farizan

Posted on January 31, 2015 by Danika Ellis

I have to start out by saying that I love this title (and the cover is nice as well). Every time I would glance over at the title I’d think Right? What a great encapsulation of the lesbian high school experience. (I also had a Facebook friend comment on my Goodreads post that I had finished this book by saying that she thought this was a link to an advice column and was disappointed that she was not actually going to read advice for how a crush should feel. Someone get on that.)

This is a lesbian young adult book about Leila, and Iranian-American girl who goes to a prestigious academy, and she is already fully aware of her own gayness, no one else knows it yet. She isn’t ready to come out to her traditional Iranian parents, but at least her closeted life is made easier by the fact that she’s grown up around most of her classmates and has no romantic interest in any of them. That is, until the new girl show up.

Most of this book I really enjoyed. Leila is a great main character, and because she’s already self-aware of being a lesbian, we great these great mental jokes about being the unknown queer in the group. Typical for YA, this is a really quick read, and even most of the side characters seem developed and interesting. Overall, it didn’t totally blow me away, but it got me to thinking that maybe I’m starting to have more difficulty getting into YA books as I’ve gotten older. I think most teenagers would enjoy this, and I am glad to see YA with a lesbian of colour main character.

Unfortunately, I did have one issue with this book, and it’s a spoiler. Highlight below to read.

It’s funny that one of the minor characters in this book aspires to be a vampire, because Saskia, the initial love interest, seems act like one. I saw the twist coming, but even still, she becomes an almost cartoonish villain. And that’s not entirely unrealistic–I don’t want to say that people like her don’t exist–but it seemed out of place when the rest of the story is more about subtle changes, from Lisa dealing with her grief to Leila finding the strength to slowly come out to a selection of trustworthy people.

I also wondered if Saskia fit into the villainous bisexual trope. Part of Leila’s anger is because, at least in her view, Saskia cheated on her with a guy. (Her best friend, to be precise.) Saskia may identify as straight, but she certaintly plays the role of this villainous bisexual seductress (see the vampire analogy?) This might have been compensated for by Lisa identifying as bi, at least evening out the representation, but although the word “bi” is mentioned in the book, Lisa rejects it, saying she doesn’t want a label. (Which is fine for an individual to say, but bi representation in media has notoriously shied away from actually using the word “bisexual”.)

So I found that part disappointing, and it overshadowed the book for me.

Rachel reviews Two Teenagers in Twenty edited by Ann Heron

Posted on January 26, 2015 by Danika Ellis

Coming out and living as a gay or lesbian teenager can be hard. Or it can be liberating. Everyone’s stories are all different, and Two Teenagers in Twenty, a compilation of true coming-out stories by homosexual teenagers, touches on all the emotions. From acceptance and understanding to fear and disgust, this book is a must-read for any gay, bisexual, or lesbian teen.

Published in 1994 as a sequel to One Teenager in Ten, both edited by Ann Heron, Two Teenagers in Twenty was made to show the lives of coming-out teens and the reactions of their families and friends. Though outdated (the stories in the book range from the 1980s-1990s), the hardships and fears young gays and lesbians face still resonates deeply today. The youth in these stories are between twelve and twenty-four years old, but each of them had to deal with realizing their sexuality, coming to terms with it despite society’s negative portrayal, and telling their loved ones.

This book accurately showed how different each individual’s story was. You get to know the plight of Joanne, a young woman raised by her parents and her school to believe homosexuality is wrong; Jim, whose mother and father react badly to his being gay; Robin, a girl exposed to only negativity about gays and must come to terms with herself; and Jennifer, a bisexual woman into gay rights activism. Though some stories are short, the authors clearly describe their troubles and their triumphs. You get to know each person, and you cheer them on or grieve for their problems and sadness.

The stories these brave teens tell can be shocking and, at times, appalling, making you disgusted with homophobes and bigots. Some kids here have dealt with being picked on at school, beaten up, rejected by their parents, isolation, and suicidal thoughts and attempts. Tragically, one young lesbian girl who shared her story in this book succeeded in ending her life. Suicide was and still is a huge problem for gay teens because of the lack of understanding and the hatred directed at them.

A lot of the stories do offer hope. Some parents featured in Two Teenagers in Twenty were accepting of their children, and even marched with them in Gay Pride parades. Some teens were able to find resources and books that showed homosexuality in a positive light, and some were able to meet other teenagers like them. And many of the teens were combating homophobia and trying to raise awareness for gay rights. Some good things have happened for gay rights since this book came out, but there is still a lot to do.

Two Teenagers in Twenty provided homosexual teenagers with people their age to relate to, hope for their futures, and also provided some good resources. At the back of the book are lists of fiction and non-fiction books for gays and lesbians. Granted, some are very old now, but that doesn’t take away the enjoyment of them. As for Two Teenagers in Twenty itself, it’s a wonderful book that still has potential to help gay and lesbian teens and young adults who are coming out to themselves or their loved ones. It’s touching, thought-provoking, and ultimately, hopeful.

Danika reviews Will of the Empress by Tamora Pierce

Posted on December 31, 2014 by Danika Ellis

A little bit of background on my experience of this book, first. I have always heard positive things about Tamora Pierce’s writing, but I hadn’t picked up any of her books before this year. I did, however, have a copy of Will of the Empress, because I heard this was a lesbian young adult book, which is probably my favourite genre. I was also going to see Mark of Mark Reads at Leakycon in 2014, so I decided that I would try to catch up one of the series he was reading. He was reading Tamora Pierce, so I binge-read her books to catch up, in the order that Mark was reading them, which was mostly publication order. But because I was reading them in the order Mark is, it meant that Will of the Empress was the twenty-sixth Tamora Pierce book I read this year. And the entire time, though I loved the other books, I was also eager to get to The Lesbian Book, so I had some expectations.

Will of the Empress is listed as the first book in a series (The Circle Reforged), but the main characters are written about in The Circle of Magic quartet and The Circle Opens quartet first. I’m sure you could technically read this as a standalone, but it’s a lot more effective knowing the main characters’ backstory.

I was already in love with the main characters before going into Will of the Empress. The funny thing is, I knew that in this book, one of the characters was going to be a lesbian, but I wasn’t sure which of the three girls it was. Which meant that in the previous eight books, I was guessing. It was fun, actually, even though I picked the wrong horse. My favourite thing about Tamora Pierce’s books (aside from the feminism) is that the main characters in all of her novels are totally realistic, well-rounded, and completely distinct from each other. I loved that in the Tortall books, and it carries into the Circle universe as well. I also really appreciated that the Circle universe is a lot more diverse. While most of the Tortall protagonists are young, female, white, straight, and noble, the four Circle main characters include two people of colour, a lesbian, and a range of financial statuses/ranks. This book also reveals that their teachers (also about half people of colour) included two women in a relationship, something which was only hinted in the previous books.

This book focuses on how the four have drifted apart from each other, and their attempts to return to their former closeness. It’s uncomfortable, after the celebration of friendship that was the original Circle quartet, but it’s realistic and necessary. They all have grown, and their relationships all shift and evolve throughout the story to reflect that. The plot itself is pretty minimal, because it’s really about this emotional growth, and also about their beginning of their individual recoveries from the trauma each has gone through in the last few years. Between them, they’ve experienced arson, mass murder, war, and been dragged into these situations in ways they never intended.

So there is this aspect to the subdued plot next to the other books–that the characters have suffered enough at this point–but I think there’s also the element that they are just too powerful by this time, especially together, for there to be any real threat to them. Each not only has an incredible amount of personal power, but also has threads of each other’s magic, and now has mastered this magic. When the central conflict of the book does happen, it’s over with pretty quickly. They’ve become pretty much invincible as a unit, which I think sort of writes Tamora Pierce into a corner. Anything that could actually pose as a threat to them would be comically over the top. And though I do primarily enjoy her books for the characters and their interaction, it did make this one seem a little slower, because there was no dramatic conflict in the last quarter of the book, at least not one comparable to most of hers.

As for the lesbian content of the book, it is a pretty minor subplot, but I loved it. I won’t tell you who it was, in case you also want to guess, but it felt perfectly organic both for that character to be a lesbian and for it not to have come up until now. After all, the other books take place when they are children, often in life-threatening danger, so it makes sense that she didn’t really start thinking about romance until she was an older teenager. The little romance in this book was adorable. [mild spoilers, highlight to read] I was worried that her partner was going to be a spy, or somehow involved in the plot against them, but luckily I was wrong. [end spoilers] It’s also significant that this romance is probably the most serious one in the series for any of the characters. The descriptions of her realizing that she’s falling in love and what that means as well her friends’ reactions are all fantastic to read and exactly what I would expect from Tamora Pierce. I really hope that she continues to write more queer main characters.

This isn’t my favourite of her books, though I honestly expected it to be, but it’s still solid, and one that I would recommend. Read all of her books and know that you can look forward to a lesbian main character. I can’t believe that I’ve read almost all of Tamora Pierce’s books (thirty years of work read in one year! oops!), but I’ve enjoyed myself so much. I can’t wait to read the last collections of short stories and audio books that are left, and I look forward to her next ones!

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