Category Archives: Lesbrary Reviews

Danika reviews Stone Fruit by Lee Lai

Posted on by — Leave a reply
Stone Fruit cover

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

This is a graphic novel that follows Bron and Ray and their complicated relationship to each other and their families. Ray’s sister is an overstretched single mother, and Ray offered to step in and take care of her niece twice a week. 6-year-old Nessie adores spending time with them, especially since Aunt Bron is the most fun to play with. They go wild together, tearing through the woods looking for a silver hound, which is perpetually just out of reach, making up songs as they go. The primal state they all sink into on these adventures is shown in the illustration style, where they transform into monstrous figures.

Panels from Stone Fruit

Outside of these adventures, though, Bron and Ray are struggling. Bron is dealing with mental health difficulties, which causes her to distance herself from Ray. Ray reacts by feeling insecure and needy, trying to reach out for reassurance. Unsurprisingly, this becomes a downward spiral. I found this difficult to read–in fact, I almost put this down in the first part, because it felt so achingly sad and personal. I’m glad I pushed through it, though, because this is a beautiful exploration of messy, complicated relationships, whether familial or romantic.

Bron decides to go back home to face her past. Her family is religious, and they don’t approve or understand her being queer and trans. She begins making connections with her teenage sister, finding similarities she was previously unaware of–but still struggling to overcome the barriers between them. Meanwhile, Ray starts conversations with her sister, finding ways to communicate that aren’t constant arguments (her sister doesn’t approve of Bron).

The strength of this graphic novel was the same reason I had trouble getting into it: it’s painfully relatable. It’s about the messiness of everyday queerness. Ray and Bron tried to build an ideal life together, but they couldn’t outrun the underlying issues of living in a transphobic heterosexist world, especially when they formed the foundation of your early life. There are no easy answers, just humans tentatively reaching out to each other, finding both hurt and comfort.

Shannon reviews She’s Too Pretty To Burn by Wendy Heard

Posted on by — Leave a reply
She's Too Pretty to Burn by Wendy Heard

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

As the weather begins to warm up here in the midwest, I find myself in serious need of books set during the warm summer months. There’s something so magical about long days spent in the sunshine, even if the characters’ daily activities aren’t ones I’d recommend. Books set in the summer just have a certain kind of hypnotic feel, and it’s exactly that feeling I was searching for when I picked up She’s Too Pretty To Burn, the latest novel by Wendy Heard. It’s a young adult thriller with charismatic characters and a swoony romance, and I devoured it in a single sitting.

Veronica is a photographer living in San Diego with her mother. When we first meet her, she’s pretty bored with life, hanging out at a party she’s not enjoying and just wishing for something exciting to happen. She loves photography, but even it isn’t providing her enough mental stimulation to fight off her feelings of boredom.

Then, she meets Mick, a complicated and beautiful young woman who seems to speak right to Veronica’s soul. The reader knows pretty early on that Mick is a troubled character, but Veronica doesn’t pick up on this for quite some time. She just knows that she’s captivated by Mick, and she becomes a little bit obsessed with photographing her, even though Mick herself hates having her picture taken.

Mick’s home life isn’t the greatest, so spending time with Veronica serves as a sort of escape for her. The two begin spending all their free time together, and it’s not long before Veronica introduces her to her good friend Nico, an activist with a passion for performance art. He’s a couple of years older than Mick and Veronica, definitely more worldly than them, and he has a plan he thinks will shake up the city in some necessary ways.

At first, Nico’s plan seems harmless enough, but as time passes and Mick falls deeper under his spell, things take a dangerous turn. Veronica, desperate to make it big as a photographer, doesn’t notice the danger Mick and Nico are putting themselves in right away. Will she figure things out in time to stop something catastrophic from happening, something with the power to affect the trajectories of all their lives?

She’s Too Pretty To Burn is pretty dark, definitely not a good fit for those looking for a story on the sweeter side of the young adult spectrum. Their are some blurred lines when it comes to consent here, and readers who are triggered by discussion of abuse might want to do additional research before picking this up.

The characters aren’t all good or all bad. Instead, they exist in that big gray area that makes them super relatable but also difficult to categorize. It’s hard for me to choose a favorite, since each is incredibly well-drawn. They all make bad decisions at times, but then, that’s a regular part of being a human being, and something I definitely want in my fiction. Perfect, cookie-cutter people aren’t all that interesting to read about.

I enjoyed watching the relationship between Mick and Veronica blossom. The author does a phenomenal job showing how complex love is, especially for teenagers who are working hard to figure their lives out. Certain scenes between the two are poignant and beautiful, while others serve to amp up the tension of the overall story.

If you’re looking for a fast-paced novel that’s dark and twisty and filled with characters who remind you of people you’d meet in the real world, you could do far worse than She’s Too Pretty To Burn. It’s probably not a book that will appeal to every reader, but it landed firmly in my wheelhouse and I’m so glad I gave it a try.

Shira Glassman reviews Worthy of Love by Quinn Ivins

Posted on by — Leave a reply

Worthy of Love cover

The plot: Closeted political lawyer newly released from prison on a corruption charge and therefore utterly friendless and disgraced, ends up working random retail where she meets an adorable, hospitable Southern femme.

I’ve been in a huge reading slump since the lockdown started, sticking with familiar stories I already knew–to the point where there’s at least one Agatha Christie book I’ve read multiple times now in the same pandemic. Quinn Ivins’ Worthy of Love is one of the first unfamiliar books I’ve been able to get myself to read, which I attribute to two things: the exciting plot and the snappy prose. To put it baldly, the text of this book simply was not work to read. Even though the tone of the first third–specifically–was a gritty and somber hellscape, as both heroines battle hopelessness and microaggressions, I kept wanting to know how it was going to turn out all right and turned page after page of snappy narration. (And that’s unusual for me. I prefer comfort reads.)

I want to be honest that this book has sharp edges. For one thing, one of the heroines is presented right off the bat as the most hated woman in America, and the other heroine fends off sexual assault in the parking lot of her workplace. But then the more upsetting material gives way to the love story and the “solving”, and everything works out in a very complete, satisfying, and vindicating way. One of the reasons I ultimately decided to write this review was a positive plot bombshell I hesitate to telegraph–but it’s there. Another reason is one of the deftest Checkov’s Guns I’ve ever seen fired in a book. In other words, a wonderful “oh I GET HOW THIS IS GOING TO WORK OUT AS A HAPPY ENDING” that you don’t see coming until the page it happens. I tip my giant pink-grapefruit hat to the cleverness with which Ivins set that up.

One of the heroines has undiagnosed ADHD for which she begins to get treatment within the book. This, I believe, is written from the inside and elegantly rendered. The other heroine is Filipina, at the request of the author’s wife who is Filipina. This heroine does experience more microaggressions in that first third of the book than I’m comfortable with reading from a white writer, so that is also something I wanted to be up front about. However, I am white, and I don’t want to speak for Asian readers. Additionally, though this book takes place in a fictionalized America with different presidential candidates, this book will not allow you to live a “45”-free existence (although he’s got a different name and only gets mentioned a few times.) Just in case that’s something you needed to know before diving in.

I wish this book was a movie also. Now that I know how satisfyingly everything works out, I’d love to see it dramatized–and structurally, it hits dramatic “beats” like a movie. Who knows, maybe some day!

Shira Glassman is the author of Knit One Girl Two and other queer Jewish fiction, both fantasy and contemporary.

Mo Springer reviews Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

Posted on by — Leave a reply

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda LoAmazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

Lily Hu has always been at least somewhat aware of her attraction to women. But after seeing a lesbian novel in a store, a poster for a male impersonator, and her classmate Kath in the Telegraph Club, she knows she has to be honest with herself. However, this honesty and living with it even what small amount she thinks she can afford, could put herself and her whole family at risk. But 1954 America is not only discriminating violently against gay people, but also Chinese people, who are at risk for deportation as well. But Lily wants to have a life of her own, to date who she wants, and to be happy with Kath.

Lily is a dynamic character who you sympathize with and understand very well at every point in the story. She’s mature for her age because she has to be, but also is a teenager who is experiencing so many firsts while also under immense pressure that no teen should have to bear. Through her, we get to see a large cast of characters similarly feel real and complex.

In particular, I really loved how much we got to see of Lily’s family and how each member stood out with their own needs, wants, and opinions. The chapters from the point of view of her parents and aunt were great to see the background of Lily’s culture, family, and how all of that has led to the current situation.

Kath and the women Lily meets at the Telegraph Club similarly feel real and complex. Lily has to deal with finding a queer community for the first and also with the reality so many of us face: not everyone in the community will be your best friend, or even your friend at all. There is a unity we see in the people who go to the club, but Lily stands out as the only Asian American there.

Lily and Kath’s relationship is endearing and cute, and I found myself cheering them on, but also biting my nails in anticipation of what happens next. Her relationship with her best friend Shirley was also a roller coaster ride of emotions that created a mirror to her relationship with Kath.

This is one of those great historical novels that don’t make you feel like an outsider looking in, but does a great job of engaging with the reader so that the time period feels natural. I loved learning about the history of this time and place, but also never felt like I was being lectured. This story is incredibly immersive, and you forget you haven’t actually been there.

Overall, I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in sapphic romance sent in 1950s America.

Danika reviews The Key to You and Me by Jaye Robin Brown

Posted on by — Leave a reply
The Key to You and Me by Jaye Robin Brown cover

You know when you see a book and think, “I’m already on board: stop selling,” and you try to avoid any other details about the book, because only the most vague premise is enough to get you to read it and you want to go in as uninformed as possible? I fully admit that I played myself doing this with The Key to You and Me. I saw the cover and thought, “F/F YA road trip novel. SAY NO MORE.” Here’s the thing, though: this isn’t a road trip novel. It doesn’t claim to be a road trip novel. The cover is referring to a character teaching the other to drive. My expectations were completely unfounded, and it’s not this book’s fault that it didn’t meet them.

I shouldn’t have picked it up, honestly. I read Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit when it came out and didn’t enjoy it, but because I was so much in the minority in that opinion, I decided to give the author another go–mistakenly thinking it had one of my favourite tropes. Here’s what the book is actually about, not just my speculations based on cover design: Piper is an equestrian who wants to compete in the Olympics. After her girlfriend dumps her, she stays with her grandmother for the summer–an ultra-competitive woman who was once a professional equestrian herself. Piper is 18 and doesn’t have a driver’s license because she has a fear of driving, so her grandmother hires local teen Kat to teach Piper to drive, and Piper takes pictures with her to make her ex-girlfriend jealous. Unbeknownst to her, Kat is questioning her sexuality and quickly crushes on Piper. We alternate between their points of view.

I appreciate that Kat is questioning her sexuality and unsure at the start of the novel. She’s not just closeted: she genuinely doesn’t know–although she suspects she’s attracted to girls. Piper, on the other hand, has been out as a lesbian for years. I’m also glad that we have some horse girl representation here, which is sorely needed in sapphic lit.

Because Kat is questioning and unsure of herself, she does have some moments of homophobia. She’s so afraid of being outed that she can overcompensate to try to distance herself. Her best friend (who is a closeted gay guy) and her sister both suspect that she’s gay and voice it often, which just drives her further into the closet. I wish more time was spent on how damaging this can be: everyone has the right to come out on their own timeline, and having people say they already knew robs you of that agency. Piper, on the other hand, is heartbroken that her ex left her–and for a guy. She has some moments of biphobia around this (which is not supported by the text).

One element I really didn’t enjoy, though, was the romantic/sexual relationships between teens (18 year olds in high school) and 20-somethings. Kat and Piper go to a party and Kat is immediately aggressively hit on by a 24 year old woman who also pressures her to drink. Despite this clearly making Kat uncomfortable, no one calls this woman out on it, and it doesn’t seem to be treated as a big deal. (Spoiler:) Kat goes on to lie to another 23 year old, claiming to be her age, and they make out (etc). When Kat finally tells her the truth, she says she’s not interested in being with a high schooler, but she also doesn’t seem upset or hold it against her. (End spoiler) Although she’s 18 and this isn’t illegal, it still is… creepy to me.

Putting aside all those details, though, the biggest reason I didn’t enjoy this one was the writing style. I couldn’t tell you exactly why, but I kept bouncing off of it. The writing felt a little choppy, with a ton of dialogue, and it didn’t flow naturally for me as I was reading. I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with it, but for some reason I could not seem to immerse myself in it.

I’m sure that, like her earlier book, this one will have a lot of fans, but it wasn’t a great match for me.

Shira Glassman reviews Who We Could Be by Chelsea Cameron

Posted on by — Leave a reply

Who We Could Be cover

I think this book is going to be chocolate cream pie for readers who are suckers for friends-to-lovers f/f.

Who We Could Be by Chelsea Cameron is pitched as (grown) Anne/Diana from the beloved Anne of Green Gables series. Cameron has definitely captured the magic of the conventional girl (Diana, or “Monty” in this book — Montgomery, possibly as a nod to the inspiration’s author) dragged eagerly into the creative, spontaneous, and unconventional schemes and adventures of her red-haired best friend (Anne, or “Tess” in this book.)

We’ve moved about 300 miles west from Prince Edward Island to Maine, and 150 years forward into the present day, but Cameron preserved the general part of the world, the small-town feel, and most importantly, the dynamic of the original relationship. As mentioned above, Tess has the imagination, quirks, and impulsiveness of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, or the original Anne Shirley. In addition, the initial best friend relationship between the two leads has that intense obsessive feel that causes some readers to long for Anne/Diana in the first place.

Let’s put it this way: there are characters in this book who are basically waiting for Tess and Monty to realize they’re in love with each other, because they kind of act like they already are, way before it happens. For one thing, when Monty’s engagement goes up in smoke, Tess goes on the honeymoon with her instead. Which is in Savannah, Georgia, by the way, if you want to vicariously enjoy it with them. Actually, to be frank about that, there are degrees of this intensity that felt a little smothery to me, but I’m going to be aboveboard and admit that I’ve got specific, personal experiences that color my thoughts here. And not every fictional relationship is going to be 100% perfect for every reader.

Another pleasant and unexpected deviation from the original canon: first of all, Tess, unlike Anne, is not an orphan. She’s part of a large, noisy family (that includes a trans lesbian aunt and her wife, who is also trans!) This is a fun wish fulfillment that I feel the original Anne would be touched to know about. By the end of the book, it has really leaned into the well-noted phenomenon of friend groups who all eventually come out because of the way we find each other before we’re even out to ourselves.

The sex scene toward the end of the book is hot and satisfying. And it’s a really slow burn because both girls start the book thinking they’re straight so it’s good to have a well-written payoff after all that.

I want to leave a warning on this book, by the way, that will only be relevant to a few readers but for those readers it will matter. Many of the supporting female characters in this book (although not the two leads) are either pregnant or in the process of arranging motherhood some other way. If you would rather avoid that, perhaps wait on picking up this title.

Shira Glassman is the author of fluffy, feel-good f/f fiction such as Knit One Girl Two about an indie dyer and the wildlife painter who inspires her next round of sock club, or Fearless, about a band mom who’s swept off her feet by the music teacher.

Meagan Kimberly reviews Grimmer Intentions by Jodi Hutchins

Posted on by — Leave a reply

Grimmer Intentions by Jodi Hutchins

This is the second in the Tales from the Grim series. I picked it up not realizing it was the second book, so I recommend reading the first, because it felt like much of the story’s background was missing without it.

Although readers can pick up on who the characters are from the previous book without having read it, they still lack depth. Throughout the story, the strongest relationship dynamic happens between Margo and her adopted brother Luis. The rest tend to fall flat and rely on previous knowledge of the last novel.

The romance felt secondary to the plot, but that may be because it didn’t feel like there was much chemistry between the characters. Even if there had been build up in the first book, this one felt lacking in the connection that brought them together.

The politics and magic of the world were a more interesting plot. Again, it needed more development, as there wasn’t much background on Margo’s djinn heritage. It’s a world in which mixed-blood, paranormal beings are held in disdain, which could have made the story powerful as commentary on real-world issues. But it never delved far enough.

Despite its shortcomings, the novel did move at a fast pace and keep me intrigued. It’s well written and keeps you turning the pages. It shows there’s great potential for more from this world and this writer. I might go back and read book 1 to get the complete picture of these characters and their story.

Marieke reviews Daughter Of The Sun by Effie Calvin

Posted on by — Leave a reply

Daughter of the Sun

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

Anybody who gets me talking about books in any amount of time will swiftly learn there are a few niche genres I’m an absolute sucker for: weird murder mysteries (see: Jane, Unlimited, Meddling Kids, The 7 ½ Deaths Of Evelyn Hardcastle), atmospheric fairy tale retellings (see: Blanca & Roja, The Girls At The Kingfisher Club, Daughter Of The Forest). But another genre I love deeply, to the point I’ve made a Spotify mix for it, is involuntary road trips. A friend pointed out that’s just a fancy way of saying kidnapping, but that’s not what I mean by the term (though it sometimes applies). It’s two people who may not have a common cause, but who share a common destination and/or mutual benefit in travelling together while absolutely not wanting to travel together. For this genre, think of stories like Jaime & Brienne, Arya & The Hound, the Witcher, Fire by Kristin Cashore, etc. It just so happens that Daughter Of The Sun exactly fits in this genre as well, which was a major contributor to my enjoyment of it.

It’s the second instalment in the Tales Of Inthya series, but as the title suggests, all books are individual tales set in the same world. I don’t believe you would need to have read the first book, as Daughter is unrelated to it in plot terms. The only benefit you might glean is a slightly stronger understanding of worldbuilding, but a lot of that is covered in this book as well. The eponymous Daugher is a Paladin who travels the world of Inthya to vanquish chaos gods and other demon-y issues. After she unwittingly fails to banish one such chaos goddess, they meet again while the goddess is disguised in human form and after a discussion end up traveling together to deliver the ‘human’ to her ‘brother.’ Of course, on this journey they run into obstacles of all descriptions and grow closer together throughout, with the secret identity of the goddess looming ever larger…

While the status of Aelia as a goddess might create an unequal power balance in their relationship, she is rather weak as a result of her duel with the Orsina the Paladin – who is blessed with some magic power from her patron god as well, so they are actually on relatively equal footing in that regard. No, the instability in this relationship is created by Aelia choosing to hide her chaotic identity, which requires her to lie and generally be secretive, which puts a significant strain on their relationship. While this is a topic Aelia chooses to not speak freely on, I was glad to see that honesty and communication were strong facets in all other areas of their burgeoning relationship. They obviously have completely different life experiences and backgrounds, but never use this to judge the other (or when Orsina unconsciously does, Aelia immediately calls her out on it and Orsina apologises and makes efforts not to do so again – which makes for refreshingly healthy communication).

Combine strong communication practices with lots of time forcibly spent together (occasionally in small quarters) and a chaos goddess eager to learn about the human world, and you have the makings for a pretty sweet romance. Sweet is the territory where it remains though, as this never becomes one of those epic or sweeping romances at the heart of some other fantasy road trips. While there is a clear progress of shared moments that signpost the road towards romance and emotional intimacy, it’s that exact signposting that feels a bit too fabricated and like a checklist being followed. This means that the growing chemistry between the two characters never comes across as ‘real,’ which is where showing vs. telling may come into the equation with an unfavourable result.

This issue is exacerbated by one of the most common tropes in any romance: The Other Woman. When Orsina left to travel the land fighting demons and other creatures, she left behind a pampered noblewoman who was leading her on. It is clear from the get go that this noblewoman never valued or properly appreciated Orsina, and so Orsina’s going-on-two-years hang-up seems especially fabricated as a romantic obstacle in the way of her relationship with Aelia. This is not helped by the fact that the noblewoman plays no significant part in the development of the plot whatsoever and could functionally have been left out of the story altogether with no major consequences.

While it is always lovely to read a story where queerness is an accepted fact and queerphobia does not feature at all, it would be even more enjoyable if the queer relationships it champions feel more natural and realistic.

Content warnings: grief, fantasy-typical monsters and violence, injuries, child death (background), emotional manipulation

Marieke (she/her) has a weakness for niche genres like fairy tale retellings and weird murder mysteries, especially when combined with a nice cup of tea. She also shares diverse reading resources on her blog letsreadwomen.tumblr.com  

Sinclair Sexsmith reviews Sunstone by Stjepan Sejic

Posted on by — Leave a reply

Sunstone Vol 1

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

Kinky lesbian literature is hard to find. So when I hear of one that I haven’t read, and it has a good review or five, or a solid recommendation from a friend, I snap it up.

That’s how I found Sunstone by Stjepan Sejic, who is a Croatian comic book writer and artist, known for many different comic series. Sunstone happens to be the one where dominant-inclined Ally and submissive-inclined Lisa meet online and decide to get together in person, and we follow their sexcapades, their relationship, their falling in love, and their group of friends.

It was, though beautifully drawn, disappointing. Maybe if I wasn’t a nonbinary queer who has been kinky for 25 years and active in the leather and kink communities for 20, I would find this more relatable. It wasn’t that the information was wrong, it just felt like a very superficial sense of what kink is, and mostly just hung sexy kink illustrations around a weak story.

I hadn’t paid much attention to the author, just the title, when I ordered it, but a few chapters into it, I said to my partner, “I think this was written by a man.” And that was the other piece … though the story features two women as main characters and focuses on their sex and kink life together, it all reads as though it is for a male gaze. Both characters have ex-boyfriends, who feature prominently in the story and both sexualize them and think they are somehow responsible for their hotness, and there is just no context of lesbian community, identity, development, connection, lineage, or anything. It’s more like these two women live in a completely heterosexual world and just happen to find themselves compatible and together. In the beginning, they even have their relationship set up where they refer to each other as their “best friend” and think how great it is that her best friend can scratch that D/s itch that she has really wanted to be satiated and explored.

There was some representation of kink culture and community, but it was quite foreign to me — it didn’t feel like anything I’ve seen or witnessed; it read more like a fantasy of a kink community. And while that’s good and fine (for example, I did enjoy The Marketplace series by Laura Antoniou, which is absolutely a fantasy kink world), it just wasn’t clear to me if this was supposed to be a fantasy, or if this is what the author really thinks happen at kink clubs or in kinky lesbian bedrooms.

I also wonder about the cultural differences. I’m not sure English was Sejic’s first language, and sometimes I wonder if part of my critique is because it was in translation and that some of the cultural context didn’t transfer. Or, that coming from a United States leather community context, I just didn’t connect with it because he is referencing other kinds of communities in other places. So it’s possible that the things Lisa and Ally struggle with will still connect with readers, if perhaps you are beginning your journey into BDSM, and there are many sweet moments between them, and dozens of pages of smoldering hot illustrations.

Perhaps I expected too much of Sunstone — and perhaps I expect too much of queer, trans, and kinky literature in general — when I want it to be rooted in some sort of queer community or kink community. Or perhaps I am too self-centered, that I expect the queer and kink communities in books to be communities that I recognize. But either way, I was disappointed in the male gaze in this comic, but still enjoyed the beauty (and fetish) of it very much.

Rachel reviews Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

Posted on by — Leave a reply

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

I read Malinda Lo’s newest book, Last Night at the Telegraph Club (2021) about a month ago, and I’m still thinking about it. If you’re looking for a slice of mid-twentieth-century lesbian culture with some wonderful Chinese American representation and rich social history, Last Night at the Telegraph Club is for you. Having read many of her books over multiple years, including Ash (2009) and Huntress (2011), I believe that this novel is Lo’s most stunning achievement to date. The world needs more lesbian fiction like this, and I couldn’t get enough.

Set in 1954 San Francisco, the novel follows seventeen-year-old Lily Hu, a young Chinese American girl growing up amidst social, political, and cultural changes—many of which could place her and her family in danger. But Lily’s struggling with more than what’s happening in the world—she’s begun to wonder about herself, too. About who she might be beyond the context of the Red Scare and her family’s expectations. When she and her friend Kathleen Miller arrive at the long-coveted lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club, Lily’s world opens up in ways she has never allowed herself to imagine. But these discoveries are not without consequences, and Lily and Kathleen must struggle against the various influences that threaten them on all sides.

I was unable to put this book down. The rich, immersive quality of Lo’s writing really painted a picture of queer life in 1950s San Francisco that was alternately tantalizing and educational. So much of this novel reminded me of Sarah Waters’s Tipping the Velvet (1998) in the best way—not just because of the aspects/erotics of male impersonation that Lo employs, but due to Lo’s sophisticated writing and careful detail. It’s clear that this novel was heavily researched, and it really is the kind of Young Adult fiction that shows an immense interest in telling queer stories correctly and for all audiences. Lo obviously has a grasp of various cultural touchstones for queer communities of the period, and her work with lesbian pulp fiction was alternately heart-warming and thrilling—who among us hasn’t encountered our own version of Strange Season?

There is something so high-stakes and fast paced about this novel that kept it from leaving my hands. You’re desperate to see what will happen, which keeps you hurtling towards the end. Lily’s anticipation and desire are infectious, and by the time she enters the Telegraph Club for the first time, I was just as desperate to see inside as she was. What I truly appreciated about Lo’s novel was how universal she rendered queer experience—there were so many moments where I recognized myself (both as a teenager and now) in Lily or Kathleen’s characters. What is particularly special about novel’s like this one is that they make an effort to identify a queer community beyond two individual (and often isolated) love interests. That’s what truly makes this novel so rich and unique, and it makes the reading experience so much wider and worthwhile.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking/talking about or recommending this book to everyone I know. It’s such a heartwarming story that will appeal to queer readers and beyond.

Please visit Malinda Lo on Twitter or on her Website, and put Last Night at the Telegraph Club on your TBR on Goodreads.

Content Warnings: Violence, physical and verbal abuse, homophobia.

Rachel Friars is a writer and academic living in Canada, dividing her time between Ontario and New Brunswick. When she’s not writing short fiction, she’s reading every lesbian novel she can find. Rachel holds two degrees in English literature and is currently pursuing a PhD in nineteenth-century lesbian literature and history.

You can find Rachel on Twitter @RachelMFriars or on Goodreads @Rachel Friars.

A copy of this book was graciously provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review.