Tag Archives: trauma

Religious Trauma and Queer Awakening: Gay the Pray Away by Natalie Naudus

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Content warnings: homophobia, child abuse, religious abuse, physical abuse

Gay the Pray Away by Natalie Naudus follows Valerie Danners as she begins to understand and live her own truth. Unfortunately for Valerie, the truth of her sexuality is beyond unacceptable to her conservative Christian community, and she may not be able to have herself and her family.

I looked forward to reading this book. It combines two of my interests, sapphic characters and high-control religious groups, and one on count it thrives. The relationship between Riley and Valerie progresses naturally and is beyond adorable. I loved their sweet moments sharing each other’s passions and getting to be carefree teenagers together. Their stolen and cobbled-together dates shine throughout the book, even with a tremor of fear always running through them. I knew from the summary on the back cover that discovery was inevitable.

Which leads into the book’s weaknesses.

First, the blurb tells a majority of the story. In a way, that’s hard to avoid; this is a character-driven book, not plot-heavy. Maybe most readers found the book predictable. Maybe that doesn’t matter. With the character’s arc at the heart of this story and the warmly colored, borderline-idyllic art on the cover, even mildly savvy readers likely guessed the sort of ending this one had in store. I don’t mean that as a criticism. Plenty of queer readers want happy endings and with good reason.

However, the character’s initial perspective deserves analysis. This is supposed to be a book about Valerie deconstructing her faith. I assert that due to several scenes in which she confronts new information and experiences in the light of conservative Christian teachings. That is the book I wanted and the book I came for.

Unfortunately, it is not this book. From her introduction, Valerie does not hold those teachings. She tells us at the start how boring she finds Bible study, how she constantly daydreams during morning prayers. After sneaking a queer book from the library, she holes up in her closet to read it; this closet is set up as her little hideaway. Valerie complains about the rules under which she lives pretty much from the start. This is something that frustrates me because it feels like this fear of making mistakes. It feels like a concern on the part of maybe a writer or editor that Valerie won’t be likable enough if she holds unpopular beliefs. But a lot of people growing up in high-control religious groups genuinely hold beliefs they are raised with, beliefs many of us would deem problematic—they hold, in essence, the beliefs from which Valerie claims to be deconstructing. She is not deconstructing. You cannot deconstruct what was never built.

That is my biggest criticism of this book. Its lack of plot I can excuse. Its predictable ending seems reasonable. But the summary selling this as a deconstruction story, the passages in which Valerie claims to hold beliefs that conflict with what we’re shown prior just long enough for her to change her views? That frustrated me. The intended core of the book serves a context wholly different from the one provided here.

Gay the Pray Away is not a bad book. If you want a sweet romance in dangerous times, this is an excellent choice. My frustration is aimed at the marketing. This isn’t about a girl picking apart the toxic messaging she’s internalized; those scenes could have been removed without altering the story at all. My recommendation would be to go into it aware and keep your expectations reasonable.

A Devastating Story of Grief: We Are Okay by Nina LaCour

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When I first picked up Nina LaCour’s We Are Okay and read the blurbs on the cover, I knew that it was going to be a sad one. After all, the noun “grief” appears multiple times alongside adjectives such as “devastating”, “raw”, and “lonely”. Still, I thought to myself, “I’ve read poignantly sad books before. How bad could it be?” Y’all, let me tell you that I was not prepared for how hard this book hit me. It is no exaggeration for me to say that I cried throughout large sections of it. The blurbs were true: We Are Okay is a beautiful and heartbreaking look at grief, its effects on people, and ultimately how the truth can help see us through.

Following a tragic event that shook Marin to her core, she leaves her California hometown for college in New York with only her phone, her wallet, and a picture of her mom. With the end of her first semester upon her, she still hasn’t spoken to anyone from home, not even her best friend Mabel. Instead of returning home, she plans to spend the entire Christmas break alone in an empty dorm. However, Mabel is coming to stay for three days of the break, forcing Marin to confront what happened and figure out if there is a way forward for her.

There is so much that Nina LaCour does in We are Okay that makes it so emotionally devastating. For starters, the language and writing style she employs really set the tone and sell the rawness of Marin’s emotions. Sentences tend to be shorter and more punchy and Nina avoids hiding things behind flowery metaphor. At the same time, she does an excellent job of showing Marin’s emotions rather than simply telling us what they are. These things combine in a way that either puts you directly into her shoes or makes you deeply empathize with her.  

Another thing that really sells the emotions of this book is the use of flashbacks and the slow reveal of the traumatic event. For most of the book, you flip back and forth between Marin now and Marin before the event. You get to see a younger, happier, more hopeful version of Marin directly contrasted to the Marin who has had that hope and happiness ripped away. By doing this and not revealing what happened until the third act of the novel, the mystery is properly built up and makes for an intensely heart-wrenching moment in the story when the curtain is pulled back.   

I also think Nina’s choice of setting the story around the first semester of college added to its overall impact. Living in a college town and working directly with college students, I see first-hand how hopeful and exciting that first semester of college can be for many of them. That first semester is a chance to reinvent oneself or engage in self-discovery. This new self then goes home and has the potential to crash against how people there once saw you. Marin’s experience is similar in a lot of ways to this, but in a much sadder fashion. She changes because change is foisted upon her by tragedy. Instead of going home, home comes to her and forces her to reckon with those changes.

Lastly, as sad as this story is at times, I did enjoy that it ended with at least some sense of hope. If this was a story that ended on a more downbeat tone or even mixed tone, I know I wouldn’t have enjoyed it at all.
We Are Okay is a book that emotionally destroyed me and left me bawling in my reading chair. That being said, it’s an experience that I am so happy that I got to have and will recommend to anyone else who asks about it. It’s a moving story of grief, what it does to us, and how we can slowly but surely come to live with it by, in part, opening ourselves up to others.

Sophomore Sapphic Novel Doesn’t Disappoint: Interesting Facts About Space by Emily Austin

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Interesting Facts About Space by Emily Austin (she/her) is one of my new favorite books. Within the first few pages, Austin personified a tampon box, lamented the indignity of celebrating baby genitals (read: gender reveals), and made the astute, albeit morbid, observation that one of the perks of being a lesbian is that it’s less critical to vet whether your date will kill you. I was so intrigued and entertained, I couldn’t wait to keep reading.

If Austin’s name sounds familiar to you, you may have heard of her debut novel, Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, which followed a twentysomething atheist lesbian who could not stop ruminating about death. The book was long listed for The Stephen Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour, shortlisted for the Amazon First Novel Award, and a finalist for the Ottawa Book Awards. 

Austin’s sophomore novel follows another endearing and unique protagonist: space-obsessed and true-crime-loving Enid, a twenty-six-year-old neurodivergent lesbian who is deaf in one ear. When she is not working at the Space Agency or listening to a seemingly endless loop of true crime podcasts, Enid is going out with a steady rotation of women/non-binary people from dating apps. She has it down to a science. She has never dated anyone exclusively and is quick to cut people off before things get too serious.

Enid’s most important relationship is the one she has with her mother.  When she was young, her father cheated on her mother and started a new family. At the start of the novel, he has recently passed away and Enid is trying to cultivate a relationship with her two half-sisters while maintaining loyalty to her mother, who she lovingly peppers with interesting facts about space to show she cares.

Early on, it is clear that Enid has some unresolved trauma. She is inexplicably terrified of bald men. She has trouble accessing and trusting her memories. She is convinced that she is being followed. She believes she may have a parasite, that she is a shell for something bad. In the midst of all this, Enid meets Polly, who bypasses Enid’s carefully constructed emotional safeguards and makes her start wondering if she wants more.

Austin does a masterful job of working through Enid’s issues with humor and empathy. While Interesting Facts About Space has several engaging sub-plots, the most engrossing aspect of the novel is Enid’s journey of self-discovery. Part of what endeared me to Enid was that I felt like I bore witness to her reckoning. I watched her grapple with questions like “Am I a good person?” and “Do I deserve love?” – questions I have asked myself. The ability to explore such emotional depth in a book without sounding contrived is a skill. Austin made me feel so connected to Enid that I wished I could continue following her journey.

If you read and love this book like me, check out Austin’s backlist, which includes Oh Honey (a novella) and Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead (her debut novel). Austin’s third novel, We Could Be Rats, is expected in January 2025.

Trigger warnings for discussions of mental health issues, including hypervigilance, PTSD, dissociation, hyperarousal, depression, anxiety, and self-harm; and graphic descriptions of true crime scenarios.

Raquel R. Rivera (she/her/ella) is a Latina lawyer and lady lover from New Jersey.  She is in a lifelong love affair with books and earned countless free personal pan pizzas from the Pizza Hut BOOK IT! program as a kid to prove it.

A Fresh, Queer Take on Crime Fiction: Behind You by Catherine Hernandez

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In her new novel, Catherine Hernandez weaves gripping suspense and affecting emotion into a story of trauma, survival, and healing against the backdrop of one of Canada’s most terrifying historical events. 

Behind You (HarperAvenue 2024) follows Alma, a Filipina woman working as an editor for a true crime series called Infamous, which features sketches of some of history’s most famous serial murderers in the twentieth century. Although trying to balance her relationship with her wife, her teenage son’s moods, and her own health, Alma seems to have a fulfilling life. However, as she edits the last episode of Infamous, a profile of the Scarborough Stalker who raped and killed women during Alma’s childhood in the 80s and 90s, everything left unsaid begins to broil to the surface in her life. 

Soon, it becomes clear that many of Alma’s memories of a childhood spent fighting to be seen, heard, and understood against the backdrop of a manhunt for a dangerous predator are still unresolved. Moving back and forth across two timelines, we watch Alma as a little girl struggling to fit in and protect herself from dangerous characters close to home, and we watch the adult Alma try to cope with her memories and maintain her marriage and family life. Alma’s journey toward healing and safety is set against the backdrop of a dark chapter in Canada’s history and the wider implications of rape culture. 

I have many of Catherine Hernandez’s novels on my shelves, and Behind You is by far my favourite. Immersed in social and cultural history, the novel is an effective time machine: placing the reader in another context altogether and creating an atmosphere of dread as the young Alma encounters events and crimes she does not understand even as she copes with danger and abuse in her own home. Although Behind You is a thriller, Alma is truly central to the story, and the novel strikes the right balance between suspense and sentimentality. Part of the fear that this novel inspires is due to the fact that we care about Alma so much—even knowing her as an adult, we want her to make it out of her terrible home life intact. 

Secondary to the thriller element is Alma’s narrative of coming out and queer acceptance—which morphs into a story of queer joy—the universality of Alma’s queer experience as a young person is not only poignant but comforting. Her narrative is so believable, and it adds colour to a story that has been told and retold in popular media. Behind You explores the experiences of a young girl living on the periphery of a famous set of crimes and the way an atmosphere of danger and terror affects a person—coupled with a cavalier attitude towards crimes against women. Alma’s intensely critical perspective as an adult lends even more energy to her child-narrative, and the two timelines work in concert to create a scathing social critique I found refreshing. 

I highly recommend Behind You as your summer thriller. Hernandez offers a new—and queer—take on crime fiction that will keep you reading until the very end. 

Please add Behind You to your TBR on Goodreads and follow Catherine Hernandez on Instagram. 

Rachel Friars received her PhD in English from Queen’s University in Ontario, Canada in 2024. Her current research centers on neo-Victorianism and lesbian literature and history. Her work has been published with journals such as Studies in the Novel, The Journal of Neo-Victorian Studies, Queer Studies in Media and Popular Culture, and The Palgrave Handbook of neo-Victorianism.

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

Breaking Away from Religious Abuse: Gay the Pray Away by Natalie Naudus

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Natalie Naudus’s debut novel Gay the Pray Away is a young adult romance set in present day, centered around 17 year old Valerie, who is closeted in a very strict religious upbringing (*cough cough* a cult), so if you have childhood religious trauma, mega trigger warnings here.

Valerie Danners—homeschooled since the 3rd grade, when her parents joined “the Institute”—has a love of reading books that aren’t the Bible (discouraged but allowed in moderation) and a serious lack of interest in marriage prospects, much to the dismay of her parents, who believe a woman’s role is to be a wife and mother. Her family’s values are shaped by the “Institute”—essentially a Christian nationalist megachurch whose values are so extreme, they consider even the hardcore Evangelical Christians to be “not Christian enough.”

After stumbling on a queer library book that she just can’t put down, Valerie’s already wavering feelings about her religion are challenged further. Suddenly she’s learning new words like “pansexual,” and reading about characters who express their love without judgment or criticism.

When so-called “troubled teen” Riley, who blasphemously wears pants, has short hair and plans to go to community college, is placed under Valerie’s wing for some ministry and mentorship, Valerie finds her world completely turned upside down. It’s Riley who ends up being the guiding light for Valerie as she comes to terms with her identity. 

Valerie is struggling with a lot of issues, not just her sexuality. Religion has been such a huge part of her life, she’s at odds with how to approach her spirituality outside of her strict upbringing—is there any part worth salvaging? And while at times it seemed Valerie was adapting to her moments of self-discovery and coming to terms with her newly discovered queerness far too quickly, I kept reminding myself that she was already questioning her family’s beliefs and how she fit into their world as the story opened. 

The book includes many heavy themes, and physical and emotional abuse occur both on and off the page, though Naudus softens the edges of this narrative with humor throughout. Tension is high, and I was wringing my hands anxiously during Valerie’s uncomfortable and toxic interactions with both her family and her supposed best friend, a friend who has her own serious issues. As Valerie works through her plan for the future, she remains at odds with wanting her parents’ love and acceptance, despite how they treat her, and that constant questioning makes each decision all the more difficult.  

I found it interesting that there is no exact geographic location mentioned until the end of the story (we only learn the state), which feels intentional on the author’s part. The detail both drives home the point that location is irrelevant, the story could take place anywhere, but it also introduces a sort of underlying feeling of isolation. I especially loved all the wholesome moments spent in the library and its portrayal as a safe space and refuge, not to mention one of the most important characters in the book who never even gets a name: the librarian who looks out for Valerie. 

In the author’s forward, Naudus, who’s also a prolific audiobook narrator, lets us know that she’s writing from experience, and this is exactly the kind of book she would have loved to have found when she was younger.

Content Warnings: Physical and emotional abuse, childhood trauma, religious trauma, homophobia, misogyny, racism, arranged marriage, child abuse

A Paranormal Romance Novella with Teeth: A Wolf Steps in Blood by Tamara Jerée

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“We are the figures of each other’s fairytales made flesh.”
– A Wolf Steps in Blood, page 22

Last October, I reviewed Tamara Jerée’s debut novel, The Fall That Saved Us, a romance between a former demon hunter and a succubus. As that was a favorite of the year, I couldn’t wait until Halloween to read their latest paranormal romance, A Wolf Steps in Blood. 

Over a century ago, a witch’s blessing—seen by the protagonist as a curse—gave werewolves their power. That spell is dying with time, but Yasmine and her sister both have strong abilities despite their mother lacking the ability to shift. None of them have ever met a witch, until Kalta, a blood witch who is on the run from her coven, crashes into Yasmine’s life. Though Yasmine isn’t sure if she can trust Kalta, it becomes clear that Kalta is her fated mate. While it’s expected for wolves to have soulmates, she was never expecting hers to be a witch, prompting the idea that the burgeoning couple could usher in a new age for werewolves.

As a Black lesbian werewolf in a rural town, Yasmine has been ostracized on multiple levels. After watching how her sister has been treated, she has internalized the idea that she needs to minimize herself rather than embrace her instincts, to the extent that she treats her inner wolf as a separate entity to be resented and feared. Additionally, she struggles with an eating disorder, and she generally feels stuck in a life where she tries to live on the down low. 

Meeting Kalta is a catalyst for her to finally explore her identity and embrace her own hunger. For her part, Kalta struggles with how her coven has treated her and her brother. While this book is more focused on the wolves, the glimpses we got into witch society and how it has impacted Kalta, and her arc in relation to this and her grief, were some of my favorite parts of the book. I enjoyed her whimsical, impulsive attitude, which made her a fun foil for the more reserved protagonist. 

As with the author’s past work, the writing manages to be both concise and atmospheric, raw and sentimental, bloody and healing. The intensity suits a whirlwind paranormal romance, drawing the reader into the character’s emotions while allowing for more quiet, intimate moments as well. I also continue to appreciate the way the author writes about darker topics, with a focus on characters healing from trauma. Their romances are as much about the characters learning to care for themselves as each other, with these concepts very much intertwined. 

Despite knowing that this would be a novella with a fast burn fated mates romance, I still struggled a bit at the beginning with how fast the characters and relationship were introduced. Even a little bit more development in the beginning would have helped me get invested sooner in the characters and their bond. Additionally, some of the setup made me wonder how wide in scope the story would be, with the talk about the communal fate of werewolves; with shorter works, I generally anticipate a narrow scope. By the end, I was satisfied with where things ended up, and I also grew invested in the characters and story as it developed, especially in the second half. 

If the idea of a fast burn paranormal romance novella about feral women appeals to you, especially if you like themes of family, grief, and community, then I recommend this book. If you’re more interested in a longer novel with more breathing room, then I recommend checking out the The Fall That Saved Us first, and coming back to this one for more of Tamara Jerée’s writing. 

Content notes taken from the book: This book contains depictions of an eating disorder, vomiting (blood, food), self-harm (blood magic), gore, animal death, grief, and sexual content.

A Debut with Staying Power: Please Stop Trying to Leave Me by Alana Saab

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Please Stop Trying to Leave Me is a deeply engrossing, frenetic, and thought-provoking debut by Portuguese-Lebanese-American writer and screenwriter Alana Saab (she/her).

The story is narrated by Norma, a twenty-seven-year-old, privileged young woman living in present-day New York in the wake of a mental health breakdown. Described by Saab as “experimental”, the novel unfolds over eight months of Norma’s therapy sessions, which are interspersed with short stories from her manuscript. In therapy, Norma explores the “oblivion” that has plagued her since childhood. Though Norma previously only ebbed in and out of oblivion, she now finds herself stuck in it, unable to finish her manuscript and overwhelmed by the signs she believes God is sending her to break up with her girlfriend.

Early in the book, Norma’s therapist diagnoses her with major depressive disorder, depersonalization/derealization disorder, and immense anxiety. Norma’s therapist surmises that Norma is projecting meaning onto her external environment (i.e., signs from God that she should break up with her girlfriend) so that she does not have to do the internal work of reflection. Norma’s therapist believes that this is likely because Norma has experienced significant trauma.

Reading Please Stop Trying to Leave Me was an immersive experience. As someone who struggles with anxiety, Saab’s writing was so authentic that I had to put the book down several times to stop myself from getting swept up in Norma’s chaotic energy. Saab displayed such a high-level understanding of mental health issues and the ways in which they manifest that I was not at all surprised to learn she has a Masters in Psychology. It was also really refreshing that Saab wrote with such unflinching honesty about not only Norma’s traumas, but the reality of being in a healthy adult relationship, including the fact that ambivalence is a normal part of every relationship, romantic or otherwise.

My favorite short story from Norma’s manuscript was “Fertile Ashes”, wherein she charted her main character’s lifelong coming out journey and compared the art of fearlessly choosing for ourselves to the self-immolation and rebirth of a phoenix. I also really enjoyed how clever and incisive Norma was throughout the novel. No matter how heavy the subject matter, she managed to bring levity–whether she was criticizing the arrangement of the pillows on her therapist’s couch or cursing out Joe Biden for lying to the American people and upsetting her girlfriend.  

Saab is a masterful storyteller. Although I found Please Stop Trying to Leave Me difficult to get through at times, it was only because Saab had so expertly crafted Norma’s world that its chaos was palpable. I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone who’s ever wondered about how the mind works of someone who struggles with depression, anxiety, or dissociation, and to anyone who believes in the healing properties of writing.

Saab lives in New York with her partner.  She teaches writing workshops to survivors of domestic violence, human trafficking, and sexual assault through the non-profit Here There and Everywhere. She also mentors incarcerated writers with PEN America’s Prison Writing Program. You can find Saab on Instagram at @alana.saab.

Trigger warnings for discussions of mental health issues, including depression, anxiety, panic attacks, and depersonalization/derealization disorder; recreational and prescription drug use; child sexual abuse; suicidal ideation; and graphic detail of a medical procedure.

Raquel R. Rivera (she/her/ella) is a Latina lawyer and lady lover from New Jersey.  She is in a lifelong love affair with books and earned countless free personal pan pizzas from the Pizza Hut BOOK IT! program as a kid to prove it.

Cell Block Tango, the Thriller Novel: Speak of the Devil by Rose Wilding

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Rose Wilding’s Speak of the Devil is a thriller with a simple premise: seven women (three of them queer) had very good reasons to murder Jamie Spellman, but only one of them left his decapitated head in an abandoned hotel room. Which was it?

Before we start: heed the content warnings listed at the end of this post! There is a lot going on in this book, and despite all my jokes about “Cell Block Tango” being its anthem, it is all presented seriously. Handle with care if you need to.

As for me: my feelings are so, so mixed on this book. On the one hand, I ripped through Speak of the Devil in an evening because I couldn’t put it down. It’s written in a very literary fiction style; the emphasis is on the almost modern gothic tone and rhythm of the prose, sometimes at the expense of individual character voices. (Josie’s voice stood out to me as the most realistic, in that she’s a very good depiction of the mortifying ordeal of being a teenager with emotions, and I adored her.) Speak of the Devil is compelling! The various ways these women are connected to Jamie and to each other all build on each other until it all clicks into place.

On the other hand, there was a run of about thirty consecutive chapters of trauma. This is absolutely a me problem; I keep forgetting that thrillers aren’t structured like mysteries. The trauma all needs to be explained up front so that I understand where the characters are coming from, rather than being revealed in the end game to recontextualise the story up to that point. But it means that most of the book is exploring the reasons each woman might have murdered Jamie, so a huge chunk of it is about their trauma and their complexity. It’s fascinating, because several characters have committed their own wrongs, sometimes even against other members of the group, but that’s not how they’re defined. Ana, for example, has heavily impacted Kaysha’s life, but is an incredible friend and support for Sadia. Maureen was monstrous as a maternal figure, but adores her husband. All of this build-up does work, because the narrative manages to show why each character is the way that they are without excusing them (even Jamie!), it’s just A Lot when it’s back-to-back.

Did I enjoy it though? I honestly don’t think so. Some of the plot beats Speak of the Devil feels very contrived, especially the ending. Rationally, I understand that the emotions and the atmosphere are the point, rather than the plot, but it doesn’t land for me emotionally. Someone who enjoys literary fiction and/or thrillers more than I do would probably have a great time with it! It is very much not a bad book! It’s just a bad match-up with me.

The author’s note, though, is a beautiful thesis statement:

“I wrote this novel because I am always, under the skin, under the polite smile, absolutely furious.”

Content warnings: rape and rape apologia, abuse (physical, emotional, neglect), manipulation and gaslighting, transphobia and queerphobia, suicide, murder, substance abuse, grooming, infertility, teen pregnancy, mental health crises, self-harm, police misconduct, adultery, off-screen animal death

Susan is a queer crafter moonlighting as a library assistant. She can usually be found as a contributing editor for Hugo-winning media blog Lady Business, reviewing for Smart Bitches Trashy Books, or just bringing the tweets and shouting on twitter.

Healing Through Fake Dating: Cover Story by Rachel Lacey

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Natalie Keane is one of Hollywood’s top leading ladies. Unfortunately, with fame comes unwanted attention, sometimes in the form of crazed fans turned stalkers. With award season approaching as the man who held her hostage gets released from prison, Natalie agrees to extra security. To avoid another tabloid spectacle, her bodyguard, Taylor Vaughn, poses as her in-house girlfriend. Is it the perfect cover story, or will fantasy and reality blur as these two women grow closer?

After reading Rachel Lacey’s Stars Collide last year, I was all too eager for another sapphic celebrity/forced proximity story. This one even features a character from Stars Collide (plus a few fun cameos): Taylor, who was previously Eden Sands’ security detail. The story is layered, focused on healing from past trauma instead of the trauma as it happens. With most stories, we neglect that process, going from a dire situation to a rescue to a happily ever after epilogue. Lacey invites us to recognize how trauma can have a ripple effect on our lives, and how healing is an ongoing process. Natalie learns how to build a safe space for herself, even knowing that nothing in this world, including her own safety, is guaranteed.

To be completely honest, the chemistry felt rushed and forced for me. There’s a flare of initial attraction between the two women when they first meet, not when Taylor interviews to become Natalie’s bodyguard, but even before that, as a memory. We don’t feel and experience that moment live, which fails to give readers the chance to experience what the characters felt as it happened. Most of the conflicts don’t feel dire, which creates a lack of tension. Since the story is focused on healing after a trauma, it’s more reliant on internal conflicts for momentum. We get a lot more show than tell (internalizing than action) as a result. Also… there’s an adorable little kitten in the story, and while she becomes a way for the main characters to bond in a cute found family moment, she’s all too quickly forgotten once the main characters start sleeping together.  

Recommended for fans of Alexandria Bellefleur and Anita Kelly’s sapphic romances.

The Vibes 

⭐ Sapphic Romance
⭐ Hollywood Romance
⭐ Actress/Bodyguard
⭐ Fake Dating
⭐ Forced Proximity
⭐ PTSD/Healing From Trauma

Quotes

“I’m less afraid when I’m with you.”

“Everything felt better, brighter, less overwhelming or terrifying, when Taylor held her.”

“Our cover story became a real-life headline.”

“She brought Natalie here to show her the stars, but instead, Natalie had made her see stars in a completely different way.”

Ghosts or Post-Partum Depression? Graveyard of Lost Children by Katrina Monroe

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After giving birth to her daughter, Olivia is struggling—not just with being a first-time mother, but mostly from being haunted. She hears voices whispering terrible things to her, a black-haired ghost is following her in her nightmares, and her body is deteriorating rapidly from her child’s never satiated hunger. And, despite her best efforts, she cannot help but notice that history is repeating itself for the worst.

Years before, her own mother tried to kill her. Obsessed with the idea that her child was a changeling—a substitute left by a supernatural being after kidnapping her own daughter—Olivia’s mother tried to make a deal with an evil spirit living at the bottom of a well, which almost cost her her life at only 4 months old. And while everyone always told Olivia that her mother had been a troubled woman with complicated health issues and a fragile state of mind, she is now questioning what really happened all those years ago, and what exactly is happening to her now.

Told from a dual point-of-view, jumping between the past and the present, Graveyard of Lost Children is the haunting story of motherhood and the cycle of fear and violence that gets passed down through generations of mothers trying to reach an unattainable standard of perfection.

If there’s one thing you need to know about me, it’s that motherhood is one of the most terrifying experiences I could imagine for myself. From being pregnant to taking care of a baby to raising an actual child, I get shivers down my spine just thinking about it. Graveyard of Lost Children was, therefore, essentially my biggest fears coming to life on page, right before my eyes, and I loved every second of it. As soon as I finished this book, it dawned on me that I’d just had the privilege of experiencing absolute genius, and I remembered why I so deeply love and appreciate the horror genre.

I would have expected this novel to be so far removed from my own life experiences that it would have too little of an effect on me to be a memorable story. However, having a lesbian take on that bone chilling role of motherhood and being able to see her, from the beginning, struggle with truly loving being a first-time mother, made Olivia extremely relatable to me, and I found it impossible to remove myself from the narrative. I felt so deeply connected to her, and it made the entire reading experience so potent.

The gem that Monroe managed to create with this novel really lies with its ability to convey how terrifying it is to become a mother for the first time. The narrative took its time to explore the anxiety and the feeling that people are looking at you differently or treating you differently or judging you for every little choice that you make. It then shows how an extremely guilt-tripping fear starts to settle in, making you question yourself and forcing you to wonder if you are in fact a bad mother who is making all the wrong decisions.

Monroe makes multiple fascinating literary choices with this book, one of which is writing a story about motherhood through the eyes of a lesbian main character. It suddenly becomes not just about the experience of motherhood, but specifically the experience of being the person within your couple who gave birth to your child. Olivia is a lesbian who does have a wife, but she is the one who underwent the pregnancy and gave birth to their daughter. This creates an interesting dynamic, because although it is clear that her wife wants to support her and understand what she’s going through, there is inherently a rift that is created between both women. As much as she wants to be there for Olivia, it is very difficult for her to grasp just how difficult it is to be a mother right after pregnancy.

Another indication that Monroe is an incredibly talented author is that she forces her reader into the position of an antagonist, driving the point of her story home in a deeply personal manner. Olivia is undergoing all these seemingly inexplicable horrors that are affecting her physically, emotionally, and psychologically. But, because she is a mother, everyone believes that it is all simply “in her head”; everyone, including you as the reader. Your entire reading experience essentially consists of you trying to figure out what is real, what isn’t, if you can actually trust the narration, and whether or not Olivia is losing her grip on reality through a postpartum psychosis or if there is in fact something supernatural at play. Her biggest issue is that she doesn’t know who to trust, because no one really believes her: her wife, her doctor, her friends. And although you are following her through her journey, Monroe chose to write Olivia’s chapters through a third person point-of-view which, especially in contrast with her own mother’s present-day chapters being told through a first-person narration, creates a distance between Olivia and the reader. By the very format of the book, Monroe forces you to perpetuate the cycle of doubt and pity by which first-time mothers often feel heavily attacked. It is a master class in making specific literary choices that not only make your story more interesting but are inherently tied to the message you are trying to convey.

Of course, aside from the genius that is subtly peppered through Monroe’s craft, she also has an amazing ability to write affective scenes and passages. Olivia spends so much time suffering from bruising and soreness and all kinds of pain that people feel after having undergone pregnancy, and although I have never come close to experiencing even an iota of that pain, I genuinely felt exactly what Olivia was going through. I felt my body aching as I was flipping through the pages, but I could not get myself to stop reading. It was a terrifyingly visceral experience that I would recommend in a heartbeat.

I appreciate that Monroe doesn’t try to sell you this fantasy of motherhood that is all sunshine and rainbows, but at the same time doesn’t villainize or discredit it. It was perfectly nuanced, very well written, and overall, horrifyingly entertaining.

Representation: lesbian MC, lesbian parents

Content warnings: postpartum-depression and psychosis, suicide attempt, attempted murder, thoughts of self harm, thoughts of harm to a baby/child, forced institutionalization, psychiatric hospitalization, paranoia, anxiety, death, graphic description of childbirth, manipulation, emotional abuse, medical trauma