I just finished Rent Girl by Michelle Tea. It’s neither a graphic novel nor not a graphic novel, but it seems like cheating to actually call it 239 pages, so I’ll settle for 120. Rent Girl is Tea’s memoir of her time doing sex work in Boston and the Bay area. She’s frank, straightforward, and crass, and she succeeds in creating a memoir that doesn’t feel fake in spite of its racy nature and the challenges of remembering honestly.

I would not recommend bringing this book on public transit if you are even a tiny bit self-conscious like I am, because the illustrations are graphic and you might feel a little perverted.