Marty Fink shows how caregiving is activism, disability is sexy and dusty archives are tantalizing in Forget Burial, an essential, highly pleasurable, read.
“The trajectory with their partner or ex-partner and or friend or whoever is not linear; it’s, for some women, this big zig zagging: friends for five years, then date for ten years and then maybe be enemies for two years, and then you’re friends again… I felt like we don’t always see that in love stories.”
“Everybody (Else) Is Perfect” is a bold and complicated meditation on media, feminism, and the internet, written from the perspective of a thoughtful and deeply honest insider. It is also very, very gay.
“The truth is I don’t know how to review Detransition, Baby. Torrey was too successful in what she set out to accomplish. If trans women have been and remain her primary audience then I, a trans woman, don’t know what to say from a place of supposed objectivity. The fact that this is not a PDF free on her website but a hardcover book garnering an immense amount of buzz fills me with a joy I can explain and a terror I cannot.”
Best Lesbian Erotica of the Year: Volume 5 was, in Shelli terms, hella dope and very fucking hot. Our world is so wide, our relationships and partnerships look a multitude of ways, and the ways we fuck? Well, this collection gives you a peek into that.
Allison Moon’s Getting It: A Guide to Hot, Healthy Hookups and Shame-Free Sex is about more than scissoring strangers — it’s about cultivating self-awareness and sexual self-esteem. Hookup culture might look different right now, but communication and boundaries are perhaps more important than ever before. The skills outlined in Getting It will help you navigate virtual slutdom in this challenging new era of distance. And if you want to gracefully transition into a post-pandemic world of IRL sexcapades, then you better start studying up now.
Plain Bad Heroines is a story so much about storytelling that it feels almost obscene to point it out. “This is story-telling, people!” it seems to shout, in the voice of The Happenings at Brookhants movie director Bo Dhillon, calling “cut” on a disastrous scene that somehow fits perfectly into his plan.
Rotman’s comic A Quick and Easy Guide to Consent is a fun, well-written, and much needed refresher that I strongly recommend to anyone with a body that wants to connect with others and their bodies.
Carnal Knowledge is full of the truths you wish you’d learned from your hip older sister if your hip older sister happened to read a lot of feminist literature.
Shani Mootoo is one of the towering lesbian novelists of our time. In her newest novel, Polar Vortex, Mootoo winds the interior lives of its three central characters like a jack- (or jill-) in-the-box: to the point of explosion.
Sometimes, what you really need is a story that understands how grief can ricochet through the entire universe.
A. Andrews’ comic A Quick and Easy Guide to Sex and Disability is a well-written, thoughtful, and enjoyable guide that I strongly recommend to all disabled and able-bodied people alike
What kind of choose-your-own-adventure occurs when a queer lady with an unbending will and a penchant for leaping about onstage with a dagger strapped to her thigh is born in 1816 and refuses to espalier herself to convention? Tana Wojczuk’s “Lady Romeo” would like to tell you.
“There. She. Is.” Glennon wrote in her new memoir, Untamed, when she recalled the moment Abby Wambach entered her life. I assumed that would be the central conflict of Untamed. And in some ways it is — but not the ways I expected.
There’s another kind of revolution happening within this sequel, and that’s where Knecht really blows the doors off the noir genre.
How many times have you heard that we’re “in a new world” recently? “Disability Visibility” challenges us to consider what a world with disability at its core can look like.
Geffen digs into the collision between gender and technology in music and beyond to demonstrate how pop and rock music have been a vehicle for gender disruption for their entire existence.
Postcolonial Love Poem is everything the title purports it to be. It positions itself between the worlds of love and violence, and answers the question of where love can exist in a nation with a long list of atrocities, especially against Native people.
“Writing, for me, is a way of reimagining that which I’ve experienced and creating something new. It’s a way of future-building. It’s a way of taking back agency. Each time I do this in my writing, I think it makes me a little more free.”
Both light and heavy, dark and redeeming, this book is sure to be a comfort and resource for many, as we try to bridge the growing gap between “coastal elites” and “flyover states.”
It’s one of many reasons Shraya is such a singular artist. She’s making work for herself and her communities – everyone else is welcome to appreciate her, but she doesn’t seem much to care.