“I Must Be Living Twice” is a strong place to first get acquainted with every aspect of Eileen Myles’ work, but it’s also a deeper look into her story for those of us who have been attempting to follow it all along.
If smart, well-written theatrics are your thing, you’re in for a fun ride with Don’t Bang the Barista!
It’s the kind of book that takes hold of you. Chelsea Girls is like sitting in someone else’s heart and mind as they go back through an entire lifetime of becoming who they are in that moment, and those are the kinds of moments you can’t just walk into and out of at random.
Read these f*cking books.
In 26 slight pages, Rabbit Rabbit chronicles a personal unraveling, offering insightful treatment of the intricate connections between family and trauma.
The names of the main characters, Nic and Battle, were gender neutral enough that I projected heterosexuality onto them, not yet knowing that gay YA lit was something even there to be looked for.
Despite its shortcomings when it comes to theory, the story does the important work of allowing the characters to ask questions and struggle with their identities.
If you’re interested in seeing the complexities of polyamorous relationships interpreted through the lens of speculative fiction, or in reading a quietly queer sci-fi great’s exploration of sexual fluidity, Fledgling will be up your alley.
“Zombies signify failure — of political will and social cohesion, of technology and medicine, of the human body and soul. These are all topics that are being battled over right now, among people who care about all three worlds that this series occupies: science fiction, feminism, and bicycling.”
From figuring out your own gender politics to launching massive campaigns and everything in-between, these books have your back as queer people, women, people of color, and other folks living at the intersections. The bonus? They’re also all badass as f*ck.
The Gilda Stories was published in 1991 and hasn’t been out of print since — it uses the vampire myth to tackle new themes, including Black American life and queerness.
This book is not a manual to create The Feminist Utopia; it is a process that you are invited to share in.
A Theory of Small Earthquakes is a novel about bisexuality, family, and secrets, with a narrative that’s quite different from the typical work of women’s fiction.
Can you resist a title as snarky as Life Is Wonderful, People Are Terrific? I couldn’t, especially when the book was written by spoken-word champion and award-winning filmmaker Meliza Bañales.
I’d known for a while that my colleague Colleen McKee had a book out, and one day I bought a copy from her in the break room. When I learned that it combined memoir, poetry, and fiction, I had one burning question: “Who let you do that?!”
A smart and eloquent memoir about becoming butch, Leaving Normal: Adventures in Gender will resonate if you have a proud copy of Stone Butch Blues on your shelf, or listen to “Ring of Keys” from the Fun Home musical on repeat.
What It Feels Like for a Girl centers on two 13-year-olds who meet in gym class: the narrator, addressed in a piercing second person that has the effect of melding our stories with hers, and precocious Angel, who guides her through a labyrinth of sexual exploration via magazines and videos.
Merritt Kopas’s Videogames for Humans is an illuminating, personal look at Twine games and what the future of games could look like.
In a multigenerational, transcontinental tale, Bright Lines weaves together issues of gender and sexuality across cultures, migration, in/dependence, family secrets, conflict and tragedy, and well, botany.
These 30 essays provide important context and understanding of individuals, movements and moments that formed the greater whole of a long fight for queer liberation, one that is far from over but which has made incredible strides in just a few decades.