One of those series where the characters are not the least bit burdened by all the deep lore and worldbuilding the author’s obviously spent years dreaming up. They are much too busy with lesbian swordfights and inventing new things to do with skeletons. -Anne
Kathryn and Chris have the perfect relationship. But when Chris tells Kathryn about a crush he has developed, she surprises him by encouraging him to pursue an open relationship. Reluctantly, he agrees. An absolute joy to read; the prose is so light and soft, it feels like a warm hug from a friend who loves you. Next Year never relies on cheap conflict or miscommunication to conjure drama; everyone always does their sincerest best. Rather, the book’s emotional tension is derived from its unflinching commitment to honesty. -Juniper
A collection of short stories about trans women trying to lead stable lives. Far from some generic attempt at "representing" trans people, each of these stories is intensely specific, full of the lived details and contingencies of a real life. Plett's characters feel like dear friends who you really wish would make better decisions, but you understand why they are the way they are and you love them anyways. I'm none of these women, but I felt in each one a piece of myself, my sense of who I mean when I say "we" growing larger, more more full of love. When I finished the book, I held it to my chest as though it could hold me back and cried. Perhaps it did. -Juniper
After accidentally getting his boss pregnant, Ames, a detransitioned trans woman, reconnects with his ex. Together, the three of them attempt to find a way to make a family that will work. A hot messy realist soap opera, and an intimate, unvarnished, endlessly compassionate depiction of trans life. Juniper complained while we were reading that “this book doesn’t just show my whole ass, it's displayed it in museum with a didactic plaque.” Also, funny as hell! Torrey has been showered with accolades since this book’s publication, and she deserves every single one of them. -Anne & Juniper
Max Liboiron’s first book is exceedingly good. On the one hand, it’s a book about the dominant model of pollution we’ve inherited, and all the ways it supposes colonial land grabs along the way. On the other hand, it’s a methods book, thinking practically about the means by which we might practice more anti-colonial forms of inquiry. It’s so smart, so cutting, and the footnotes are genuinely funny. -Anne