August and September Reads

Long Covid sucks. So do 6 week migraines and the medication that seems to work to kick them right in the old neurons for yours amping up the fog and exhaustion while also causing insomnia and hypermania (which you wouldn’t think a single brain could manifest all at once but my neurologist tells me I’m very special). The combination punches my… what’s the word… the thing you need to, you know… umm… focus! Yes. That’s the word. Focus! (I joke because if I don’t, I’m going to start crying again). It punches my focus right in the gut which, as you can imaging, makes reading a bit difficult.

Why word vomit all of that? Because I’m recommending books here and if a book made it onto this particular list it had something extra special. Something that defeated all of my neurological fuckery (and there’s a lot of it on a good day, let alone during the last month and a half) and held my attention, and my imagination (which is also pretty wild), long enough and powerfully enough for me to make it to the end. I loved these books enough to hang through a pretty significant physical (and accompanying psychological - and believe me there was one) crisis. So, yeah. That’s how good these books are. If you’re trying to decide whether or not you wish to partake.

Bungo Stray Dogs Vol. 21 by Asagiri Kafka

Bram Stoker is a head and a spine staked on a sword (alright, he has good hair too) who goes all broody, teenage edgelord whenever anyone asks him to turn someone into a vampire which is hilarious and I laugh every damn time (except when it was my angry, sweet, murderous son Akutagawa. That was very not funny and I will die mad about it. And no, that’s not a spoiler, volume 20 came out in October of 2021). 

Otherwise… we’re speeding toward what I feel has to be some sort of inevitably horrible conclusion where everyone is going to end up either dead or worse with Dazai left standing because he can’t die which will be the worst fate of all… Can you imagine… I keep thinking about the possible expressions on his face and it destroys me every time. I’m also very worried about our darling weretiger cinnamon roll and Kunikida because we already know what he’ll do to protect the Agency and his friends (that he would deny having, of course). There is no way this story ends well; it’s clear from the opening panels it isn’t meant to. Alas, I didn’t think I’d care this much; usually with manga, I attach to one or two characters and unless something happens to those particular people, I’m pretty neutral. Alas, I sort of fell in love with the whole Agency and more than a few members of the Port Mafia and now here we are.

But maybe I’m wrong.

Maybe? 

Please?

🫠

Fence Vol. 5 by C.S. Pacat, Johanna the Mad and Joana La Fuente

Hey, Seji and Nicholas?

Boys, listen. Come here, I’m going to wrap you both up in the duck sheet and then…

Ha. Your trapped.

NOW KISS!

Or not. Be queerplatonic life mates, I don’t care. Just stop being idiots. Aiden and Harvard sorted themselves out, now it’s your turn. Y’all need to be secure before the thing happens. And it is going to happen. Any time now.

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydorus 

I… honestly don’t know how to use words to talk about this book. I feel as though I need to plug a projector into my brain (definitely what my brain needs right now) so you can see the images that form when I think about it which should tell you something because I can write fiction about time travel, haunted houses, and the ghost of Marilyn Monroe getting revenge on Kim Kardashian for ruining her dress and non-fiction on the nature of the soul, and gender politics, and the argument about whether the gods need us more than we need them, but I can’t explain with words how much this book meant to me and how beautiful and sad and lovely and heavy and special it was. I can’t describe the ways in which it was different from anything I’ve ever read before and how I don’t think, as a queer, disabled, Jewish person and as a person, period, I’ll ever read anything quite like ever again.

The City Beautiful is one of those books I wish I could extract very gently from my gray matter so that I could read it again for the first time, one of those books I’ll reread anyway which I almost never do because, and those of you who follow me on social know this, I could actually, literally die under my TBR of manga alone let alone novels and history books and the art books… I mean, the art book death slide would be instant, I wouldn’t even have time to think, “Oh, fu-“

This is not an easy book. Sometimes it’s cruel and sometimes it hurts. But it’s an important book. And even when it’s sharp and leaves you bruised and bleeding and maybe actually for real crying a little, it is so, very, gorgeous. 

So, maybe think about reading it if you haven’t already. And, if you have, and it’s been a minute, reading it again. 

Grounded for All Eternity by Darcy Marks 

So. I am a native New Englander born in the Great State of Rhode Island (I know, for those of you who have met me, I don’t sound like one. My parents trained the accent out of me from day one. If you’ve met my dad, you know he doesn’t sound like he’s from Queens so…). In addition, Boston was the first home I chose for myself and, had my husband given it half a chance and maybe tried just a teeny bit to learn his way around instead of relinquishing all attempts at navigation (he claims Pittsburgh is better. It’s not, after 11 years I still have to use my GPS at least half the time though I do love it here at the confluence), I’d be there still. That means I am very picky about books set in Salem, particularly picky about books involving witches set in Salem, and very very picky about books involving witches set in Salem during Halloween. 

Grounded for All Eternity is my new favorite. Winner. Champion.

It’s funny. It’s sweet. It’s about the changes teenagers go through but particularly the ones that we, as adults, think we’ve resolved a thousand times over and then hit forty, look back at and think: oh, shit, here it comes again or, I thought I left that in my college dorm or, I for sure buried that in my parents backyard when I decided I was never speaking to my mother again. It’s about misunderstandings and breaking cycles and going your own way. Falling on your face and seeing who laughs and who offers a hand to help you up. About finding your people and loving them hard and forcing the world to move around you and them because ain’t no one, ain’t nothing, going to take them away. 

Also some kids from Hell end up in Salem on Halloween and there are witches and spirits and a Hellmouth that just. Won’t. Stay. Open. When. They. Need. It. Too. Damn. It. 

And, it’s queer. 

The world building is phenomenal, Methuselah babysits, the parents/guardians aren’t all complete a-holes and most of them are still around which is rare and welcome, and while they don’t always hit home runs, the majority of them really do love their kids and are trying real hard. As a parent who doesn’t always do the right thing but tries real hard? I appreciate the ever loving fuck out of that (yup. Swearing in a middle grade book review. Which circle does that earn me, Darcy?)

Kids, parents, grandparents, found aunties and everyone adjacent will love this one. Do recommend.

Not much to add other than happy reading and I hope to have more for you soon!