intro
In 2022, I gave myself the goal of writing micro-reviews for every book I read. In total, I made it through 80 books. 11% were fiction, 7.5% were YA or middle-grade, 48.7% were children’s books, 10% were nonfiction, 22.5% were poetry. If you remove the children’s books, I only read 41 books, which isn’t bad considering I worked overtime a lot and had two children I was raising. Still, I know it’s paltry compared to most literati and academics. This doesn’t include books I haven’t finished yet or won’t bother to finish and roughly covers my reading from December 2021 to November 2022.
Of the 84 authors, 55.9% identify as cis women, 41.6% identify as cis men, 2.3% identify as non-binary or otherwise gender diverse. Of the 84 authors, 57% identify as white, 11.9% as Black, 9.5% as Latinx, 8.3% as Native, 8.3% as Asian, and 2.3% as Middle Eastern. 16.6% are based outside the US. 17.8% are LGBTQ+. These are largely disappointing stats for me, as I strive to read as many BIPOC and LGBTQ+ authors as possible. In children’s books especially, diverse content I found in local libraries wasn’t necessarily being written by BIPOC communities. It’s wild how much power the literary industry wields against BIPOC authors. Even folks conscious of its bias have to work hard to move against its grain to impact their reading habits.
I want to keep up the tradition of speed reviews, as they serve as a decent record of what I’ve been reading, allowing me to analyze my reading habits and for all of you to judge me. Enough people seem to enjoy a glimpse into my literary diet, so I will continue to posts these on social media.
I am starting a new tradition of posting a year round up with some stats on what I’ve been reading, as well as the first ever Willy Awards, given to my favorite books in each genre. To qualify for The Willy Award, I need to have read the book completed in the given year. The Willy Award will not grant the authors any professional credibility, but hopefully will warm their hearts in seeing that their work is cherished by a bookworm in the middle of nowhere.
This year’s Fiction Prize goes to:
Piranesi by Susanna Clark
Push by Sapphire
Reprieve by James Han Mattson
Remarks - Competition in this category were steep. Piranesi swept me away with its seamless magical worldbuilding, centered on the soul of a Piranesi, the main character. Push is the come-up story of Precious, a young girl in an extremely abusive home; it made me sob twice and should be required reading for everyone. Reprieve is a deftly smart take on horror, exploring queer characters with complex migration stories and a range of interesting, even if disgusting, assorted folks.
This year’s YA and Middle Grade Prize goes to:
Monday’s Not Coming by Tiffany D. Jackson
Remarks - Extremely deftly written with a complex braided narrative.
This year’s Children’s Literature Prize goes to:
The Hips on the Drag Queen Go Swish! Swish! Swish! by Lil Miss Hot Mess
Paletero Man by Lucky Diaz
People are Wild by Margaux Meganck
Remark - Writing a captivating children’s book is harder than it looks. These three books were a blast to share with Nathan. The Hips on the Drag Queens Go Swish! Swish! Swish! was thrilling, joyful and playful in a way that is so needed for queer children. Paletero Man was a joyful stroll through a POC neighborhood, rich with food and kindness. People are Wild is a genuinely insightful take on how animals must look at people, all in a warm children’s book.
This year’s Nonfiction Prize goes to:
When I was Red Clay by Jonathan T. Bailey
Remarks - This is the hardest category because all of the titles except one of them were absolutely excellent. I am giving this to Jonathan for sentimental reasons; as a queer post-Mormon, I deeply relate to the work. All the other authors, with exception of the Aloha Rodeo guys, are absolutely stellar and I couldn’t choose between them.
This year’s Poetry Prize goes to:
A Snake in Her Mouth: Collected Poems by nila northSun
Scorpionic Sun by Mohammed Khair-Eddine, trans Connor Bracken
All The Flowers Kneeling by Paul Tran
Remarks - nila northSun is my new favorite poet for her non-pretentious soulful descriptions of the joys and tribulations of small-town life. She navigates her audience with the wry truthfulness the poetry world needs more of nowadays, especially with its enamoration with identity politics and bombast. Scorpionic Sun is self-described literary guerilla warfare and propulses forward with a sharp doggedness that will flatten you. All the Flowers Kneeling is a masterpiece investigation on what “healing” actually means in the aftermath of sexual and intergenerational violence.
The Willy Book-of-the-Year goes to Piranesi by Susanna Clark.
FICTION
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison (1970)
I don't need to tell you Toni Morrison is a G. It's banned in Utah. And if you come for Toni, we come for your neck. 5/5
Lawn Boy by Jonathan Evison (2018)
This book stole my heart. It's main character is a working class culturally removed Latino who lives on the rez and just lost his job bc he was tired of degrading, uncompensated extra labor of his job. Evison manages to make the details of landscaping joyous and being unemployed hilarious without blinking at the humiliation and frustration of being in such a predicament. I loved the way Evison poked at the contradictions, shortcomings, and silliness of everyone from the rich to toxic young men to hustlers and more. I also really appreciated its navigation of ability in real terms, nailing the exhaustion and love you carry when a loved one is mentally disabled. Almost forgot to mention: this book is banned in some Utah High schools for being too gay. 4/5
Let The Wild Grasses Grow by Kase Johnstun (2021)
The story of two Mexican/Native families torn apart by tragedy. It has excellent exploration of racism, ww2, the dust bowl, gender, and love. It turned me into an insufferable emo puddle. I love this book very much. 4/5
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (1997)
What a tormented and awful work of genius. At times, reading this book was like banging my head against the wall. As many readers, I crawl my way through a book oftentimes by attaching myself emotionally to the narrator, and Nabokov wields that vulnerability to a nauseating and scathing affect. No one wants to feel like they understand or empathize with a pedophile. Written in luscious, seductive language, I found myself strung by a narrative thread of tension and in full hatred with myself for enjoying the literature, the artful craft of it all. This book is an incredibly useful tool for any student of literature to analyze how they read books and why. Anyone who enters Lolita with the intention of learning something or as some form of escapism would soon get a broken nose, so to say.
That said, after putting the book down for days or weeks, my approach to reading changed. I learned how to take pleasure in the brilliance of the narrative, the poetic symbols, tightly crafted plots and intelligent eye of the narrator, all of which were deeply incriminating. What I love about Lolita is how much it asks of us as readers. It is not a book you can read in peace as you strive to empathize with the humanity of the characters, especially those given horrifically little consideration by the narrator.
This is a book I wish I would have read young with a very astute mentor for its lessons on the toxicity, lust, and abuse some call love. But these lessons are hardly the point. In fact, young readers might miss them entirely, confused by Humbert Humbert’s powerful and futile fits of passion.
This book is banned in Utah. 5/5
Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (2020) *
I have not had as pleasurable as a read as Piranesi in a long time. Clarke drops you into an alternate universe where all the main character knows is an endless house filled with statues and a strange rhythm of tides. The pace is calculated and peaceful until its not. The main character's resourcefulness and general good faith make him easy to love and Clarke exploits dramatic irony to create an incredible amount of tension. Beyond all that, the book is simply beautiful, image by emotion by image. I long for more books that manage to create their own little universe removed from the noise of the world and yet are so worldly and full of life. 5/5
Push by Sapphire (1996)
Before reading Push, I entered the book with a knapsack of strong opinions from the debate surrounding this book. Push has been banned across the country for its explicit depictions of sexual violence. I first learned about Push in an African American literature May term, where it was criticized by the protagonists of Percival Everett’s Erasure, a novel centering on the experiences of an upper-class Black man frustrated that the only depictions of Black people the literary world cherishes centers on poverty and trauma, as if all Black people are is their suffering. Precious, the narrator, initially shocked and repelled my system in one of the opening scenes where she disrupts her classroom. I was worried the novel would not adequately engage toxic aspects of her personality, romanticizing her the way overly woke circles romanticize the toxicity of the oppressed. On the contrary, in the diary-like narration, Sapphire masterfully manages to show the complex bulwark of relationships navigates all while staying true to the narrator’s limited world and language. I was especially impressed with how Precious alludes to Louis Farrakhan early on as a leader who helped her see her value in a white world and later introduces a critique of Farrakhan by Precious’s lesbian teacher. Precious’s resilience in the face of her ghastly childhood and her dedication to her education, despite unbelievable barriers, would endear her to everyone except for the most heartless and cruel readers. While I admit I am probably easier to make cry than your average reader, I have never had a book make me sob with audible gasps and Push made me do so twice. Sapphire describes grotesque sexual violence unflinchingly, making the scenes where Precious finally finds her voice and taps the power of reading and writing slice through your heart. When you have been deprived of so much, the moment you are given access to the power of language, as well as other small but invaluable privileges, can be the most heartbreaking because it is then you realize just how much you have been deprived of. This book unquestionably among one of the top five most important books I have ever read in my life. I recommend this book to fans of Educated by Tara Westover and Gentefication by Antonio Lopez, and to anyone interested in LGBTQ+ literature, literature about education, YA literature, coming-of-age stories, Black literature, fiction, and literature about sexual violence.
5/5
Reprieve by James Han Mattson (2021)
Imo, this novel is just as good as A Visit From the Goon Squad! It's handling of race, queerness, and gender is impressive, as it skillfully unpacks the internalized racism of an international student and tensions between different marginalized groups. The narrative is absolutely gripping and has moving commentary about horror, its artistic role in people's lives, and what a healthy relationship to all that looks like. Thank you to @undertheumbrellabookstore horror club for putting this one on my radar. 5/5
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid (2017)
Delightful and competently written novel about a queer woman's journey through love and stardom with some truly touching and relatable moments. I side eye the narrator quite a bit, but the narrative ultimately pays off, even if it feels like you're watching a reality TV or pop news. Reid's navigation of closeted queerness in these pages is compelling and contrasts heavily with the glam and glitter of the red carpet. 3/5
Strange Children by Sadie Hoagland - This book is haunted. A symphony of voices from a fictionalized fundamentalist Mormon community narrate the downfall of its people and the disappearance of their prophet. What Sadie pulls of here in terms of music and dialect is insane. The cadence and flow will lick its way into your ears. More importantly, this book manages to flesh out the oftentimes stereotyped and little understood Mormon fundamentalist communities pocking the West. Does she succeed? Here's where I'm not sure. I’m sure some fundamentalists would be upset to see themselves once again characterized in large part by violence, pedophilia, and blood atonement. There's always the risk readers will come to gawk. As a post-Mormon, however, I feel a tenderness in Sadie's work an aching desire to make sense of the violent history we've inherited. I was swept up at many points and recommend it especially to folks in Mormondom. 4.5/5
MIDDLE GRADE / YA
All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely (2015)
Banned for its engagement of police brutality and a handful of swear words, I was somewhat worried All American Boys would be overly didactic and hard to get through. Maybe it would be on the page, but at least via audiobook I was thoroughly engaged, enjoying the interactions between the teenagers and adults. The book follows two perspectives: 1) Rashad Butler, a Black high school ROTC teen who suffers an incident of police brutality and 2) Quinn Collins, a white basketball player and the son of a veteran who died in the Middle East. This positioning of the main characters in relation to the military was a wise move, because it allowed them to wrestle with what it means to be patriotic and gave them military and police ties that forced them to look into the incident of police brutality with nuance. Quinn, for example, was the mentee of the guilty officer and shifts between defending him and holding him accountable. Quinn’s journey in this regard is wonderful to watch, because even though he’s very well intentioned, he makes plenty of hiccups along the way, and learns how to handle them with grace. Rashad, on the other hand, has a former police officer as a father who once paralyzed an innocent unarmed man out of fear. This makes the desire for justice and vengeance complicated as hell for Rashad and forces him and all of us as readers to think more critically about what healthy justice looks like. All American Boys does not critique the military industrial complex, and maybe it should, but the fact it doesn’t makes it easier to use as a pedagogical tool, as its tough enough to have a conversation about police brutality in the classroom without introducing another complicated conversation about power. The dive between both perspectives keeps the narrative moving sharply. According to the middle school teacher I know, it’s also a hit with the kids. I recommend this book for anyone interesting in perspectives in fiction, how to write about race, the Black Lives Matter movement, YA fiction, Black fiction, and books about the military and police.
Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Deep End by Dan Russell (2020)
This is Baby Chino's first completed chapter book. I'm so proud of him for muscling through. It's no wonder this series is popular. This kid's life is so awful it's hilarious. 3.5/5
l8r, g8r by Lauren Myracle (2007)
A very catty and engrossing read about a group of teens who get into ALL the drama during high school. The depictions of romantic life are not romanticized at all and it alludes to sex, rather than describing it. It's in text message format and frankly much more tame then the average pop song and what teens say to each other on a regular basis. This book is banned in Utah. 3/5
The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen (2020)
I bought this graphic novel for young readers in my life and couldn’t resist the urge to read it before wrapping it up for Christmas. After a few pages of throat-clearing, Nguyen’s story hums snugly along as the main character navigates a wholesome, awkward young queerness and shares fairytale reading with his mother. I’m impressed with the scope of plot points addressed in this snappy novel. The main character’s grandmother dies, and he experiences the strange sadness of grieving someone you never met and the family’s turmoil as they grieve across borders. Never does the main character get reduced to one aspect of his identity, and we get charming glimpses of his school life and kind friends, as well as his challenges as a queer child of Vietnamese immigrants. The fairy tales included in the book provide it a charm and intertextual depth that kick this book above your average middle-grade fiction. 4/5
Monday's Not Coming by Tiffany Jackson (2018)
An absolutely harrowing book that masterfully illustrates the effects of PTSD and puts you in the gut of a young black girl. This is a powerful book for discussing the epidemic of missing black girls and the ways youth can see things parents can't. There's so much I love about this book and it's banned in Utah. 4/5
Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson (1999)
Written in the voice of teenager Melinda Sorino, Speak immediately places you in deeply familiar halls of a high school that—despite the distances of decades and states—might as well have been my own. You witness stumbling attempts at friendship and community amid a difficult terrain of power, insecurity, and confidence. Speak is legendary as a breakthrough book about a contemporary teenage survivor of sexual violence and for being targeted and banned by conservatives. While Speak does make excellent kindling to spark a conversation about everything from #MeToo to immigration issues to educational policy, readers likely will fall in love with it for reasons beyond the values imbedded in the text. Melinda’s trauma and symptoms are relatable without being pitiable sob story. The reaction of Melinda’s friends to her story models a range of compassionate and heartless responses to an experience of victimhood. While the trauma of sexual violence and her healing journey do define the narrative, the struggle to find your niche in high school is something many of us share. I especially appreciate one of the first friendships Melinda pursues in Speak, because both characters are outsiders who attempt to find connection and truck along despite failing to forge a real bond. The camaraderie of these friendless relationship is something I’ve rarely seen reflected in literature and is captured endearingly, even through their scuffles and eventual dissolution. I loved how the art teacher was portrayed with all his foibles. A supportive teacher for the students, but in no way romanticized and frequently described in unflattering but charming ways. He reminded me of my Art History teacher who I cherished. The scenes most conservatives are mad about I believe are the following two: 1) in one scene, Melinda witnesses a student stand up to a teacher who gives a racist rant against immigrants. Melinda isn’t brave enough to speak up and through the mentorship of this outspoken student learns to eventually speak up about her own experiences in the classroom. Melinda stumbles and learns slowly throughout this process and its tender to watch her growth. 2) There is a scene where Melinda’s rapist tries to violently rape her again, but she fights him and is eventually rescued by classmates who catch the assailant in his act. It is true that the rapist isn’t humanized very much and he’s a pretty flat, blatantly evil villain with rumors about him written on bathroom stalls. That’s hardly a reason to knock the book though since very few writers can write from that perspective effectively and with enough purpose. As for the depiction of violence, it’s something too many of our teens have already experienced. The conversation shouldn’t be whether teens should get to engage with this content, but how. I recommend this book for anyone interested in YA, literature about education, literature about sexual violence, and banned books.
CHILDREN’S LITERATURE
A Blue Kind of Day by Rachel Tomlinson (2022)
This book was disappointing yall. Great message and great illustrations but if want a kid to talk about grief you need a better storyline. Nathan hated the idea of the book and the execution did NOTHING to help. I hate giving such attempts at good low scores but this gets a generous 2, mostly bc the illustrations rocked.
are we there yet by Adam James (2015)
Vivid visuals for otherwise boring storytelling sampling cultures from around the world. Not unpleasant but not good. 2/5
The Bad Seed Presents: The Good, The Bad, and The Spooky by Jory John (2021)
This delightful children’s book follows Bad Seed as he attempts to find a perfect Halloween costume, fails, and then proceeds to try to cancel Halloween and spoil the celebrations for everyone else. Though he’s initially charming, his toxicity is easily recognizable, and Nathan and I immediately shared an understanding glance once his behavior started to act up. The book holds an excellent lesson against perfectionism and just being chill and enjoying the fun, even if you aren’t the star of attention, resolving with Bad Seed reinstating Halloween to a hilariously indifferent crowd of veggies that didn’t listen to his ridiculousness in the first place. Deeply enjoyable.
4/5
Bodies Are Cool by Tyler Feder (2021)
Never too early to teach body positivity. There are a delightfully diverse range of bodies here and this book creates space for kiddos to ask awkward questions about bodies. It's fun to talk with Nathan about what body most catches his eye here and have conversations about how difference and disability don't need to be inherently tragic. 5/5
Call Me Max / Kyle Lukoff / 2019
This is the banned book at the center of the Murray school district scandal in 2019. The book includes the definition of transgender and dares to depict the stress that trans children undergo when they can’t find a bathroom that fits or otherwise have gender imposed on them. I read the book with an eight-year-old and they could reiterate what it meant to be trans to me afterward. This book is at times clearly didactic and includes scenes that are perhaps not crucial to the storyline but provide an illuminating moment on gender. The particle scene that irked me a bit in this regard is when the white protagonist meets a gender non-conforming lack boy in a dress who tells him clothes isn’t what makes gender. The Black character isn’t given anymore airtime which feels weird because Max clearly already undergoes bullying for his behavior and he’s less of a target than a Black boy in a dress for sure. 4/5
I recommend each of these titles for folks interested in children’s literature with substance or with LGBTQ+ themes.
Carl and the Meaning of Life / Deborah Freedman / 2019
I am always surprised what books Nathan and Chino grab. Carl is a worm going through an existential crisis after a bug asks him why he eats and poops dirt. Carl goes about asking all the creatures about his purpose and being dissatisfied by their answers until he realizes he is an important part of the ecosystem and everything would collapse without him. The art was rich and humble as dirt. 5/5
Chaiwala by Priti Birla Maheshwari (2021)
Chaiwala gave me the opportunity to introduce Nathan to the spices @sparrowperchandplay keeps in a cabinet. Only critique is that the book was too short. 4.5/5
City Cat by Kate Banks (2013)
A street cat tours Europe in a highly alliterative and sonically rich journey. They have a high vocabulary so expect to help your youngster sound out words. 3/5
Desert Girl, Monsoon Boy by Tara Dairman (2020)
Gorgeously illustrated book about how culture shifts across landscape and how environmental pressures can bring unlikely people together. It's at a very easy reading level, so your kid can sit back and enjoy the ride. 4/5
Don't Hug Doug by Carrie Finison (2021)
Don’t Hug Doug was a playful and blunt lesson on boundaries with a diverse cast of kids and crafty storytelling. 5/5
Drawn Together by Minh Le (2018)
This book tells the story of a grandfather and grandson who communicate via drawings bc of a language barrier. Very easy read for earlier readers full of magical and heartfelt images. 5/5
Flora the Flamingo by Molly Idle (2013)
Playful story of a ballerina that bashfully copies a flamingo for her moves and gets caught and welcomed. Soothing and warm. 4/5
Fire! Fuego! Brave Bomberos by Susan Middleton Elya (2012)
Fire! was a great way to get Nathan to try a lil Spanish or at least get it in his ears. Complete with detailed pictures and heroism, it gave him plenty to feast his eyes upon. 3/5
Fuego, Fuegito by Jorge Argueta (2019)
Fuego Fuegito is trilingual: Spanish, Nawat, and English. Jorge is a Salvi OG and I'm stoked to see his work evolve in this direction.
The Good Egg by Jory John (2019)
While most children books tell naughty kids to behave, this one tells the goody-goodies to chill tf down and let people live. It's a unique and humorous twist. The depictions of the bad eggs are hilarious. 😈😈😈 5/5
Groovy Joe: Ice Cream and Dinosaurs by Eric Litwin (2016)
Groovy Joe: Ice Cream and Dinosaurs has great lessons about sharing. Easy sell for the kids. 4/5
Grumpy Bird by Jeremy Tankard (2007)
Early this year, I reviewed A Blue Kind of Day, a well-meaning book that attempted to discuss difficult emotions with children yet utterly failed to be engaging in my opinion. Lucky me, Grumpy Bird by Jeremy Tankard does everything A Blue Kind of Day failed to do. Grumpy bird’s concerned animal friends notice him as he goes on a walk, and un-intrusively and compassionately try to cheer him up. I appreciate how Grumpy bird does not take this well at first, which is realistic and relatable. His friends don’t respond with toxic positivity, and the improvement of Grumpy bird’s mood happens slowly and rather unintentionally, without any untrue epiphanies. Tankard does an excellent job normalizing the reality of a bad mood and providing us with worthwhile strategies for feeling better.
5/5
The Hips on the Drag Queen Go Swish! Swish! Swish! by Lil Miss Hot Mess (2020)
Nathan’s favorite children’s book is an interactive blast with tickling art. 5/5
I Walk with Vanessa by Kerascoët (2018)
Sweet message with detailed images you and your little will linger on to catch playful narratives details. It even role models how to deal with bullies. 3.5/5
I'm Dirty by Kate and Jim McMullen (2006)
I'm a sucker for such playful and easy-to-convince- kids-to-read books. This one doesn't disappoint. You learn about tractors. Watch them enjoy their filth. What else do you need? 4/5
It's a Tiger by David LaRochelle (2012)
An energetic children’s book that will have you on the edge of your seat as the main character, your young one, and you run away from tigers. The rich and detailed illustrations by Jeremy Tankard draw the reader into charming landscapes that inevitably will hide yet another tiger. Despite the short snappy lines, you might be out-of-breath by the time you reach the end of this book, as its best read performatively, yelling at every exclamation point. Buckle up the kiddos. I recommend this book to anyone interested in children’s literature and environmental literature. 5/5
Julian is a Mermaid / Jessica Love / 2018
One of Utah’s banned books, I expected a spicier narrative from Julian is a Mermaid. Spoiler Alert, here is the entire plot: a young Black takes down a shower curtain and pretends to be a mermaid. His mother catches him and thinks it’s kinda weird, but later takes him to where there are other mermaids who vaguely resemble drag queens. That’s it. Most of it is expressed visually. There is no explicit gender play besides some mild gender non-conforming but completely normal behavior for a young boy. I loved the rich and tender visuals sure to bring out your inner femme. Nathan was surprised by how shortness of the book but enjoyed the visuals. He wants to be a mermaid, too. 5/5
Let’s be Friends by Rene Colato Lainez (2021)
This is an extremely simple book for early reading levels, outlining several activities two youngsters do to get to know one another. Simple yet charming illustrations. Bilingual. It gets the job done with little need for magic or virtuoso. 2/5
Lies and Other Tall Tales by Zora Neal Hurston (2005)
A children's book full of dozens and playful illustrations. Nathan didn'
Life on Mars by Jon Agee (2017)
Life on Mars was short, sweet, and utilizes dramatic irony in a slick way to give us a clever laugh. I wish it was longer! Nathan didn’t want to read then was bummed when it was over. Hilarious and so so much fun. 5/5
Little Leena Learns About Ramadan by Zainab Fadlallah (2021)
Sometimes these multicultural kids books get too woke and educational for their own good. This book about Ramadan manages to be educational without a cringy moment. Full of delightful images and an adorable main character Leena whose curiosity drives the narrative, this book helped me talk to Nathan about Muslim cultures in a natural and fun way. 4/5
Mary Wears What She Wants by Keith Negley (2019)
Amazing true story of the woman who pioneered wearing pants. Great for unlearning the act of gendering clothing. Amazing storytelling and fun drawings. 5/5
Nighttime Symphony by Timbaland (2019)
Not a bad children's book and a generally competent ode to music, this book lacked some of the lyrical miracle and wordplay I was hoping for. Didn't really stand out. 3/5
Niño Wrestles the World by Yuyi Morales (2013)
Highly recommend this dorky children's book! It even features a ghostly llorona.
Oh No! Or How My Science Project Destroyed the World by Mac Barnett (2010)
Delightful image-heavy, text-light children's book with a young genius's shenanigans. 5/5
Paletero Man by Lucky Diaz (2021)
Paletero Man was my FAVORITE!!! It introduced children to a diverse spectrum of people and their food in the neighborhood. It depicts a largely poc neighborhood as a neighborhood that looks out for one another. And it taught a great lesson about good karma returning to you when you have bad luck. 5/5
People are Wild by Marguax Meganck (2022)
People are Wild is a perfect children’s book that will be an easy sell to your young one. Written in the voice of animal parents, Margaux warns young creatures to look out for humans, pointing out our loudness, messiness, and other foibles. This perspective has the dual power of giving our young ones a kind nurturing narrator and bending their minds to imagine what they would think of humans if they were animals. Complete with short slick lines without sacrificing a message, Meganck has proven herself a sharp writer. Her adorable pictures drawn in color pencil and painted with watercolor give the book a snuggly warmth. Her author presentations teach students the importance of hard work and persistence, as well as asks them to develop empathy for animals, all with a live drawing demonstration as a cherry on top. I recommend this book for anyone interested in environmental literature, animals studies, or children’s literature.
5/5
Pow Wow Day by Traci Sorrell (2022)
A spiritual children's book about the beauty of pow wows. The child protagonist has to sit out bc of illness and learns how to appreciate and feel included in the rituals even as she's left out. 5/5
Pug, the Fibber by Aaron Blabey (2018)
This doggy is naughty and keeps blaming his brother for his mistakes. His mischief ends up cracking his head, so he sorta learns his lesson. Delightfully told. 3/5
Punk Farm by Jarrett J. Krosoczka (2005)
Wish it was a tad grittier and more anti establishment but it was plenty of fun.
Room for Everyone by Naaz Khan (2021)
Room for Everyone tells the classic tale of global south communities squeezing unimaginable amounts of people and items into vehicles. It's told with humor, swag, and incredible sound.
Singing in the Rain by Tim Hopgood (2017)
Unbeatable images pair melodic and dreamy lyrics. Excellent image-text balance. 5/5
What a Party! by Ana Maria Machado (2013)
This book feels gloriously non-North American and has a fun catalog of different national cuisines. 4/5 for slight translationese.
Zoo Zen by Kristen Fischer (2017)
Zoo Zen was a blast. Great for getting kids to try some fun physical movement. I'm a sucker for cute animals too. 5/5
Zora’s Zucchini by Katherine Pryor (2015)
This is the last book in the world I expected Nathan to grab from the library because the boys are notoriously reluctant to eat veggies. He took genuine interest in the gardening process and even learned a cute message about sharing. 4/5
NONFICTION
Against the Sacrifice Zone by Alisa Slaughter (2022)
I, again, found this zine at the National Humanities Conference in LA, November 2022. It’s a ruminating little essay on borderlands, environmental collapse, Covid-19, climate change, and monarch butterflies. The parallels the author draws between the dry spots in her mind, the brain fog, after surviving Covid-19 and the dry spots in a ravaged, dehydrated environment is but one example of the elegant poetry captured in a few short paragraphs. Perfect for a conversation on environmental activism and interrelated struggles. 5/5
Aloha Rodeo by David Wolman and Julian Smith (2019)
I finally read this book in its entirety after realizing it would make a good children’s book if remixed correctly. The authorial voice is at once socially astute, picking up on the logical contradictions of his subjects and noting moments of humor and criticism, while at the same time being annoyingly white and colonial. The prose uses the word “braves” for Native Americans at points and forgets to put quotations around terms like “civilizing” when discussing the colonization of Hawaii. The book reads as if it was written by your averagely racist white person who received decent feedback from someone who pointed that out, and then went and made a good faith but stumbling effort to edit the manuscript.
The information therein is written in muscular prose and was well-researched. I loved learning about paniolos, Hawaiian cowboys, who learned their art from vaqueros. The Latino/Hawaiian solidarity was something I didn’t expect. What I appreciate most about this book is its eye towards intercultural clashes, as the West was settled. As much as I have my reservations about animal welfare and steer roping, Aloha Rodeo contextualizes them with clear, nonjudgmental eyes that made me appreciate the artistry. 2.5/5
Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe (2019)
This book reminded me a painful lot about Selina Foster. I wonder how much pain it would've saved them. It's a funny, down to earth and gutsy graphic novel about discovering you asexuality and gender queerness. And it's banned in Utah. 5/5
High-Risk Homosexual by Edgar Gomez (2022)
Hailing from Nicaragua and Puerto Rico, Gomez shares rough-and-tumble coming-of-age and coming out stories that will squish the goo and glitter out of your heart. High-Risk Homosexual is young, brown, and broke and these aspects in particular will grant Gomez a fawning audience of young queers, eager to see their experiences reflected. At Under the Umbrella Bookstore in Salt Lake City, a fellow Latina from Florida shared with Gomez how she, too, had to come out to her mother more than once. While my mother only threatened to send me to El Salvador when she realized my first partner was LGBTQ+, Gomez was sent to Nicaragua as a teenage boy to be “made a man” by his macho tios and have his virginity taken by a local teenage girl. Lucidly written and deeply readable, High-Risk Homosexual doesn’t waste time with literary flexing, instead expanding and contracting scenes and reflection with concision and precision. Written by someone without significant queer role models around him, Gomez’s memoir outlines how he learned the hard way to build healthy relationships and love himself, bouncing between self-acceptance and hiding, love and disappointment. Like many of us, Gomez at first sometimes tried to distinguish himself apart from other queers who were too gay, too flamboyant, too feminine, too sexually promiscuous in ways that weren’t productive. In reading this memoir, I suspect and hope that young readers will find not only cautionary tales on what liquors and men to avoid, but also strategies for how to build authentic support and community for themselves. This memoir does the work that many good memoirs do—showing us what privations and shames we share, making the burden easier for all of us to bear. I have pitched this review around young readers because Gomez himself positions the book that way, ending with a reflection on the “It gets better” narrative traditionally fed to queer children clawing for hope in a terrifyingly hateful world. Here, I wanted Gomez to expand further because his stories, while certainly useful for young queers, are also invaluable to the world at large. This industry is quick to box the audiences for BIPOC and LGBTQ+ authors, and I want Gomez to be cherished by readers beyond a publicist’s imagination. Beyond that, there’s very little for me to critique here. Memoirs are usually best written by authors aged with wisdom, and what Gomez has pulled off here while barely cracking thirty is more than impressive—it’s masterful. I recommend High-Risk Homosexual to fans of Danez Smith, Justin Torres, and Ocean Vuong, folks interested in LGBTQ+ literature, YA, Memoir, Latinx literature, Florida, the Pulse Massacre, Central American literature, and Caribbean literature. 4/5
Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi (2003)
Nafisi's memoir is a crucial read for anyone wrestling with how to keep their humanity intact in the face of an oppressive regime. Nafisi painstakingly narrates the way Austen, Nabokov, Fitzgerald, and other Western classics allowed her and her students to dream the forbidden in times when their options were quickly narrowing. She made me fall in love with the traditional literary canon in a way I have largely chosen not to for years. It is nauseating and infuriating to realize how many theocratic Iranian arguments against books are being parroted by folks like Utah Parents United and all the book banners out there. Reader, if today's political landscape numbs you, if you feel yourself hardening and losing pieces of yourself, open a book, maybe this one. We cannot find our ways out of this hellscape without our whole selves, our feelings, alive. 5/5
Unwell Women by Elinor Cleghorn (2021)
An infuriating and heartfelt journey through how men have ignored, exacerbated, and caused indescribable amounts of humiliation and suffering for women as a whole. If it were up to me, this book is where we would begin in educating men about feminism. Because it shows how life and death feminism is for women. Because women's bodies have been stigmatized and mystified in ways that deserve concrete breakdowns of the consequences of sexism beyond liberal conversations of privilege and identity. Because my autocorrect keeps changing sexism to seismic. Because sexism IS seismic. Because two of my previous partners had vaginismus and the medical system was useless in addressing their concerns. Because they're about to overturn Roe vs Wade. Because while these conversations will butt into religious and cultural arenas, it will show the awful consequences of not believing women when they're in pain and not allowing them autonomy over their bodies. 4.5/5
Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer (2003)
Holy shit. What an important read when it comes to frankly discussing cultures of violence in Mormon religions at large. People inside the culture of Mormonism will probably recognize the terms Blood Atonement and Mountain Meadows Massacre. The depth in contextualizing this violence within larger Mormon cultures and events was mindblowing. This book contextualizes the Elizabeth Smart case and the Lafferty murders within traditions of violence. It sincerely grapples with how you keep a mystic religion from snapping under the weight of democratic revelation. It made me sincerely grapple with the argument of whether or not the Lafferty men were sane enough to stand trial. I can see this book pissing many Mormons off, as it focuses heavily on the dark underbelly of Mormonism. The history and legacy of polygamy can't be avoided however. My biggest critique is AGAIN a refusal of historians to see Mormons of color as authentic Mormons, especially including an erasure of Native Mormon stories, like Washakie, the Bear River Massacre, etc. There's nuance to unpack here and I'm tired of historians acting like the ways people of color practiced Mormonism as not worthy of note. 4/5
When I was Red Clay by Jonathan T Bailey (2022)
My favorite book about the Utah queer experience. I read this ravenously and with my heart nuzzling my face. 6/5
POETRY
All the Flowers Kneeling by Paul Tran (2022)
Incredibly burning debut by a powerhouse poet. The entire collection grapples with the meaning of "healing" after sexual violence. It really digs deep into the ways we sometimes get in the way of our own healing. 4.5/5
Border Vista by Anni Liu (2022)
One of my favorite poets with a collection about being precariously documented, overcoming different forms of relational violence, and navigating Chinese and American culture. Even at its heaviness, Liu has this way of making you feel like you're floating.
Cenizas by Cynthia Guardado (2022)
Cynthia Guardado’s growth between her debut collection of poetry Endeavor and Cenizas is dramatic and rewarding—a remarkable feat for someone whose talent and craft were never in question. Cenizas is a tight-knit collection, largely centering on the challenge of grieving loved ones, especially across fronteras, where the possibility of closure is swiftly denied by racist immigration law. Written in Guardado’s signature lucid and plaintive voice, Cynthia’s poems confront violence with a disarmingly straightforward style. Sit with it, her poems ask you, a necessary act for all of us as we shoulder the losses of this world, whether that’s Guardado’s own dying relationship with her abuelo or the history of genocide hidden in La Puerta del Diablo. Along the way, we trace a map of the way the Salvadoran Civil War and migration has shaped the life of Guardado and her family. Guardado includes a couple of ekphrastic poems that capture scenes from the war, which she connects to the experiences of her and her family. There is also a series of poems contemplating her name and meditating on the in-betweenness, the liminality, so frequently discussed in Latinx literatures. Guardado’s work occupies this zone more authentically than many or perhaps she expresses this sensation more effectively than most. Perhaps it’s the way she includes whole stanzas and poems in Spanish, alternating between languages unapologetically centering the bilingual reader. Perhaps it’s the grief and the way Guardado seems constantly displaced throughout this collection. The “Call Me Refugee” series accomplish all of the above with the added punch of its title, which points to the fact that Salvadorans have historically been denied refugee status in the United States despite the fact our people are clearly refugees of a US-funded Cold War. Cenizas holds its own against Javier Zamora’s Unaccompanied, and both poetry collections illuminate the complexities of Salvadoran experiences alongside one another. While I have yet to read Alexandra Regalado’s Relinqueda, I suspect these two collections would speak to one another immensely, as Regalado’s collection also close as Regalado’s collection also closely examines grief. I recommend Guardado’s collection to anyone interested in sequencing in poetry collections, elegies and poems about grieving, Latinx literature, Central American literature, and war literature. 3/5
Conflict Resolutions for Holy Beings by Joy Harjo (2015)
The most significant thing about Joy Harjo’s work in my brief dives into it is her authoritative wisdom, which allows her to break so many rules. What would be didactic goo from one writer is rendered a pearl of wisdom in her hands. Halfway through reading this book, I realized to my great delight that many of the poems therein double as song lyrics, which you can find on Spotify, read in a hearty jazzy-and-yet-somehow-folksy spoken word style. Simultaneously plainspoken and mythic, Joy’s collection is one I want to thrust into the hands of young poets hellbent on killing themselves with their lust, passion, and ambitions. 4.5/5
Dearest Water by Nancy Takacs (2022)
The last section of the book includes two sublime longer poems and would be a 5/5 as its own little chapbook. The collection made me want to read Alberto Rios.
Felon by Reginald Dwayne Betts (2019)
These poems give readers a glimpse into the ways the prison system will follow you via labels, nightmares, psychological trauma, and more, even decades after you leave your cell. Generous yet snappy read. There's a reason folks consider Betts a GOAT. This book is only one of them. 3/5
if not, winter: Fragments of Sappho by Anne Carson (2002)
One of the lost legends of lesbian poetry, Anne Carson provides notes and translations for what we have left. Which isn't a lot and isn't very satisfying, while at the same time feeling very urgent and meaningful. This is a great place to start for understanding the what remains and is full of lyrical glimpses of imagery, sound and diction. 3/5
Islanders by Teow Lim Goh (2016)
Drawing from a rich archive of voices, Goh taught me some of the details involved in early twentieth century Chinese migration to the US. Most interestingly, she directs the reader to a book where you could read the poems Chinese migrants left in the walls of their detention centers as they awaited either entry into the US or deportation. This book taught me about common situations migrants from China faced. While Goh manages to include a sizeable array of voices, she failed to move beyond their outline and didn't really give any of the characters depth or personhood beyond their migratory circumstances. 1.8/5
Live Oak, With Moss by Walt Whitman (2019)
A gift from Nush. This book made me fall in love with Walt Whitman for real. The artistic accompaniments are perfect. The scholarly treatment of Whitman's queerness is generous and will save you decades of wondering. 5/5
Love at Gunpoint by nila northSun (2007)
northSun is my favorite poet and I'm terrified that she seems largely forgotten by the literary world. I encountered her by happenstance this year when researching Shoshone literature for a work project and have been mesmerized by her plainspoken poems. Forget the bombast, arrogance, and ambition of the literary establishment. Here's a poet whose voice is nimble and pointed. I laugh and cry to her poems. She changes the way I breathe. In this collection, she tackles surviving domestic violence, but also has poems about dancing in granny panties. I'm gonna go buy another book of hers and you should too. 5/5
The New Song of Silence by Anastasia Afanasieva (2022)
I found this zine in the National Humanities Conference in LA, November 2022. It’s the poem of a reputed Ukrainian poet who mainly wrote in Russian. Halfway through the poem, she abandons her mother tongue, Russian, and swears to never write in it anymore, electing Ukrainian instead. This powerful move is at the heart of a poem documenting the toll of warfare on her city. It’s breathtakingly powerful in its translation. 4/5
Rain Scald by Tacey Atsitty (2018)
This collection is a feat. There's an authority and steady-eyed strength to the voice throughout. These poems might be a touch opaque here and there, but I'm confident these are my shortcomings as a reader. Use the notes on the back as you read. Do plenty of rereading. Several of these poems musically enchanted yet mystified me and later cracked open fiercely on rereading. Notably, this book appears to carry a marriage of Dine and Mormon ideologies and beliefs. In the notes, there's discussion of the "opportunity" Native children had to live with white Mormon families, as well as a reference to masturbation with the stodgy term "self-abuse." 4/5
The Salted Woman by Pauline Peters (2021)
Gifted to me by Nan Seymour, Pauline Peters’ short collection is appropriately lush, mythic, and sensual in its odes to nature and darkness. An African Canadian, Peters’ mystic interpretation of blackness and darkness in nature also serves as a sort of ontological thesis on the depths and genius of Blackness. Nature not only gives Peters access to her deeper wiser selves, but also connections to her ancestors, so this connection happens naturally, seamlessly. It is as obvious as it may be surprising for some. Here are some lines in particular that have stayed with me: “Night paints us with her blue-black ink / hides glaring errors lest we think / we are the sum of our mistakes. / No. We are all beautiful in the dark.” It’s almost as if in spiritual communion with night and nature, Peters imagines non-Black folks can approach a Blackness. This from “O Holy Night,” a poem that contrasts the whiteness of day with the luscious, peace of night.
Nature is at times romanticized in this collection, anthropomorphized as well. This is familiar territory for myth-making and making sense of nature. Peters wields it with the gush and gusto of a witchy grandmother. I trust her with her magic, even if another literary critic might sniff at the collection’s humility.
Peters also invokes wakes in similar ways to Dr. Rebecca Hall in Wake: The Hidden History of Women-Led Slave Revolts, especially in “Guardians.” I imagine Peters’ poetry would make an excellent accompaniment to Sadiya Hartman’s prose in a discussion about Black spirituality, nature, history, and time. I strongly encourage this book for anyone interested in environmental literature, especially Black perspectives therein, Canadian literature, poetry, and spiritual literature.
Here’s a gorgeous line to end the review: “They say the gods never give you more than you can carry – I say the gods need help too.” 4.5/5
Scorpionic Sun by Mohammed Khair-Eddine, trans Connor Bracken (2019)
A Moroccan writer of French poetry with leftist politics and an image heavy machine gun style. What else do you need to know? This poetry is disorienting, passionate, and lives in the gut and throat. You'll need to look up words, sometimes up to 4 to 8 times in a single poem. The poems are long, sometimes 16 pages and dive between prose and enjambments. I read some aloud for Nush and it brought out an exhausting but electric performance from me. Reading aloud helped me sink into the emotion and rhythm. Reading in my head sometimes felt like getting swallowed and spat out by a tide: fun as hell, even if a little painful, and the details got gobbled by the sea. The poem for Cesaire was gorgeous and fiery. This is overwritten in the best way and proud you don't need to understand everything 100% in your head to feel it burning in your heart. 4.5/5
Sink by Desiree Dellagiacomo
These poems spill and warp over pages like water. Skeptics of slam will be relieved by the solid skills on the page. Covering themes of suicide, growing up in a broke and at times violent family, the healing this book offers is priceless. Highlights include 13 ways of looking at a rapist and the viral My Thighs. 3.5/5
Small Bones, Little Eyes by nila northSun and Jim Sagel (1981)
I purchased this book as a salve to a bout of depression and frustration, as I’ve found that nila’s voice centers me in my love for literature and this world more than most anyone. At first, I was shy to read Jim Sagel in the same book, since I’m unfamiliar with his work and really just wanted to hang out with nila, but I was pleasantly surprised to find what a powerful pairing they are together. Here’s one thing I haven’t yet said about nila’s work that I think is part of what draws me to it: while other authors may dispel stereotypes or try to provide them with greater depth, nila engages stereotypes with love that doesn’t tiptoe. It’s a shame our drunks can’t even just be broken drunks and instead must carry the additional shame of being a stereotype, a burden on their own. There’s a love nila carries, allowing people to be what they are without doing a racial tap dance. There’s a love in nila I feel extended to me, to all of us. Some about Jim so he doesn’t feel shortchanged: he has incredible poetry about naming in this collection, gorgeous portraits of different rural and rez characters that just vibrate off the page. “chocolate atole” might be the best poem I’ve read this year. 5/5
SNAKE IN HER MOUTH by nila northSun (1997)
These poems feel hot and dry inside your mouth as the Nevada desert. Each written in a characteristically thin stanza or a few, the simplicity and directness of the diction is sharp as a cacti pine. One of my new favorite poets, especially among Native writers. She's Chippewa Shoshone. 6/5
Winged Insects by Joel Long (1999)
Joel Long is a legend in Utah, spoken of in adoring tones, and up until I started reading this collection, I had little understood why as I had only watched him read briefly once and from a prose manuscript. It was good, but hardly, worth the twinkle in the eyes of his admirers. Winged Insects more than justifies the adoration. The collection ranges from sensual poems about nature, elegies for lost loved ones, erotic poetry to fatherhood poems. Each fit together, narrated in a thoughtful voice, full of wonder and love for his surroundings. Soulful, lyric, and rigorously written, it’s no wonder Long is considered the friendly neighborhood poet genius throughout Utah. I’m looking forward to picking up more of his work. For fans of Ross Gay, Nan Seymour, and Jamaal May. 4.5/5