This is my incredibly extensive list of books I am excited about or highly interested in which will be published in the first half of 2024. As always, the publications date might be a bit all over the place because I use dates from all places where I can access the books from. Also the publications dates, especially of the books scheduled for later in the year might still change anyway. But these technicality asides: 2024 (otherwise a hell year so far) seems to be another great year for books. There are so many highly fascinating titles – on this list and, for sure, elsewhere. I am especially excited for all the queer lit (from all continents) 2024 promises to bring. For monthly updated lists on upcoming publications follow me on Instagram.
Fiction & Poetry
Queer short stories mainly set in Nigeria? Sign me up.
“In this stunning debut story collection set largely in Nigeria, questions abound: What happens when we fall short of society’s – and our own – expectations? When our personal desires conflict with the duties we are bound with? The characters in Perfect Little Angels confront these dilemmas and more in these brilliantly imagined tales.”
I have read some really impactful Sámi literature lately (Stolen, Fire From The Sky) and seperately, I have really enjoyed some previous translations by Vogel (and her own novel). So this book sounds like something I absolutely need to read.
“In Northern Sámi, the word Ædnan means the land, the ground, the earth. In this majestic verse novel, Linnea Axelsson chronicles the fates of two Indigenous Sámi families, telling of their struggle and persistence over a century of colonial displacement, loss and resistance.”
Eli Tareq El Bechelany-Lynch, Samia Marshy (eds.): El Ghourabaa: A Queer and Trans Collection of Oddities
I deeply love both the collections by El Bechelany-Lynch I have read, so I am excited to see what they edit.
“Seeking uncanny, fun, experimental, creepy, sarcastic, playful, vulgar, inventive, sexual, weird, sweet, and evocative works, editors Samia Marshy and Eli Tareq El Bechelany-Lynch set out to collect Arab and Arabophone queer writing. The result is an anthology brimming with gems by emerging and established writers and an homage to the lineages and complexities of queer Arab life. Multi-genre, multi-generational, and global, El Ghourabaa is an enigma, a delight, and a contribution to an ongoing conversation and creative outpouring.”
I just really love the premise of this novel. It has so much potential.
“At the moment when Voyager 1 is launched into space carrying its famous golden record, a baby of unusual perception is born to a single mother in Philadelphia. Adina Giorno is tiny and jaundiced, but she reaches for warmth and light. As a child, she recognizes that she is different: She possesses knowledge of a faraway planet. The arrival of a fax machine enables her to contact her extraterrestrial relatives, beings who have sent her to report on the oddities of Earthlings.”
Another book which I found because I liked the work of the translator in the past. But I am also always interested in more queer books from the Balkans.
“This is a story of hidden gay and trans relationships, the effects of a near-fatal accident, and an oppressed childhood, where Ivana Bodrožić tackles the issues addressed in her previous works—issues of otherness, identity and gender, pain and guilt, injustice and violence.”
Another queer short story collection which sounds great – and published by Feminist Press, a publisher whose books I often love.
“The visceral, wildly imaginative stories in Bad Seed flick through working-class scenes of contemporary Puerto Rico, where friends and lovers melt into and defy their surroundings—nightclubs, ruined streets, cramped rooms with cockroaches moving in the walls. A horny high schooler spends his summer break in front of the TV; a queer love triangle unravels on the emblematic theater steps of the University of Puerto Rico; a group of friends get high and watch San Juan burn from atop a clocktower; an HIV positive college student works the night shift at a local bathhouse. At turns playful and heartbreaking, Bad Seed is the long overdue English-language debut of one of Puerto Rico’s most exciting up-and-coming writers.”
A new Chancy!
“From award-winning author Myriam J. A. Chancy comes an extraordinary and enduring story of two families—forever joined by country, and by long-held secrets—and two girls with a bond that refuses to be broken. In 1940s’ Port-au-Prince, Gertie and Sisi become fast childhood friends, despite being on opposite ends of the social and economic ladder. As young girls, they build their unlikely friendship—until a deathbed revelation ripples through their families and tears them apart. After François Duvalier’s rule turns deadly in the 1950s, Sisi moves to Paris, while Gertie marries into a wealthy Dominican family. Across decades and continents, through personal success and failures, they are parted and reunited, slowly learning the truth of their singular relationship. Finally, six decades later, with both women in the United States, a sudden phone call brings them back together once more to reckon with and—perhaps—forgive the past.”
I am excited for this queer, Jamaica-inspired YA dragon fantasy. I hope it delivers!
“Faron Vincent can channel the power of the gods. Five years ago, she used her divine magic to liberate her island from its enemies, the dragon-riding Langley Empire. But now, at seventeen, Faron is all powered up with no wars to fight. She’s a legend to her people and a nuisance to her neighbors.”
A queer coming-into-your own novel set in Jamaica, I am intrigued.
“Tired of not having a place to land, twenty-year-old Akúa flies from Canada to her native Jamaica to reconnect with her estranged sister Tamika. Their younger brother Bryson has recently passed from sickle cell anemia—the same disease that took their mother ten years prior—and Akúa carries his remains in a small wooden box with the hope of reassembling her family.”
The synopsis sounds just absolutly wild – in the best way.
“Having recently moved both herself and her formidable perfume bottle collection into a tiny bungalow in Los Angeles, mid-list author Astrid Dahl finds herself back in the Zoom writer’s group she cofounded, Sapphic Scribes, after an incident that leaves her and her career lightly canceled. But she temporarily forgets all that by throwing herself into a few sexy distractions—like Ivy, a grad student researching 1950s lesbian pulp who smells like metallic orchids, or her new neighbor, Penelope, who smells like patchouli.”
Ich habe Dost Schreiben das erste Mal in Worte wie Honig letztes Jahr gelesen und war begeistert.
“Cemal ist Ende 30, Deutschlehrer an einer Grundschule und Vater der kleinen Ekin. Für sie möchte er ein stabiles Umfeld schaffen – was ihm aber zunehmend schwerfällt. Sein Alltag voller Herausforderungen der Diaspora wird nachts immer häufiger durch Träume von seiner verstorbenen Urgroßmutter Süveyde aufgebrochen. Sie zeigt ihm darin Szenen aus ihrem Leben, und versetzt ihn wie beiläufig an den Ort seiner Kindheit: Ein arabisches Dorf in der Südtürkei, wo Cemal bei den Großeltern gelebt hat, bis er als Achtjähriger seinen Eltern nach Deutschland gefolgt ist – zu einer Familie, die ihm fremd war, die er nun aber lieben sollte.”
Fae books are usually not the kind of fantasy I am looking for. But this one – which I believe has a queernormative setting – sounds great.
“Yeeran was born on the battlefield, has lived on the battlefield, and one day, she knows, she’ll die on the battlefield.
As a warrior in the elven army, Yeeran has known nothing but violence her whole life. Her sister, Lettle, is trying to make a living as a diviner, seeking prophecies of a better future.
When a fatal mistake leads to Yeeran’s exile from the Elven Lands, both sisters are forced into the terrifying wilderness beyond their borders.”
I absolutely love Elhillo’s poetry (her collection The January Children is one of my all time favourites) and really liked her last novel-in-verse, Home Is Not a Country, so this is a must-buy.
“Bad girl. No matter how hard Samira tries, she can’t shake her reputation. She’s never gotten the benefit of the doubt—not from her mother or the aunties who watch her like a hawk.
In this gripping coming-of-age novel from the critically acclaimed author Safia Elhillo, a young woman searches to find the balance between honoring her family, her artistry, and her authentic self.”
I have read all of Emezi’s books so far and am just excited to see what they came up with now.
“Aima and Kalu are a longtime couple who have just split. When Kalu, reeling from the breakup, visits an exclusive sex party hosted by his best friend, Ahmed, he makes a decision that will plunge them all into chaos, brutally and suddenly upending their lives. Ola and Souraya, two Nigerian sex workers visiting from Kuala Lumpur, collide into the scene just as everything goes to hell. Sucked into the city’s corrupt and glittering underworld, they’re all looking for a way out, fueled by a desperate need to escape the dangerous threat that looms over them.”
I never knew I wanted to read a novel about the construction of the Panama Canal, but now I can’t stop thinking about this.
“A powerful novel about the construction of the Panama Canal, casting light on the unsung people who lived, loved, and labored there.
Searing and empathetic, The Great Divide explores the intersecting lives of activists, fishmongers, laborers, journalists, neighbors, doctors, and soothsayers—those rarely acknowledged by history even as they carved out its course.”
In some of the description this was described as a queer text with echoes of Lolita – which could turn our fantastic or horrible.
“On a Greek island rich with ancient beauty, a lonely woman in her thirties upends the relationship between a mother and her teenage daughter. Lust and admiration for Helena, a chic older artist, brings Antiquity’s unnamed narrator to Ermoupoli, where Helena’s daughter, Olga, seems at first like an obstacle and a nuisance. But the unpredictable forces of ego and desire take over, leading our narrator down a more dangerous path, and causing the roles of lover and beloved, child and adult, stranger and intimate to become distorted. As the months go by, the fragile web connecting the three women nears rupture, and the ominous consequences of their entanglement loom just beyond a summer that must end.”
Published by one one of my favourite publishers (Tilted/Axis), this queer Korean novel is on top of my wishlist.
“d, a nonbinary gig worker living in Seoul, briefly escapes the grasp of isolation when they meet dd, only to be ensnared by grief when dd dies in a car accident. Meanwhile, the world around them reckons with the 2014 Sewol ferry disaster that left more than 300 dead.”
A queer, wild Zombie romp? Okay!
Chaotic bisexual Wendy is trying to find her place in the queer community of San Lazaro, Arizona, after a bad breakup—which is particularly difficult because her ex is hooking up with some of her friends. And when the people around them start turning into violent, terrifying mindless husks, well, that makes things harder. Especially since the infection seems to be spreading.
The title alone of this feminist, queer short story collection is great.
“In this brash and unputdownable collection, we meet a sex bot trying to outlast her return policy, a skeptical lesbian grappling with her wife’s mysterious pregnancy, and a post-Earth colonist struggling to maintain her faith in humanity as she travels to “Planet B.” Whether they exist in the grounded realism of a college dance studio or the speculative world of Deep Space, these women push against social norms and family expectations to reclaim their power, understand their mistakes, and find a better future.”
Bin einfach sehr gespannt auf Milschs Debütroman. Immer hier für mehr queere, deutschsprachige Literatur.
“Wie existieren in einem System, das ein Durchatmen beinahe unmöglich macht?
Wie jeden Morgen sitzt Selah auf der Veranda und wartet in die Stille hinein. Drei Monate sind vergangen, seit Selah sich krankgemeldet hat, um zu verschwinden. Doch die gewünschte Einsamkeit wird unerwartet zur Triebfeder für Vergangenes und Verdrängtes: Aufgewachsen in bescheidenen Verhältnissen, ist Selahs Beziehung zur Mutter von Erwartungsdruck, Schweigen und Scham geprägt – sie begleiten Selah bis ins Erwachsenenalter hinein. Als die Mutter im Sterben liegt und Selah längst ein Leben mit der eigenen Familie führt, werden die noch immer klaffenden Wunden offenbar. Da sind ungewollte Erlebnisse und Entscheidungen, die wie Phantome an der Haut kleben. Eine Bringschuld, auch wenn Selah gar nicht weiß, wem gegenüber eigentlich. Und Glaubenssätze, die so tief verankert sind, dass deren Abschütteln Lebensaufgabe ist.”
I think the structure of this novel sounds very special and like such an interesting device.
“Structured as a series of one-sided phone calls from our spunky, sarcastic narrator, Luciana, to her older sister, Mari, this wildly inventive debut “jump-starts your heart in the same way it piques your ear” (Xochitl Gonzalez). As the baby of her large Colombian American family, Luciana is usually relegated to the sidelines. But now she finds herself as the only voice of reason in the face of an unexpected crisis: A hurricane is heading straight for Miami, and her eccentric grandmother, Abue, is refusing to evacuate. Abue is so one-of-a-kind she’s basically in her own universe, and while she often drives Luciana nuts, they’re the only ones who truly understand each other. So when Abue, normally glamorous and full of life, receives a shocking medical diagnosis during the storm, Luciana’s world is upended.”
A queer novel of parallel worlds sounds great.
“Raffi works in an observational cosmology lab, searching for dark matter and trying to hide how little they understand their own research. Every chance they get, they escape to see Britt, a queer sculptor who fascinates them for reasons they also don’t—or won’t—understand. As Raffi’s carefully constructed life begins to collapse, they become increasingly fixated on the multiverse and the idea that somewhere, there might be a universe where they mean as much to Britt as she does to them…and just like that, Raffi and Britt are thirteen years old, best friends and maybe something more.”
I love Oyeyemi’s writing; What is Not Yours is Not Yours is one of my favourite collections. I don’t even need to know what this novel is about but I love that it’s set on Prague.
“Oyeyemi treats you to a kaleidoscopic weekend in Prague, as dazzling as it is effortlessly unique. Get lost in the story like you would an unfamiliar city and let it reward you with moments of philosophical clarity, wheelbarrow rides, raw emotion and raw onions.”
I have liked many of Popoola’s works in the past and thus am exited for this new novel (published by the wonderful Cassava Republic).
“Like Water Like Sea s an immersive novel of self-discovery, resilience, and the unifying power of love. It follows the life of Nia, a queer, bi/pansexual naturopath in London, as her life unfolds across three pivotal moments, spanning from her 28th year to a life-altering realisation at the age of 50. At the heart of this gripping narrative lies Nia’s profound encounter with grief.”
I really liked Putuma’s debut collection Collective Amnesia (in particular the poem “No Easter Sunday for Queers) and I absolutely loved her second poetry collection Hullo, Bu-Bye, Koko, Come In.
“An empowering and uplifting collection of poems from groundbreaking and award-winning poet Koleka Putuma, about figuring out who you are and embracing it.
With words to affirm, this is the ideal companion to hold your hand while you navigate all the big questions, discoveries and transitions of young adulthood.”
Do I own another book by Roemer, still unread on my shelves? Yes. Do I want this new translation nonetheless? Also yes.
“It’s 1966 in Suriname, on the Caribbean coast of South America, and the long shadow of colonialism still hangs over the country. Grandma Bee is the proud, cigar-smoking matriarch of the Vanta family, which is an intricate mix of Creole, Maroon, French, Indian, Indigenous, British, and Jewish backgrounds. But Grandma Bee is dying, a cough has settled deep in her lungs.”
I absolutely loved the novel Bad Girls and am just excited to see more writing by Sosa Villada translated.
“In the 1990s, a woman makes a living as a rental girlfriend for gay men. In a Harlem den, a travesti gets to know none other than Billie Holiday. A group of rugby players haggle over the price of a night of sex, and in return they get what they deserve. Nuns, grandmothers, children, and dogs are never what they seem…”
I loved the books I read which were edited by Takács, but I still have to read a book solely by Takács – and Power to Yield sounds great.
“Power to Yield is a collection of speculative tales exploring gender identity, neurodivergence, and religion from author Bogi Takács, who deftly blends sci-fi, fantasy, and weird fiction. “
Tepests Essaysammlung Power Bottom war eines der besten Bücher, die ich in 2023 gelesen habe. Leider fällt der Piper Verlag derzeitig vor allem negativ auf – und schafft es nicht angemessen auf Kritik zu reagieren. Ich hoffe, dass sich das noch ändert.
“Alex schreibt an einem Essay. Und kommt nicht voran. Das Thema: Worüber meine Mutter und ich nicht sprechen. Ein Besuch in der glamourös kaputten Provinzvilla der überreizten Mutter soll weiterhelfen, doch er zeigt nur: Sie sprechen gar nicht miteinander. Nicht über Alex’ Queerness, nicht über die Antidepressiva, die sie offensichtlich beide nehmen, nicht über die Traumata der Familie. Als die Mutter Alex beim Schützenfest (versehentlich!) anschießt, ist klar, dass nicht nur die Arbeit am Essay gescheitert ist. Ein grandios lakonischer Roman darüber, was Familien trennt und zusammenhält – das Unausgesprochene.”
Tsamaase’s novella The Silence of Wilting Skin was a Lambda Literary Award finalist. So far I have only read xer short fiction – and now I am excited for a full length novel.
“This genre-bending Africanfuturist horror novel blends The Handmaid’s Tale with Get Out in an adrenaline-packed, cyberpunk body-hopping ghost story exploring motherhood, memory, and a woman’s right to her own body.”
This is a novel which made this list just based on the synopsis.
Valdin is in love with his ex-boyfriend Xabi, who left the country because he thought he was making Valdin sad. Greta is in love with fellow English tutor Holly, who appears to be using her for admin support. But perhaps all is not lost. Valdin is coming to realize that he might not be so unlovable, and Greta, that she might be worth more than the papers she can mark.
Helping the siblings navigate queerness, multiracial identity, and the tendency of their love interests to flee, is the Vladisavljevic family: Maori-Russian-Catalonian, and as passionate as they are eccentric.
A queer Cameroonian novel? Of course, I have to read this.
Set in a country where being gay is punishable by law, These Letters End in Tears is the heart-wrenching forbidden love story of a Christian girl with a rebellious heart and a Muslim girl leading a double life
Bessem notices Fatima for the first time on the soccer field—muscular and focused, she’s the only woman playing and seems completely at ease. When Fatima chases a rogue ball in her direction, Bessem freezes, mesmerized by the athlete’s charm and beauty. One playful wink from Fatima, and Bessem knows her life will never be the same.
An Argentinian vampire novel with comp titles such as Shirley Jackson and Carmen Maria Machado certainly has my attention.
“Across two different time periods, two women confront fear, loneliness, mortality, and a haunting yearning that will not let them rest. A breakout, genre-blurring novel from one of the most exciting new voices of Latin America’s feminist Gothic.”
I am a bit sceptical how history spanning centuries and an entire continent can be distilled into a book of less than 400 pages, but I am definitely interested to see someone attempt.
“In this fascinating book, Badawi guides us through Africa’s spectacular history – from the very origins of our species, through ancient civilisations and medieval empires with remarkable queens and kings, to the miseries of conquest and the elation of independence. Visiting more than thirty African countries to interview countless historians, anthropologists, archaeologists and local storytellers, she unearths buried histories from across the continent and gives Africa its rightful place in our global story.”
I love books on friendship but the only non-fiction book on the topic I read (at least the one I remember) disappointed me by its heteronormativity. I think Dancyger will offer a more queer take and I am excited.
“Lilly Dancyger always thought of her closest friendships as great loves, complex and profound as any romance. When her beloved cousin was murdered just as both girls were entering adulthood, Dancyger’s devotion to the women in her life took on a new urgency—a desire to hold her friends close while she still could. In First Love, this urgency runs through a striking exploration of the bonds between women, from the intensity of adolescent best friendship and fluid sexuality to mothering and chosen family.”
This sounds like required reading!
“There is no shortage of voices demanding everyone pay attention to the violence trans women suffer. But one frighteningly basic question seems never to be answered: why does it happen? If men are not inherently evil and trans women do not intrinsically invite reprisal—which would make violence unstoppable—then the psychology of that violence had to arise at a certain place and time. The trans panic had to be invented.”
I am always interested in nature writing, especially such focussed one. I am already in the middle of reading this book and it’s super interesting.
“From the earliest cave paintings to the present day, humans and deer have a long and complex history. Royal harts were the coveted quarry of European kings, while the first Americans relied on deer for everything from buckskins to arrow heads. Once hunted to the point of extinction in some parts of the world, deer numbers have exploded in recent years, causing tension between scientists and conservationists. And yet, this is our own story, as the fortune of deer is inextricably bound up with the actions that we humans take on the world around us.”
Leah Hunt-Hendrix & Astra Taylor: Solidarity: The Past, Present, and Future of a World-Changing Idea
Really interested to see a investigation into the concept of solidarity (though I fear it might be very eurocentric, I hope it’s less so than the synopsis makes it seem.
“Solidarity is often invoked, but it is rarely analyzed and poorly understood. Here, two leading activists and thinkers survey the past, present, and future of the concept across borders of nation, identity, and class to ask: how can we build solidarity in an era of staggering inequality, polarization, violence, and ecological catastrophe? Offering a lively and lucid history of the idea—from Ancient Rome through the first European and American socialists and labor organizers, to twenty-first century social movements like Occupy Wall Street and Black Lives Matter—Hunt-Hendrix and Taylor trace the philosophical debates and political struggles that have shaped the modern world.”
I still have to read Red Paint by LaPointe, but am also seeing forward to this queer, Indigenous essay collection.
“Drawing on a rich family archive as well as the anthropological work of her late great-grandmother, Sasha taqʷšəblu LaPointe explores themes ranging from indigenous identity and stereotypes to cultural displacement and environmental degradation to understand what our experiences teach us about the power of community, commitment, and conscientious honesty.”
I do not read a lot of travel writing, but I am interested in reading travel writing from a Black, queer, disabled perspective.
“In their new book, Shayla Lawson reveals how traveling can itself be a political act, when it can be a dangerous world to be Black, femme, nonbinary, and disabled. With their signature prose, at turns bold, muscular, and luminous, Shayla Lawson travels the world to explore deeper meanings held within love, time, and the self.”
Enjoyed both of Lee’s previous books and still think about some of the insights.
“In fourteen essays, Dispersals explores the entanglements of the plant and human worlds: from species considered invasive, like giant hogweed; to those vilified but intimate, like soy; and those like kelp, on which our futures depend. Each of the plants considered in this collection are somehow perceived as being ‘out of place’—weeds, samples collected through imperial science, crops introduced and transformed by our hand. Combining memoir, history, and scientific research in poetic prose, Jessica J. Lee meditates on the question of how both plants and people come to belong, why both cross borders, and how our futures are more entwined than we might imagine.”
I definitely have read too few books around Kashmir and this does sound interesting on many levels.
“Priyanka Mattoo was born into a wooden house in the Himalayas, as were most of her ancestors. In 1989, however, mounting violence in the region forced Mattoo’s community to flee. The home into which her family poured their dreams was reduced to a pile of rubble.
Mattoo never moved back to her beloved Kashmir—because it no longer existed. She and her family just kept packing and unpacking and moving on. In forty years, Mattoo accumulated thirty-two different addresses, and she chronicles her nomadic existence with wit, wisdom, and an inimitable eye for light within the darkest moments.”
I have followed Medhurst’s content online for quite some time and am excited to read this full length book!
“The lesbian past is slippery: often deliberately hidden, edited or left unrecorded. Unsuitable restores to history the dazzlingly varied clothes worn by women who love women, from top hats to violet tiaras. This story spans centuries and countries, from ‘Gentleman Jack’ in nineteenth-century Yorkshire and Queen Christina of seventeenth-century Sweden, to Paris modernism, genderqueer Berlin, butch/femme bar culture and gay rights activists—via drag kings, Vogue editors and the Harlem Renaissance.”
This just sounds really interesting. I love a look at the hidden pages of literary history – and some good creative non-fiction.
“Cairo, 1963: four years before her lone novel is finally published, the writer Enayat al-Zayyat takes her own life at age 27. For the next three decades, it’s as if Enayat never existed at all.
Years later, when celebrated Egyptian poet Iman Mersal stumbles upon Enayat’s long-forgotten Love and Silence in a Cairo book stall, she embarks on a journey of reflection and rediscovery that leads her ever closer to the world and work of Enayat al-Zayyat.”
It’s been a while since I last read Nelson but I always found her writing interesting and challenging even if I might not have agreed with everything. So can’t wait to dive into this collection.
“Like Love is a momentous, raucous collection of essays drawn from twenty years of Maggie Nelson’s brilliant work. These profiles, reviews, remembrances, tributes, and critical essays, as well as several conversations with friends and idols, bring to life Nelson’s passion for dialogue and dissent. The range of subjects is wide—from Prince to Carolee Schneemann to Matthew Barney to Lhasa de Sela to Kara Walker—but certain themes recur: intergenerational exchange; love and friendship; feminist and queer issues, especially as they shift over time; subversion, transgression, and perversity; the roles of the critic and of language in relation to visual and performance arts; forces that feed or impede certain bodies and creators; and the fruits and follies of a life spent devoted to making.”
I share the experience that academia is so incredibly inaccessible (in many different ways) – and I’d love to really read something in-depth about this.
“In Crip Spacetime, Margaret Price intervenes in the competitive, productivity-focused realm of academia by sharing the everyday experiences of disabled academics. Drawing on more than 300 interviews and survey responses, Price demonstrates that individual accommodations—the primary way universities address accessibility—actually impede access rather than enhancing it. She argues that the pains and injustices encountered by academia’s disabled workers result in them living and working in different realities than nondisabled colleagues: a unique experience of space, time, and being that Price theorizes as “crip spacetime.” She explores how disability factors into the exclusionary practices found in universities, with multiply minoritized academics facing the greatest harms. Highlighting the knowledge that disabled academics already possess about how to achieve sustainable forms of access, Price boldly calls for the university to move away from individualized models of accommodation and toward a new system of collective accountability and care.”
Have read Purnell’s writing in the past and loved it, would pick up anything he writes.
“In Ten Bridges I’ve Burnt, Brontez Purnell—the bard of the underloved and overlooked—turns his gaze inward. A storyteller with a musical eye for the absurdity of his own existence, he is peerless in his ability to find the levity within the stormiest of crises. Here, in his first collection of genre-defying verse, Purnell reflects on his peripatetic life, whose ups and downs have nothing on the turmoil within. “The most high-risk homosexual behavior I engage in,” Purnell writes, “is simply existing.””
I am (in Laura Sackton‘s words) a maximalist in all things queer literature (I want more of everything). But one thing, I am excited about in particular are any kinds of books by older trans people.
“For a long time, Lucy Sante felt unsure of her place. Born in Belgium, the only child of conservative working-class Catholic parents who transplanted their little family to the United States, she felt at home only when she moved to New York City in the early 1970s and found her people among a band of fellow bohemians. Some would die young, to drugs and AIDS, and some would become jarringly famous. Sante flirted with both fates, on her way to building an estimable career as a writer. But she still felt like her life a performance. She was presenting a façade, even to herself.”
Last year I read a lot of books on nature – especially by marginialized writers – and I am happy to add to this collection.
“Gathering brings together essays by women of colour across the UK writing about their relationships with nature, in a genre long-dominated by male, white, middle-class writers. In redressing this imbalance, this moving collection considers climate justice, neurodiversity, mental health, academia, inherited histories, colonialism, whiteness, music, hiking and so much more. These personal, creative, and fierce essays will broaden both conversations and horizons about our living world, encouraging readers to consider their own experience with nature and their place within it.”
Have enjoyed Wong’s work in the past and really interested in the perspectives shared here.
“What is intimacy? More than sex, more than romantic love, the pieces in this stunning and illuminating new anthology offer broader and more inclusive definitions of what it can mean to be intimate with another person. Explorations of caregiving, community, access, and friendship offer us alternative ways of thinking about the connections we form with others—a vital reimagining in an era when forced physical distance is at times a necessary norm. “
Many More Books To Be Excited About
Hanif Abdurraqib: There’s Always This Year: On Basketball and Ascension; ‘Pemi Aguda: Ghostroots: Stories; Emma R. Alban: Don’t Want You Like a Best Friend: A Novel, Lene Albrecht: Weiße Flecken; Kwame Alexander (ed.): This Is the Honey: An Anthology of Contemporary Black Poets; Luna Ali: Da waren Tage; Duse Mohamed Ali (eds. by Marina Bilbija and Alex Lubin): Ere Roosevelt Came: The Adventures of the Man in the Cloak – A Pan-African Novel of the Global 1930s; Haneen Al-Sayegh (transl. by Hamed Abdel-Samad): Das unsichtbare Band; Hala Alyan: The Moon That Turns You Back; Kaveh Akbar: Martyr!; Ifi Amadiume: African Possibilities: A Matriarchitarian Perspective for Social Justice; Emily Austin: Gay Girl Prayers; Emily R. Austin: Interesting Facts About Space; Uchenna Awoke: The Liquid Eye of a Moon; Fatma Aydemir, Hengameh Yaghoobifarah (eds.): Eure Heimat ist unser Albtraum (erweiterte Neuauflage)
Biyi Bándélé: Yorùbá Boy Running; Simone Antangana Bekono (transl. by Suzanne Heukensfeldt Jansen): Confrontations; Billy-Ray Belcourt: coexistence; Debbie Berne: The Design of Books: An Explainer for Authors, Editors, Agents, and Other Curious Readers; Marie-Helene Bertino: Beautyland; Lisanne Binhammer , Chelsea Temple Jones, and Fady Shanouda(eds.): Troubles Online: Ableism and Access in Higher Education; Laura Blackett and Eve Gleichman: Trust and Safety; Zoë Bossiere: Cactus Country; Imane Boukaila: Tressing Motions at the Edge of Mistakes: Poems; Judith Butler: Who’s Afraid of Gender?
Eliza Barry Callahan: The Hearing Test; Erica N. Cardwell: Wrong Is Not My Name: Notes on (Black) Art; Vanessa Chan: The Storm We Made; K-Ming Chang: Cecilia; Alvina Chamberland: Love the World Or Get Killed Trying; Jane Cholmeley: A Bookshop Of One’s Own; P. Djélì Clark: The Dead Cat Tail Assassins; Alison Cochrun: Here We Go Again: A Novel; Jennifer Croft: The Extinction of Irena Rey
Miriam Darlington: Otter Country: An Unexpected Adventure in the Natural World; Susan Muaddi Darraj: Behind You Is the Sea; Mary V. Dearborn: Carson McCullers: A Life; Constance Debré (transl. by Max Henninger): Love Me Tender; Julie Delporte: Portrait of a Body; Emma Denny: All the Painted Stars; Ama Asantewa Diaka: someone birthed them broken: Stories
Fernanda Eberstadt: Bite Your Friends: Stories of the Body Militant; Mazey Eddings: Late Bloomer; Carolin Emcke: Was wahr ist – über Gewalt und Klima; Theresia Enzensberger: Schlafen; Emma Copley Eisenberg: Housemates; Percival Everett: James
Ekatarina Feuereisen: Inventur der Erinnerungen; Jillian Fleck: Cheryl; Temim Fruchter: City of Laughter; Claire Rudy Foster: The Rain Artist; Paula Fürstenberg: Weltalltage
Patric Gagne: Sociopath: A Memoir; Franziska Gänsler: Wie Inseln im Licht; César Cuauhtémoc García Hernández: Welcome the Wretched: In Defense of the “Criminal Alien.”; Amina Gautier: The Best That You Can Do; Joy Gregory: Shining Lights: Black Women Photographers In 1980s-90s Britain
Sofie Hagen: Will I Ever Have Sex Again; Kathleen Hanna: Rebel Girl: My Life As A Feminist Punk; Said Etris Hashemi: Der Tag, an dem ich sterben sollte: Wie der Terror in Hanau mein Leben für immer verändert hat; Sydney Hegele: Bird Suit; Mariken Heitman (transl. by Christiane Burkhardt): Wilde Erbsen; Marissa Higgins: A Good Happy Girl; Kristin Höller: Leute von früher
Chukwuebuka Ibeh: Blessings
Deborah Jackson Taffa : Whiskey Tender; Lotte Jeffs: This Love; Julia Jost: Wo der spitzeste Zahn der Karawanken in den Himmel hinauf fletscht; Miranda July: All Fours
Naomi Kanakia: The Default World; Anita Kelly: How You Get the Girl; Conor Kerr: Prairie Edge; Shubnum Khan: The Djinn Waits a Hundred Years; Ihsan Abdel Kouddous (transl. by Jonathan Smolin): A Nose and Three Eyes: A Novel; Rachel Kuo, Jaimee Swift, and Tiffany Tso (eds.): Black and Asian Feminist Solidarity; R.O. Kwon: Exhibit
Myriam LaCroix: How It Works Out; Olivia Laing: The Garden Against Time: In Search of a Common Paradise; Tobi Lakmaker (transl. by Kristen Gehrman): The History of My Sexuality; J Drew Lanham: Joy is the Justice We Give Ourselves; Margaret Juhae Lee: Starry Field; Ada Limón (ed.): You Are Here: Poetry In The Natural World; Darcie Little Badger: Sheine Lende: An Elatsoe Book; Annell López: I’ll Give You a Reason; Canisia Lubrin: Code Noir
Mirrianne Mahn: Issa; Geoffrey Mak: Mean Boys; Mirion Malle: So Long, Sad Love; Kate Manne: Unshrinking: How to Face Fatphobia; Mesha Maren: Shae; Christian Maurel (transl. by Tobias Haberkorn, Lilian Peter): Für den Arsch; Karen McCarthy Woolf: Top Doll; Jenna Miller: We Got the Beat; Katherine Min: The Fetishist; Helen Moffett, Rachel Zadok (eds.): Captive: New Short Fiction from Africa
Patrick Nathan: The Future Was Color; Walela Nehanda: Bless the Blood: A Cancer Memoir; Onyi Nwabineli: Allow Me to Introduce Myself: A Novel
Tares Oburumu: Origins of the Syma Species; Deniz Ohde: Ich stelle mich schlafend; Trish O’Kane: Birding to Change the World; Uche Okonkwo: A Kind of Madness; Jason Okundaye: Revolutionary Acts: Love & Brotherhood in Black Gay Britain; Suyi Davies Okungbowa: Lost Ark Dreaming; Ijeoma Oluo: Be A Revolution; Tommy Orange: Wandering Stars; Andrés N. Ordorica: How We Named the Stars; Ronya Othman: Vierundsiebzig
Morgan Parker: You Get What You Pay For; Kimberly King Parsons: We Were The Universe; Nisha Patel: A Fate Worse Than Death; Elba Iris Pérez: The Things We Didn’t Know; Alana S. Portero (transl. by Christiane Quandt): Die schlechte Gewohnheit; Grace Loh Prasad: The Translator’s Daughter; Christen Randall: The No-Girlfriend Rule; Kiley Reid: Come and Get It; Maurice Carlos Ruffin: The American Daughters
Aisha Sabatini Sloan: Dreaming of Ramadi in Detroit: Essays; Amra Sabic-el-rayess: Three Summers; Yasmin Saikia and Chad Haines (eds.): On Othering: Processes and Politics of Unpeace; Pirkko Saisio (transl. by Elina Kritzokat): Gegenlicht; Baqytgul Sarmekova (transl. by Mirhul Kal) To Hell With Poets; Sylvia Saunders: The Liverbirds, Suzanne Scanlin: Commited: On Meaning and Madwomen; Brandy Schillace: The Framed Women of Ardemore House: A Novel; Leanne Schwartz: To a Darker Shore; Yandé Seck : Weisse Wolken; Nicole Seifert: “Einige Herren sagten etwas dazu” Die Autorinnen der Gruppe 47, SGL: Days you’ll find me (in a place I like to go); Adam Shatz: The Rebel’s Clinic: The Revolutionary Lives of Frantz Fanon; Jen Silverman: There’s Going To Be Trouble, Banu Subramaniam: Botany of Empire: Plant Worlds and the Scientific Legacies of Colonialism; Karelia & Fay Stetz-Waters: Second Night Stand
Amy Tan: The Backyard Bird Chronicles; Maggie Thrash: Rainbow Black; Angelo Tijssens (transl. by Stefanie Ochel): An Rändern; Amy Twigg: Spoilt Creatures
Various: Through the Night Like a Snake: Latin American Horror Stories; Various: Wir Kommen: Kollektivroman; Various: Raised by Wolves: Fifty Poets on Fifty Poems, A Graywolf Anthology; Various (transl. by Shalim M. Hussain): Again I Hear These Waters; Ursula Villarreal-Moura: Like Happiness; Karla Cornejo Villavicencio: Catalina; Taleen Voskuni: Lavash at First Sight
Isabel Waidner: Corey Fah Does Social Mobility; Frances White: Voyage of the Damned; Phillip B. Williams: Ours
Kao Kalia Yang: Where Rivers Part; Kate Young: Experienced