Books I Read (and Loved) in Summer 2024
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After the audiobook blitz during my hospital stay in May, my reading slowed down over the summer as I pivoted toward physical books. I read a lot of comics, mostly for work, and I also compiled listicles of beach reads, Disability Pride Month reads, and Fat Liberation Month reads [x | x | x | x | x]. I cozied up with fiction, attempted to manifest cooler weather by reading horror (reviews below), and started several books I have yet to finish. Hopefully, those will make it into my fall post!
In addition to this review round-up, I’d also like to highlight Meesh the Bad Demon, which I read and reviewed for The Beat.
Age 16
Three generations of mothers and daughters attempt to define their self-worth in the face of rampant misogyny, diet culture, and racism in 1954 Guangdong, 1972 Hong Kong, and 2000 Toronto. Roz struggles to find a prom dress that makes her feel good and a surprise visit from her estranged Por rattles the careful balance between Roz and her mother during an already tense time.
Rosena Fung pulls from her family history in her YA debut and what results is a stunning exploration of generational trauma, body image, and a deep desire to connect even when your experiences feel so, so different. I connected with Roz and felt for her struggle, but I loved the overlapping timelines and the empathy each one evoked. Beautiful writing, beautiful art, incredible storytelling.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
Brittle Joints
Maria Sweeney’s graphic memoir offers a non-linear exploration of what it’s like to live with the rare, progressive disability Bruck Syndrome, which makes her bones brittle and impacts her joints. Through gorgeous, painterly art and almost poetic text, Sweeney candidly discusses her symptoms, coping mechanisms, and struggles with living in an inaccessible world, including barriers to care, medical gaslighting, and negligence. She also highlights the things that keep her going and make her feel safe, including her dog, partner, and art.
Whatever your relationship to disability and rare diseases, Brittle Joints is an absolute must-read.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
Graveyard Shift
Every night in the university’s old cemetery, five people with late shifts and unhealthy sleep habits come together to smoke and, occasionally, chat: a hotel receptionist, a bartender, a rideshare driver, the editor-in-chief of the college newspaper, and a fifth whose involvement with the abandoned church behind them is unclear until it isn’t. One night, they discover a hole next to their smoking spot. Then, two of them see a gravedigger return and the journalist, always eager for a story, rallies the group text to have the mysterious figure followed…
This creepy, atmospheric dive into the ways insomnia manifests and the means people will go to just get some fucking sleep is perfectly-paced and deeply disturbing. It begs questions of consent, safety, methodology, and even intimacy through the alternating POVs of a strange and strangely loyal ragtag found family. It is, in a word, haunting.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
Housemates
Bernie is a photographer and Leah, a writer. And when Bernie answers Leah’s ad for a new housemate in Philadelphia, their relationship quickly develops into something intense and unnameable, enhanced by their decision to go on a road trip together and document the state through their art. It begins with a pilgrimage to the home of Bernie’s late photography professor, who was accused before his death of sexual harassment by multiple former students. As both characters grapple with their feelings for each other and the meaning behind their project, things only get more complicated.
Housemates is the best book I have read in 2024. Emma Copley Eisenberg’s command of prose is unparalleled and her devotion to writing Leah as a full, complex, fat, queer protagonist elevates the story that much more. I love the incorporation of contemporary media and the Internet, the harkening back to American road trip narratives I loved in my adolescence, and the added layer of seeing Bernie and Leah through the eyes of another queer person in their 70s. Can art save your life? Is your answer to that question different in your 20s versus your 70s? And is love enough? I truly cannot recommend this book enough.
I read this for The Nonbinarian Book Club and also had the pleasure of hosting Eisenberg for a Nonbinarian Tandem Talk on Instagram Live.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
The Pairing
Theo and Kit were childhood best friends. Then they were partners. Now, they’re estranged exes who’ve both decided to redeem travel vouchers for a European food and wine tour they were meant to take together—until they broke up on the flight across the Atlantic and stopped talking altogether. Time apart has allowed them to grow into themselves as individuals, but when they enter into a hookup competition to prove how over each other they are, all they manage to do is rediscover not-so-dormant feelings they’re each loathe to admit.
In their most confident book to date, Casey McQuiston creates a delicious love story with many of my favorite tropes: friends-to-lovers, exes-to-lovers-again, there’s only one bed, and more that I won’t spoil here. They also feature their first nonbinary protagonist, whose character arc is beautifully explored through both their POV and Kit’s. I really, really enjoyed this book.
I read this for The Nonbinarian Book Club and also had the pleasure of hosting McQuiston for a Nonbinarian Tandem Talk on Instagram Live.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
Pillow Talk
College freshman Grace Mendes attends one Pillow Fight Federation match and instantly falls in love with the sport. When she tries out for the league, she never expects to rise through its ranks so quickly as the heel Cinderhella, but developing friendships with the other fighters helps her come of confidence in the best way.
This graphic novel is so beautiful and so sharp, with a great cast of characters and truly stunning art. I loved reading this and following Grace’s journey, and I know so many YA readers will feel so seen by this book. More queer sports romps with fat-positive themes, please!
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
So Witches We Became
High school senior Nell hopes that spending spring break on a private Florida island with her friends will be everything she’s dreamed of—but when a childhood shadow monster suddenly creeps onto the island and then her best friend’s terrible boyfriend shows up despite repeated assurances he wasn’t invited, the dream quickly falls apart. The island’s magic comes alive around Nell and her friends, demanding their attention and their sacrifice lest it swallow them whole. If they don’t feed it the right thing, everything could be washed away in the Atlantic with no trace left behind.
This queer, feminist, YA take on Stephen King’s The Mist is so well done. It’s atmospheric and well-paced, building tension and exploding at just the right moments. Jill Baguchinsky highlights the impact of sexual assault in school environments where peer pressure is the norm and leans into the particular magic of young girls reclaiming their power and coming together to protect themselves and each other even—or perhaps especially—when the monster wears a familiar face. Finally, a rape-revenge fantasy where the rapist doesn’t win.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
The Stardust Grail
Grad student Maya Hoshimoto used to be the best art thief in the galaxy, but now she just wants to submit her thesis and figure out the rest of her life. Then, an old friend she calls Uncle returns with a job she can’t refuse, sending them on a wild chase through the galaxy that unveils surprising truths about the history of the universe as Maya knows it and digs up awful secrets she isn’t ready to face.
The Stardust Grail is essentially a “ragtag group of strangers goes on a quest” story, but the stakes are high enough to keep you invested from the jump. Everything ultimately revolves around Maya and Uncle’s relationship and how it unfolds during the heist. This grounds the more fantastical, unbelievable elements of the fiction and makes each plot development hit as hard as it does. I loved this adventure and I would love to someday read more books set in this universe.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
The Z Word
Chaotic bisexual Wendy can’t settle into the queer community in San Lazaro, mostly because her ex—the ex—is all over every event in town and so deeply embedded in the community that Wendy can’t get ahead of her own mistakes from their relationship. But when Pride rolls around and everyone turns into flesh-eating monsters, Wendy has no choice but to team up with Leah (the ex), her frenemies Aurelia and her wife Sam, drag queen Logan, and silver fox Beau to save themselves from what seems to be a literal zombie apocalypse.
On the surface, this campy horror novel is funny and chaotic and absurd, but Lindsay King-Miller spins it on its head multiple times throughout its short page count. How do the zombies feel when they’re turned? What does it really feel like to say goodbye to people you love? How do you live with yourself after you consciously make a bad choice? What does community mean and how do you keep each other safe? King-Miller examines these questions and more, pushing the concept of a zombie outbreak to its limits in this stunning, evocative, and sharply-written commentary on late-stage capitalism, queer community building, and found family.
The publisher provided a copy of the book for review.
Buy it on Bookshop
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