While scrolling through the library's available audiobook selections, Upright Women Wanted popped up all queer and colorful. There is little that could appeal to me more, as a reader, than queer librarians fighting fascists.

Esther needs to escape. After her secret girlfriend is hanged for possession of illegal materials, Esther knows something has to change. She can't marry her misogynistic betrothed. She can't seem to change her attraction to women. The only option she finds is to run away with the librarians, who are moral women who travel the Southwest region to deliver approved educational materials to the masses. They will be able to "fix" her, Esther thinks, as she unknowingly hitches a ride with the only people in the country who will understand and love her. Out in the desert, Esther will find family and a reason to fight.

Overall, Upright Women Wanted is a treat. Esther slowly unwinds her internalized homophobia, and her budding romance with the callused, enby Cye is super cute. As this Tor.com review notes, the larger world is sketched in broadstroke with tropes and buzzwords like "the State," "eternal war," "rations," "so we all think the same," and "flags." The more intense focus is on Esther's internal journey of self-acceptance. It was an unexpected delight that no one handed her the answers, only showed her the directions. She had to do her own dismantlement.

Other reviews have noted the stellar metaphors and similes, and I agree in broad terms. However, sometimes the referenced or in-scene homophobia and violence against LGBTQ people became too much for me. Sarah Gailey is part of the community, so I know the writing isn't coming from a place of glorification. It made sense that Esther's mind would return to the trauma of her partner's death over and over. Yet I needed to pause and scream. Esther's thoughts during the story's climax were a study in whiplash: equal parts horror, redemption, trauma, pride, grounded, and far-flung.

Reading Upright Women Wanted made me realize that I haven't given the Western genre a proper chance. The advertised tropes of stoic men indulging in genocide, misogyny, and colonialism hold little appeal. But stories like this, with queer people of color kicking butt and repairing books? That I could get behind.