You know? I’m glad I read this! I was captivated by how easily Åstot was able to capture not only the reactions of her teenage cast(seriously, none of them felt out of place for 16-17 year olds, I thought that was thought-out!), but the longing of them. Of course, in the context of the story’s romance plot, the focus is on Ánte’s emotions when I make that second point.

I also loved the descriptions!! The Sámi culture strewn in throughout felt so lively, there were several mentions of not just traditions but cultural clothing and the like throughout. I also felt totally immersed in the Swedish setting. And I don’t know how else to describe it, but sometimes in different scenes, there were these little actions done by Ánte (like setting a glass down in the sink and hearing it clink) that made him feel more human.

My only drawbacks are that I thought the translation made the writing feel a little strange or janky at times, the ending felt abrupt, and I wish there was more closure on Ánte’s conflict with his dad specifically. I’m bummed I can’t experience this in its original Swedish text(I don’t know the language lol), but I still thought this was a solid book! Surprised at how little it’s been reviewed and talked about. Perhaps I’ll check out more by this author, if her other works get translated. I also want to read more nonfiction about the Sámi people, which while it’s in part because of this book, it’s also because they get largely glossed over in the scope of Swedish/Scandinavian history. (But having a queer book like this centering them is super important, too!)

Can’t really write a proper review for a standard informative nonfiction book like this, but all I’ll say is that if any transmasc people are early in their transition or contemplating options, please check this out!!! (Me personally, I have horrific dysphoria and medically transitioning might turn out to be a life-or-death for me, but I haven’t thought of it super often due to “not feeling dysphoric enough” for most of my time knowing I was under the trans umbrella, so I’d say this reached the right demographic.) Its style is easy to read, each chapter is cohesive and there was so much vital information throughout (backed with pages of references that are listed at the end)! I appreciated the occasional visuals, too. 

Anyhow, for those this book might benefit that want a personal reference for different physical transition steps/questions outside of Google, I think this works pretty well.

Will write a proper review once St Martin’s Press responds to the demands of the boycott!

One of the more creative memoirs that’s been published, kept engaging with both the mix of different medias(more art and photos than I’d expected, to be honest!), and Alice Wong’s electric narrative voice. I liked the different writing methods throughout too, especially towards the end when Wong wrote in a futuristic-esque lens in order to incorporate her hope, aspirations and predictions. This provided a detailed look at disabled culture and ableism throughout different decades, and I appreciated that. It’s kind of, in a way, the book embodiment of the “museum” mentioned in the “Pandemic” part of the book.

The only reason I don’t have this at 5 stars is because a lot of this is a collection of Alice Wong’s previous work(not all of it of course! There’s chapters of original writing, too), which although it mostly worked for me as someone new to her, might make this book only subpar for longtime fans. 

I’d still recommend that people check this out, even(or perhaps especially) if they don’t usually read nonfiction! Disabled readers get to be understood on a deeper level, non-disabled readers get to read about a valuable perspective outside of the usual ableist narrative, with tons of information ingrained throughout.

After almost a year of promising a Bookstagram friend that I’d read this(hi, Alex), I’ve finally got around to it!! Also a shoutout to Frankie Corzo for her narration, I’ll definitely check out more of her audiobooks(lord knows I need to listen to more narrators), I loved her attention to the emotions and intonation details in every bit of dialogue. (Plus, how she switched fluidly between English and Spanish.) I’d also argue that the audiobook is the best format to listen to this in, since the entire book is Xochitl telling her own story to Soliz. It makes the story feel a little more immersive! (Don’t worry, that’s not a spoiler.)

This was really cool!! I loved the worldbuilding for the cuentista lore, and the parts of different cities’ history and their characters as Emilia and Xochitl progressed on their journey. And I noticed that by the end, each of these smaller mysteries scattered throughout were tied neatly into the cast, which left me with not a lot of questions(and honestly is very rare for me in a standalone, usually the main concern for an ending is “tying things up” but there was a lot of thought put into it! Kudos)! Xochitl’s character growth was also largely tied into religious trauma overtones, I liked how it showed her grappling with her faith and living under an indifferent god. Religion was a large part of this story, and there were several different perspectives on it throughout, depending on the character or region, which I thought was interesting.

And Emilia!!! Of all of Xochitl’s relationships, her dynamic with Emilia shines. Even in their initial interactions where they distrusted each other, their parallels still made them walk this line between not wanting to totally confide in the other, but knowing they were understood somehow. The compassion they showed the other, whether it was silent or outspoken, was really sweet and I loved how it developed the more they got to know each other on a deeper, emotional level. The progression of their relationship is, granted, in real time quick, but in the context of the plot I thought it felt organic. (UGH AND THE ENDING!! So tender.) And in the context of the acknowledgements, I appreciate this growth more.

I liked the side characters, too, they were memorable in their very human struggles, especially under the oppression of Each Of Us A Desert’s world. Even if only one of them got to actually give a story to Xochitl! (Eliazar’s story HURT) God, I just loved how faith, family and other bonds were written. 

And for as much as this book had love and heart in it, it had just as much dread lol. It’s a phenomenal survival story, and the almost dystopian setting made for a tense atmosphere throughout. There were some parts—particularly with the sabuesos—that definitely made me understand why Oshiro decided to write a thriller after this.

The reason why this isn’t at a five stars though is I thought the book got really repetitive with the themes sometimes, and Xo’s realizations about her role and autonomy. Or cryptic lines would be repeated a few too many times. Listening to it on audio made it all the more annoying, especially towards the end.

Definitely recommend though, the writing style sucked me in and so much of this was excellent. 

AUGHHH this had such a strong start, I was so invested in the story, the paranormal mystery, the tangible grief, but…I feel let down by the ending!😭 For a different reason than most of the negative reviews.

(Disclaimer!: If you know my other reviews with trans characters, I usually refer to them with the pronouns they’re using by the end of the story. But because that is meant to be a surprise to the reader in “Too Bright To See”, I will only be using they/them pronouns for Bug. I do not feel comfortable using she/her.)

I’ll start off by saying that the trans rep in this book was spectacular. Although my experiences growing up as a transmasc kid weren’t the same(I had more girly interests than Bug, it took me longer to realize that didn’t make me inherently female lol), some of Bug’s internal monologue brought me back to some memories of growing up and not realizing I was trans. The disconnect with your self and body(oh god, especially before or around puberty) that is really just different kinds of gender dysphoria was written about so well!! And sidenote, but not really: I’m glad the issues in Moira and Bug’s friendship were brought up in the end of the book. Surprised at how neatly they were dealt with, though. (The ending in general wraps all the plot points and arcs up very tidily…it’s both a good and bad thing.)

I also appreciated the more emotional approach to a ghost story!! Bug and their mom’s grief felt so real, as someone living in a household that’s been shaped by grief. (Although, I was surprised Bug didn’t experience a second kind of grief after Rodrick’s ghost was done communicating with them. They really only talk about how Rodrick wasn’t “gone” for them like he was for their mom.) It especially worked with the writing style, which although it could feel a little too young at times, still balanced feeling like something you’d find in a kid’s journal entries(that just has to do with the depth of Bug’s emotion, not the formatting of the book. It’s not in entries), and still maintaining the craft of an adult writer.

But there was so much setup for Rodrick’s messages, and the mystery behind them, that I was expecting for there to be some other thing for Bug to figure out?? The reveal left me underwhelmed, and left the plot feeling kind of convoluted as a result. I think the summary gave away too much.

I’m bitter that I didn’t enjoy this more tbh. I cried several times reading 3/4ths of this book because the story hit home; I’m dealing with monumental loss in my life as well, and I’m also transgender (and realized it when I was only a little older than Bug was). BUT. This book doesn’t deserve the negative reviews of thinly-veiled transphobia it’s gotten. I know it’s nothing new to say a queer book for kids is indoctrination, it’s a common form of bigotry, but it still makes me angry to see people on Goodreads ignore or be oblivious to different part’s of Bug’s thought process and discomfort in favor of their argument. 😑 (they…do realize that Bug frequently thinks over the course of the book that being seen as a girl, not just girly, is uncomfortable, and once they’re able to start living as another gender they start considering the possibility of different things that once made them uncomfortable—like wearing nail polish and having crushes—once there’s not girlhood being imposed onto them??)

Conflicted as to give it a 3.5 or a 4.0 star rating. Good, although it was a slower book than I expected. It had solid moments of introspection and emotion, but unfortunately, some of the main character’s revelations or dwellings could become repetitive after a few chapters.

I liked how Rasa’s idealization to later disillusionment of the United States was written in the second act, and how American racism was shown from an immigrant/Non-American perspective. But I was put-off by the entire second act being flashbacks. I think it messed with the pacing, even if it was important to Rasa’s character.

I was also constantly disconnected from Rasa’s voice throughout the course of the novel, due to the intentionally vague setting. While I’ve looked at the author’s words in interviews, and I know his reason for doing so (not wanting to be “an anthropomorphic study of one country”, and keeping the story almost metaphorical in nature) coupled with his multicultural background likely having an influence, but I couldn’t get too invested in the world and Rasa as a result. But that weren’t the case, I’m sure that the eloquent and descriptive writing would have immersed me more easily.

(And Maj was definitely the character I connected to most! Not just because I like to see drag artists in literature, I promise! But because he also felt like one of the more fleshed-out side characters, and I respected his resilience.)

That said though, I could still feel for Rasa, even if it wasn’t on as deep of a level as I’d hoped I’d be able to. I liked his examination of the complicated relationship with his Teta(and how she had to do with his last experiences—and present-day opinions—of his parents), the vibrant gay community of Guapa, and how the idea of “eib” dictated his life and internalized shame. (He’s an interpreter, so he gets more specific about the social and literal language behind “eib”, which I found interesting!)

I’m still very thankful a book like this exists! Non-Western narratives like Rasa’s—growing up gay in a Muslim country—aren’t very common in the literary world, but one that many queer people can relate to. 

When I tell you this book left me BREATHLESS!!😭💕💕THIS. This is what novels in-verse are made to be like. I’ve never read a memoir in verse before, but I am so thankful I did because it added a much-needed layer of creativity and emotion to the format.

Besides being about cancer, Nehanda uses vivid, raw poetry to tell all of the other parts that come with it: The threat of their mortality, how living with chronic illness has affected their relationships with others(for better and for worse), dealing with how the intersections of their identity—being Black, fat, disabled and queer—make them even more vulnerable within the American healthcare system, and shape their experience. It also shows the relationships they have with their family and generational history (especially in the wake of their diagnosis), from the complicated one with their parents(and how, to an extent, dealing with that abuse shaped their relationship with Ivie), to Nehanda connecting with their ancestors as part of their healing(which I thought was especially interesting!). And this was surprisingly introspective, for a debut from a young author??

Although others might find it a little disjointing, I also loved the switch between the free verse, and the bouts of poetic novel writing! The author’s craftsmanship really shines through that, imo.

“Bless The Blood” is definitely a heavy read. But I definitely won’t be forgetting a narrative voice such as this one. I can’t recommend this enough, and I am eager to see what else Walela Nehanda will write.

A few quotes I liked(and would have snapped my fingers in response in place of clapping, if I had heard them said as slam poetry):
“Pierce through his classism,

I was not expecting to do a near-180 on my opinion of this book! But otherwise, this review would’ve turned out a lot different.

I’m surprised at how well the complexity of queer self-discovery was handled! Not only are a multitude of romantic and sexual orientations, as well as genders, discussed in this book, each character clearly has different levels of progress on figuring out themselves. Some are out and proud, like Xiuyung. Some figure out a label for themselves that works, like Uriah. And some have a rough idea of where they fit, but still have a long ways to go and aren’t rushing their personal journey, like our main character Alex! But I think I lost track of all the different coming out scenes, lol. (Hey, it was definitely the right choice to make this take place in a college with mostly first-years in the cast.)

I also appreciated the mental health representation, even if it was excruciating to be inside Alex’s head at times. Their anxiety symptoms, coupled with what seems to be autism linked to how they process their emotions or get overwhelmed by them, reminded me so much of a particular loved one in my life. Their self-deprecating dialogue was all stuff I’d thought or heard before. Please check the trigger warnings if you’re sensitive to content like that, the author is transparent about it and gives a list before the start of the novel. (Leaving out the person I thought of for privacy, but I’ll be checking on him a little extra after (unintentionally) getting some insight into a bit of how his brain might work.)

And also, Tate’s relationship with Alex!!💕💕T4T sweetness, his patience and understanding was shown well when they got together, and in some of the more tense scenes re: Alex’s mental health. But it still never felt like he was only there to regulate them. They were relatively healthy. I loved their casal intimacy in certain scenes, like when Alex was opening up to him and playing with Tate’s hair as they talked.

But unfortunately, I didn’t give this a higher rating because as much as I appreciate the important discussions to be had, I really disliked the writing style… It felt juvenile at times, and sometimes the pacing felt wonky in-between chapters. I almost DNF’ed this book before Alex’s gender crisis because of that(and combining it with the consistent negative self-talk). And outside of the more meaningful coming out scenes or identity discussions, the dialogue felt very stilted.

I’m also not really one for character-driven stories, I prefer ones that are a mix between plot and character-focused, but this is very much a slice-of-life. If you’re a reader that finds that genre boring, I don’t recommend reading this. This is more of a personal gripe/preference, though, so I’m keeping it separate from my other critiques.

To whoever may be reading this: I’m on the fence about my opinion of this book, so rather than taking my review as a recommendation to either ignore or check it out, feel free to form your own opinion based on what you would like to read personally! It’s different from my other reviews, in that regard. 

I won’t be doing a long review because I don’t do that for  memoirs(unless they’re phenomenal or terrible), but I will say that the storytelling was engaging and I liked how Rocero detailed the differences in trans culture in the USA and the Philippines. I also loved the photos at the end of all the pageants, it was nice to assign images to different segments and faces to the names mentioned!

My only gripes were that the ending segments felt a little rushed, sometimes it felt repetitive, and I thought some momentum was lost towards the middle. Easily, the strongest part of the novel was the first segment! Geena’s backgrounds as a Christian, transgender woman(originally growing up being registered as, mostly, a “femme boy”), and Filipina had equal importance in different parts of her journey and I liked how she used that to talk about her upbringing(and also growing into her female self).

While not perfect IMO, I’d still recommend checking this out, it’s an interesting read!