Samantha Irby is like the one friend where you both sit on the sofa and don't say a word and hate on the same people in the Twitter battle. It's hilarious and fantastic and heartbreaking all at once.

In a lot of ways Rukhsana is believable and hilarious and like every bengali girl I knew growing up. I wish the author delved more into the alienation Rukhsana feels

Jaswal does a fantastic job of expressing what it means to be a woman in a society ruled primarily by men from the perspective of a woman who grew up in the West. A very attractive book for the population that loves to critique their culture while still benefitting from associating with the colonial rulers. These are the elite Indians, the ones with the means to escape to the West. Also the plot twists with Rajini were unexpected to say the least given her uptight mannerisms in the beginning? And I feel like there were some loose ends. Like what happened to Rajini's childhood BFF? The ending was decent.

What a collection of hope, sadness and resistance by an eclectic collection of authors, the stories from folk who refuse to be erased, an America we can aspire to.

Reading Crucet is like drinking a cup of Cafe con Leche where you are first struck by the coffee but then left with delicate strands of cinnamon and nutmeg which is to say each essay in this collection has layers of complexity that provokes internal examination and cross examination. It's an unrelenting sun boring through to the center of your soul type of essays, the ones that simultaneously make you wanna call up your sister but also stay away from home.

I really liked the short, simple way the story was told in this English translation, reminding me of elegant Japanese haikus. The story is also engaging, intricately constructed, full of unexpected turns. Honestly, the book felt timeless.

Rivera paints a compelling and nuanced look at feminism, queerness and whiteness and the complicated narratives within. The language tended to be overly florid and dramatic which detracted from her entirely valid critique.

Machado deftly weaves narrative tropes through this complex and intricate examination of emotional and mental abuse in queer lesbian relationships. The quiet horror, the kind that makes your mouth fall open in a silent scream and your eyes remember when you close the lids. I have so much love and respect for Machado's relentless quest for a forgiving honest self examination of her relationship and society's standards.

This story is so healing. It's magical realism at its best, the way a story is finally told by the people whose story it is.