[REVIEW] Gaysians, by Mike Curato

(Buy this book here.)

AJ arrives in Seattle, fresh out of the closet and dreaming of art school and self-discovery. On his first venture into a gay bar, he spills a drink on drag queen K, who introduces him to John and Steven. The four of them (and a few others) become a found family that pulls together–and pulls apart.

I live in the sort of bubble where gay Asians aren’t at all unusual. What is unusual is depictions of Asian men with nuance and detail. John is a gamer–but he’s also a kinky bear, a transracial Korean adoptee with a Black mom and white dad, and has a big ol’ soft spot for his roommate. Steven is a twink who uses his body to get what he wants, morals be damned–but he’s also a really good nurse. AJ’s young and inexperienced, but also has a strong sense of self, sharp insight, and a streak of romantic showmanship. And K–well, like all the best drag queens, K must be seen to be truly appreciated. I won’t ruin her story for you–but it’s well worth the page turns.

Good graphic novels are always cleverly detailed, and so each chapter of Gaysians begins with an expression from a character’s heritage language–Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese or Tagalog. Color and paneling are used to flow seamlessly through time, space and emotion, from the neon lights of a sweaty nightclub to the gray doldrums of a depressed morning after. The art is the story, here, and the story is the art. The story itself isn’t particularly new, but I appreciate the way it contextualizes a lot of old tropes culturally.

Asian-American identity, from a Black vantage point, seems tricky. On the one hand, it’s a weird construct made more obviously artificial by the racism involved in lumping everyone with ancestry from the world’s largest continent into one marginalized category. On the other, it’s a powerful means of reclamation via solidarity, and–dare I say it?–an example of how America, at its best, does multiculturalism really well. Curato doesn’t shy away from the racial and cultural themes at all, and carries that honesty through into his portrayals of gayness, too. This book is saturated with gay culture and sexuality–and y’all know how I feel about #ownnormal. Love. It.

A simple latte order and appreciation of a happy ending to Gaysians.

(Fellow readers! Happy post-Pride! This is one of the most pleasant things I read this year, believe it or not. If you’re interested in other reads by gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender authors, I have a booklist right here for ya. If you want to help us keep the lights on round these parts, visit the Equal Opportunity Bookshop and buy something–we get paid a commission for every purchase, affiliate-style. Now, go and read something good! Peace!)

[REVIEW]Finding American: Stories of Immigration From All 50 States, by Colin Boyd Shafer

[Buy this book.]

I’m sitting here trying to remember the first time I thought of someone I knew as an immigrant and I can’t. Maybe it was my great-aunt Una, who came to New York from Panama just after WWII, from what I’ve been told. Maybe my godmother, a French Canadian who eventually repatriated and sent me birthday cards in her first language to keep me sharp. Maybe it was my mother’s friend Ms Rice, who was from England and Jamaica and had a voice that sounded like a cold, sweet drink.

Maybe it was my school friend Kyetchuwan, who had come from Cambodia and was remarkably patient when the whole neighborhood mispronounced his name. Maybe it was my close friend B, who I bonded with over ambitions, dreams, and my dumb questions about the Philippines while working graveyard shifts many years ago. (Now, he’s a doctor and I…read things. He wins.)

What stands out to me is not how many of the people I know are immigrants, or where they’re really from, or how deserving they are or aren’t of the title American. It’s the uniqueness of their stories and lives. That’s what’s collected in this beautiful coffee table book. People from every inhabited continent and walk of life who have migrated to each of the 50 US states share brief stories and touching photos about what it’s like to be an American who comes from somewhere else. They’re artists, scientists, laborers, parents, politicians. They’re African, Asian, Arab, Latine, European. They’re queer, straight, trans, cis. They have children, or parents, or siblings, or American families of choice.

There’s no one immigrant story. People come for love, money, knowledge, freedom, fun. The snapshots curated here run the gamut and give us an idea of how dynamic and vital immigrants(and their lives and experiences) are to American identity and social progress.

When the Canadian documentary photographer Colin Boyd Shafer reached out and offered me a copy of his book nearly 2 years ago, I didn’t know how important it would become, or how precious these collected stories would feel in the present madness. Usually, this is where I’d break everything on the subject down neatly with a twist, offer an exhortation, and maybe sprinkle a little humor over it all.

But I’ve been expecting LA since February, and for once words fail me. Instead I’ll simply say:

Abolish ICE.

Protect immigrants.

No human is illegal on stolen land.

Due process and dignity to Finding American.

(Deepest thanks to Colin and his publisher, Figure 1, for the complimentary copy of this book. Fellow readers, be safe and careful if you’re out protesting or demonstrating this weekend, or any weekend. Also, go hug an immigrant! If you are an immigrant, go demand hugs from someone. Feel free to tell them I told you to do it. Also, if you want to support this site and read more about immigrant lives and experiences, check out the booklists at the Equal Opportunity Reader Bookshop. We earn a commission if you purchase anything there. Now, go and read something good! Peace!)

[REVIEW] Wake: The Hidden History of Women-Led Slave Revolts, by Rebecca Hall, illustrated by Hugo Martinez

(Buy this book here.)

What I expected from this award-nominated graphic novel about women who led revolts during and after the Transatlantic Slave Trade: Justice. Vindication. Strong, clever African women standing up to oppressors, liberating themselves and others, making their marks on history. Blood. Thunder. Justice.

What I got: a new understanding of just how hard being a historian can be, and an additional reminder of how unjust, dehumanizing, and atrocious chattel slavery in the Americas was.

There were slave revolts led by African women, and a few of them are in this book. So is the author, as the main character. As a result, the narrative is largely about her transcontinental research efforts and how often they’re stymied by systemic gatekeeping, projected shame and simple indifference. The women that Hall searches for are often not mentioned by name in historical documents, or disappear after a cursory mention, or can only be found in private corporate records forbidden to the public to obscure liability.(Lloyds of London, your day is coming…)

But these women existed, and so do Hall’s endeavors to keep their contributions to resistance and revolt in the historical record, expanding on them where she can and candidly sharing her frustrations about how often she can’t. It’s an admirable, ongoing process. It’s also personally frustrating and exhausting–even models of resistance are stolen from Black women by the constant, relentless tide of self-serving, revisionist histories and targeted erasure.

This feels much more about the struggle and trauma of being a historian of American slavery than it does about the events referenced in the title, but that’s a good thing. It’s still a very worthwhile read.

Archive access and clear, numerous records to Wake.

(Fellow readers? Next month marks FIVE years of Equal Opportunity Reader and my general mood-reading diversity shenanigans. I really should have planned a party. If you’ve been hanging around all this time, or even if you haven’t and want to show a little love, consider visiting the Equal Opportunity Bookshop and buying yourself something new to read. We’ll get a commission from anything you purchase from a link on this site. Thanks for visiting, and go read something good! Peace!)

[REVIEW]The Free People’s Village, by Sim Kern

[Buy this book here.]

whew This is a BOOK, y’all.

The year is 2020, and COVID-19 doesn’t exist. In 2000, Al Gore became president, declaring a War on Climate Change and ushering in 20 years of Democrat control. Infrastructure is totally green, and carbon taxes keep it that way.

Sounds great, right? NOPE. Instead of a crapsack neo-conservative dystopia the USA this book exists in is a neo-liberal crapsackery in which Maddie, a young white eXvangelical teacher at a Black high school, is searching for love and meaning. She finds it in The Lab, a run-down, filthy community art space. She finds it in the colorful group of artists and fringe activists that hang out there, in her band Bunny Bloodlust and the queer awakening inspired by sexy lead guitarist Red and the lively energy xe possesses.

When The Lab becomes one of many victims in a campaign to destroy poor Black neighborhoods to build green hyperways to the subways, the entire community fights back. A simple campaign balloons into a nationwide movement called The Free People’s Village. By taking part, Maddie learns that while the world may not revolve around her, she still has a place in it.

There’s a lot of moving parts in this novel, but they fit together almost perfectly. The science, the politics and the art mesh into a perfect illustration of American trap, showing how it squeezes everyone no matter who’s in charge. Maddie is every well-intentioned nice white lady I’ve ever met, surrounded by a collection of multicultural, multi-ethnic, socially liberated, systemically oppressed, often queer snarky neopunks with enormous libraries, big politics, and no fucks to give. I know these people. I am these people, sometimes. I love them, both in fiction and in real life. It was wonderful to see them on the page in all their spiky meaningful glory, even if their stories sometimes hit a little too close to painful home truths at times. Much like in real life, not everybody gets a happy ending. Even the funkiest young activist ages out of frontline duty–if they’re lucky. Watching Maddie become a part of the crew and realize how loved she is, is a joy, even if the sweeping social change she and her friends hope for never really happens in the way that they want. By the time I got to the last chapter I was deeply in my feelings–if nothing else, this book is a great reminder that there’s hope for all us old wounded activists after all.

I’m not giving you much detail about this book because going into it mostly blind and unwrapping all its complexity was part of the pleasure of reading it. I highly recommend you do the same.

Neopronoun love and cockroach spray to The Free People’s Village.

(So here’s the deal, fellow readers; I read a book I hate about two months ago and it just killed my reviewing mojo entirely. Guess I should stick to the rivers and the lakes that I’m used to from here on out. Anyway, I’m back, and grateful that you’re here reading. Always remember that if you want to support this blog, the best way to do so is giving the Equal Opportunity Bookshop a visit and purchasing a book, which will result in a commission being paid. If you can’t do that, click around a read a few more reviews, then visit your local library. Whatever you do, make sure it ends with you reading something good. Peace!)

[Last While In Books] I Guess I Have A Podcast, Now

The state of the world isn’t really an excuse for not having blogged for nearly a month, but it’s all I got. Grr. Argh. Politics!

(No but seriously it remains awful please let’s all take care of ourselves and others and read good books as often as we can)

In any case, I have actually been hard at work on a few things. One I can’t tell you about for a while, but the other…

  • So I guess I have a podcast, now! I scripted, edited, and recorded this premiere episode all on my own and…eh. Definitely a learning curve in play here. I’ve been attempting to podcast for a while so this is the result of forcing myself to just get started. I’m looking forward to doing more and getting better at rambling about books around a topic. [Spotify]
  • Nanowrimo, the novel writing challenge that recently became synonymous with AI-induced ableism and grooming minors, is shutting down. I’m sorry to see them go out like this. [The Guardian]
  • Did y’all watch the season finale of season 3 of The White Lotus? Because I did and my feelings are still hurt! If you, like me, were surprised to find that the show about mean, nasty rich people on stressful vacations isn’t based on a book, you may be interested in this list of books that are similar. [Town and Country]
  • If you, like me, are also a bit unimpressed with the way the Thai characters were used mostly as foils in the show (poor Pornchai!), you might be interested in reading the work of Duanwad Pimwana, the first Thai woman writer to have her work translated into English. Her short story collection Arid Dreams is a series of vignettes about the lives of ordinary, mostly working-class Thais. [Bookshop]
  • George Johnson’s All Boys Aren’t Blue has become the ALA’s most challenged book, deposing Maia Kobabe’s graphic novel Gender Queer from its dubious place of dishonor. All Boys Aren’t Blue has another honor–it’s the subject of the only guest review on this site, written by a very dear and well-read friend of mine. I also reviewed Gender Queer some time ago. In true EQR fashion, I was fine with the gender talk but very concerned about the lack of childhood bathing. Check out both reviews, and keep reading banned and challenged books. As our creepy Uncle Stephen (King) once said, they’re where the good stuff is. [NPR]
  • Speaking of banned and challenged books, some of the most eloquent discussions about the topic are coming from very unlikely places. I like how thorough and matter of fact The Good Men Project’s take on the topic is. [The Good Men Project]

That’s this week’s diverse bookish news updates, fellow readers. As always, thank you for reading and if you’re interested in these books, check out the Equal Opportunity Bookshop. Anything you purchase at that link, or any link on this site, will earn us a commission. Now, go read something good. Peace!

Last While In Books: I’ve Mentioned Most of This Before.

The struggle continues, but so does the printing press, fellow readers. Without further ado, here are some tidbits of interesting diverse bookish news I’ve come across lately.

  • I may have posted about this before, but I don’t think one can post too much about the adorable children’s book that James Baldwin wrote for his nephews. It’s called Little Man, Little Man and of course it’s set in Harlem and has beautiful watercolor illustrations done by a Parisien artist. [LitHub]
  • Chinese-American writer and translator Wendy Chen has a mentor, who happens to be the legendary poet Li Qingzhao, who died in 1151. Were it anyone but Chen claiming this I’d be…skeptical? But follow her on this, it’s wonderfully wrought. [LitHub]
  • Not every mentor, muse, or patron needs to have died a thousand years ago. Sometimes figures of different influence but similar polarities just need to be in the right place at the right time. Juanita Tolliver’s new book about the time Huey P. Newton and Shirley Chisholm met at a party hosted by Diahann Carroll is proof. WILD proof, but proof, nonetheless. [Contraband Camp]
  • Consider this a friendly reminder that there are a lot of excellent publications focused on short speculative fiction that have almost their entire back catalogue available online to read for free. Sometimes you can really find some gems there. Exhibit A: Stephen Graham Jones, perhaps most known for a scary story about an elk, burning up the page with a poignant, tender space story back in 2018.[Lightspeed]
  • I admittedly haven’t read much Moroccan fiction but this beautiful excerpt from Living In Your Light by Abdellah Taia(translated by Emma Ramadan) makes me want to change that. I mean, this line? “Your eyes didn’t say that I was beautiful nor that you were in love with me. No, none of that. Your eyes played, danced, and invited me to do the same. Dance with you in public, in the souk.” Bars. It takes on a little more meaning when you realize Taia is the only openly gay writer in Morocco, and writes into his #ownnormal. [7 Stories]
  • Yay. The television adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments is getting closer to television. Yay. [Deadline]
  • I just reviewed the Black history vignette collection Crazy as Hell, and it turns out one of the co-authors, Hoke Glover III, has a poem in the latest edition of Rattle, under the name Bro Yao. We love a multi-genre Black writer! You’ll have to buy the issue to read it, but for serious poetry heads this might be worth it. Hell, it might be worth it just for that pseudonym. [Rattle]
  • Romance is resistance. Appropriate, then that romance-focused bookstores are popping up everywhere, including Latino communities in South Florida. [WLM]
  • Finally: Jamaican lesbian poet Stacey-Ann Chin is one of the first literary figures I met and I was social media friends with her through much of her journey to motherhood. Now she’s made a documentary about it all that seems to visually maintain her trademark lyrical style. Will try and see this, for sure. [Facebook]

And there it is, fellow readers–a roundup of books to read, thoughts to chase, and writers to pay attention to. As always, thank you for visiting, please remember that anything you buy from a link on this blog results in a commission being paid to my book-buying fund, and it is always a smart idea to read something good. Or bad, I don’t care. Just go read. Peace!

[REVIEW] Condomnauts, by Yoss, translated by David Frye

(Buy this book in the Equal Opportunity Bookshop)

Whew this was a weird book. But, here goes.

Josué is a queer, light-skinned AfroCuban with locs, a survivor of the cutthroat slums of future Havana, and part of a highly specialized intergalactic ambassadorial sex worker class. Known as “condomnauts”, Josué and his colleagues are responsible for making first contact with the weirdest, most well-traveled aliens and setting the stage for favorable trade relations and cultural exchange. To make it clear that no amount of tentacles, extra eyes or otherwise alien biology will impede relations, the condomnauts start negotiations by having…uh, relations with every species possible, coming where no man has…okay, let me stop.

Given the subject matter, this book really isn’t very spicy. It is weird and absurd and probably very funny in its original Spanish. I liked quite a lot of things it does; frankness about male sexuality and trauma, cheeky pokes at colonial impact on sex work and tourism, and expansive sci-fi worldbuilding. However, sexuality and its expressed tropes are both culturally and preferentially dependent. For me, the machismo and colorism Josué constantly demonstrates were off-putting but also multi-dimensional. It comes across as authentic to that specific character, for what it’s worth. The story is a bit thin, too–it’s almost all worldbuilding, and for me the final twist didn’t curl all the way over. (I hollered “GROSS AND FOR WHAT?!?!” at the book but kept reading.)

There’s another thing, as well, and the next paragraph is a content warning. I’ve accidentally been in a reading wormhole of texts on male sexual vulnerability that started with The Earl Who Isn’t(a very gentle and thoughtful book) and has somehow led me here, to a very extreme example. There’s an extended flashback sequence that includes very graphic discussions of sexual activity between very young children. It’s icky to read and that’s the point–it’s the genesis of Josué’s trauma wounds and a clear illustration of how terrible his childhood was. But while I can see what Yoss was trying to do, I’m not sure it works all the way, and a lot of it relies on pretty poor psychology. Some of the themes–extreme fatphobia, sexism, more colorism and kids doing things kids really shouldn’t–left a bad taste behind. But–that’s the point. I got it, I didn’t like it, and I recognize that not everybody is going to want to read that by accident so: content warning.

Yoss is apparently a bonafide heavy metal star in Cuba as well as one of the island’s leading sci-fi writers. After reading this, I’m not surprised. This made me curious about his other work even if it didn’t ring all my bells.

Space prophylactics and ironclad consent to Condomnauts.

(Fellow readers, consider this my concession to Valentine’s Day capitalist propaganda. Go love on somebody. If you need inspiration, check out this booklist of diverse romance or anything in the Equal Opportunity Bookshop. Anything you buy from a link on this site results in a commission being paid. Thanks for visiting, happy Valentine’s Day, and peace! Now go read something good!)

Last While In Books: Bye Colleen, Hello Black folks, Give Bookshop a Chance

Hey, fellow readers. Things are still going the way that they are in the US and elsewhere. The initial stress and shock has died down to a dull roar of anxiety, however, meaning I can a)focus more on real action and b)share some diverse bookish news. Hope you’re all hanging in there as well. (And it sounds lame to type that out, given….everything, but I do mean it. I’m just exhausted and temporarily out of pith.)

  • Colleen Hoover may be quitting writing. [Times Now News]
  • Just in time for Valentine’s Day: men apparently like romance novels more than women, now. [ThriftBooks]
  • I really should have posted about this last week for Lunar New Year, but Valentine season is also a good time to read Gene Luen Yang’s Lunar New Year Love Story. I reviewed it last year, and its exploration of love, romance, and culture still comes to my mind now and then. [Equal Opportunity Reader]
  • Just in time for Black History Month; Black writer, historian, and one of my personal faves Michael Harriot has a newsletter now. [Contraband Camp]
  • In case you need something to take your mind off of ensuing global chaos…take a look at this pillow. [Svenskt Tenn]
  • I had no idea that the first Vietnamese-American woman astronaut is set to go into space later this year. Amanda Nguyen has also written a memoir about her journey towards space and her civil rights work(which resulted in the 2016 Sexual Assault Survivors Act) that’s due out in March.[MacMillan]
  • Someone’s gone and written a collection about an infamous perpetual house party on an estate in North Peckham. That someone is Nigerian British poet Caleb Femi and I have to say, this book looks like a good time. [The Guardian]
  • Bookshop now has ebooks. NetGalley is launching their own proprietary reading platform. Nobody really seems to be happy with either choice but my take is this–we have to start somewhere. Amazon started in a garage, we’re not going to be able to create platforms that rival it out of whole cloth in a week. Give them a chance, as much as you are able to. I will. (I’m also not getting rid of the many, many Kindle books I have or my Kindle. Progressive, not performative, okay folks?)
  • This epic novel by Santanu Bhattacharya about three generations of gay men in India–and how differently that looks, over time–caught my eye as well. [The Guardian]

That’s it for now, fellow readers. If you’re an American and want to know what you can do, check this document issued by Congress. If you’re one of the many international readers–forgive us? And send some good thoughts our way.

As always, anything you buy from a link you find here will result in a commission being paid. Thanks in advance for your visit, and go read something good. Peace!

[REVIEW] The Dead Cat Tail Assassins, by P. Djèlí Clark

(Buy this book here!)

I’m back, annoyed with everything, and politically and emotionally exhausted so let’s talk about a fun book today, fellow readers. An extraordinarily well-written fun book that happens to have won an Alex Award (for adult books that have special appeal to teen readers), but a fun book, nonetheless.

Eveen has no tail and is not a cat. She is, however, (un)dead and an assassin, with a nifty half mask, Weapons of Awesome, and quirky character-building hobbies to prove it. When a job goes weirdly, personally wrong, she finds herself facing the ire of all the other undead assassins in the city, and taking some pretty big risks to set things right.

This book is weird, wild, action-packed, and FUN, with the usual immersive worldbuilding Clark specializes in. This isn’t the type of fantasy you take super seriously or analyze the politics of (although, of course, the politics are there. They’re always there, in every book you read.) It is the type of fantasy you get your popcorn, your fighting boots, and your laughing dress* ready for when you read it.

Speaking of dress–the main characters here are Black Caribbean women and while that’s less rare than it used to be in fantasy, it is still rare that sistren get to have this much magical fun on a page. I enjoyed every minute of their banter and adventuring. And speaking of sistren–this book has the best sudden appearance of a Phenomenal Cosmic Power I’ve read in a looooong while. I hollered all the way through the last chapter because of it.

I’ll say no more. Just know that if your brain needs both a break and a good storytime, this fits the bill.

A mirror, a serial trade paperback, and a good contract to The Dead Cat Tail Assassins.

A huge thank you to the author himself for giving me the signed copy of the book in the picture at last year’s Readercon!

*What do you mean, you don’t have a laughing dress? Get with the program, folx. Laughing attire is the new blue jeans.

(Fellow readers, I needed a breather in between all the emails, phone calls, thinking, and talking I’ve been doing over the last week or so. Remember–you are already doing a good job. But that doesn’t mean you can stop doing it. Hang in there, read something good, and as always blah blah Bookshop, blah blah commission, blah blah click to support and get some good books. Appreciate you!)

Last While In Books: Me, the News, and Sensible People

So despite–or perhaps because of–the giant racist orange elephant in the American political room right now, the bookish world has been surprisingly interesting of late. One thing a strong whiff of fascism will do is get everybody who cares to squad up behind diversity and shout loudly, and that seems to be what’s going on, worldwide.

Glad we’re not all taking this lying down.

So, let’s talk about the books. Also, to keep it 100%, in an unusual turn of events, the first three links are about me. That always feels a bit self-aggrandizing but hey, if I can’t promote my own work on my own site, where else can I?

  • Second, I’ve been reviewing genre fiction over on Lightspeed Magazine for about six months now, and have been lucky enough to discover some bangers along the way. Most recently, I’ve shared the future Hawaiian queer sci-fi caper novel Hammajang Luck (awesome and SO much fun!) and the Appalachian A.I. war meditation Mechanize My Hands To War (sad, thought-provoking, not at all what I was expecting). Thanks in advance for taking a look, beautiful people.[Lightspeed Magazine]
  • Third–and this is amazing and unexpected and really, really, cool–Ol’ Big Head, a story I wrote that was kindly published on Lightspeed in December 2024, has somehow made it onto the preliminary ballot for superior achievement in long fiction for the 2024 Stoker Awards. Yikes. Also, whoa. It’s an honor to be included with so many incredible writers (I’m in the same category with Eden Royce. Whoaaaaaa!) and I’m thrilled about it. [Bram Stoker Awards]

Okay, now on to other people’s bookish business, a.k.a one of my favorite things…

  • Nigerian writer Wole Talabi created an excellent list of 10 great African speculative fiction short stories from last year. These are all on my #tbr, immediately. [Reactor]

  • I thought about including a link to a booklist by Latine writers on immigration here, but in retrospect, that seems a bit insensitive and frivolous. Also, I think it’s notable that there don’t seem to be any new ones on any of the major book news outlets.
  • Quick detour: Social media is having a bad broligarchy moment, and has been for some time. I haven’t really decided where exactly I land on all of of this except to pull as far back as I can from Meta and get off Twitter entirely. Interestingly, Joseph Gordon-Levitt (yeah, the actor, who has also edited some cute story collections) wrote the most sensible thing I’ve seen on this shift in internet gatherings so far. [Hit Record]
  • I live in Boston and haven’t been shy about how much I dislike the city, but I have to admit that the cultural and literary legacy here is undeniable. This article about the women who were poetic contemporaries of Emerson and Thoreau and the incredible literary community-building work that they did is a great example of that. [New York Times]
  • Okay, we have to talk about the elephant a little bit. I have been heartened by some of the things that people in the bookish world have said and done lately, like this passionate letter to readers, writers, publishers, and bookshops from a Massachusetts bookseller. [LitHub]
  • Also, let’s not forget that there is finally a cease-fire in Palestine. There should have been one over a year ago. Also, I’m not sure I love the political chatter around the current ceasefire–sounds a lot like relocation to me–but bitterness solves little, so instead I’ll share this excerpt from the new anthology SUMŪD: A New Palestinian Reader.[7 Stories]
  • A final thing: the recent fires in California have the internet abuzz with a wide variety of takes on Octavia E. Butler, whose seminal Parables series begins with a fire in a California suburb and leads the reader through the fall of America. This article, from January of last year, has one of the more holistic explanations of her work and how it relates to current events that I’ve seen. [The Atlantic]

That’s it for this week’s roundup, fellow readers. Take care of yourselves and your loved ones, and read something good! Peace!