READING LOG.

I've only recently begun reading memoirs, and I'm glad that I picked up Tomboy Survival Guide to be among my first. Initially, I was drawn to this book since I heard that Ivan Coyote was a fellow queer Vancouverite. Their memoir is a collection of stories and essays that recount the joy and struggles of growing up a tomboy "gender failure" in Yukon, Canada through the 70s-90s. Coyote is a fantastic storyteller who writes with warmth, empathy, and humour that invites a really intimate connection between them and the reader. It's tender, it's vulnerable, and it almost felt like Coyote knew what I've been going through in my life and wrote this book specifically to tell me "it's going to be okay".

It's hard being queer. It's hard being butch. Coyote illustrates this well: people will try to force us into boxes we don't belong in. People will be incredibly violent to us. People will erase us. But in spite of it all--tomboys, trans men, transmascs, and butches will always survive in the face of it. Tomboy Survival Guides makes me less afraid of being myself.

"I am not trapped in the wrong body; I am trapped in a world that makes very little space for bodies like mine" -- Ivan Coyote, Tomboy Survival Guide

I will fucking kill myself.

In all seriousness though, this book was exceptionally devastating and heartbreaking. Madeline Miller knows exactly how to weave Greek mythology into a tragic, gay story that the cowards behind Troy (2004) couldn't tell. She did a fantastic job of staying relatively faithful to the spirit of the source material, while also convincingly filling in the blanks and shining a new light on these millenia-old characters.

In the Iliad, Achilles is a massive dick. He's quite unlikeable from the get-go: he's a bully, a manchild, and indirectly responsible for most of the deaths in the Iliad. Madeline Miller was able to carefully balance his negative qualities with his mortal, human side--even if sometimes, I felt that he didn't deserve it. Through Patroclus' perspective, we see that Achilles can be gentle, loving, and deeply conflicted. He's a hero seduced by glory and honour who is ultimately still a boy at heart. Their relationship builds up and ends in such a visceral, heartbreaking way.

I will always be grateful that Miller brought the Iliad and Epic Cycle to the attention of young modern audiences, and broke the cycle of the infamous "just dudes being bros" intepretations of myths. Despite this--and I feel that this should be a no-brainer--the Song of Achilles shouldn't be treated as anything more than (great) fanfiction of the Iliad. TSOA's characters are not their canon counterparts, and shouldn't be conflated with each other.

This book was a required reading for my English First People's 12 class. It's usually difficult for me to enjoy assigned readings as a) I am unfortunately part of that generation which has seen a massive decline in reading for pleasure and b) my stupid brain can't get invested in anything that doesn't pertain to my special interest/fixation. In spite of this, I found Five Little Indians to be an insightful and necessary read. The novel features 5 survivors of the Indian Residential School system and follows them through their struggles, triumphs, and the ways they try to cope with their childhood trauma. The first few chapters are brutal, and Good doesn't shy away from the systemic horrors that Indigenous people of Turtle Island continue the face. Despite it all, there is hope to be found in the character arcs of the five protagonists that I quickly grew attached to. I found the drastic time and location jumps to be confusing at times, and I do wish certain characters' arcs were given more room for development.

Wow. So this right here is my favourite BL of all time.

There's a lot I could say about the Iliad itself, but since no one here wants an essay, I'll just touch on what I think of Wilson's translation. I have to say, this version of the Iliad is very solid. It's thoughtful, accessible, and most importantly (to me), fun. The art of translation is a difficult one, and Emily Wilson did a fantastic job of staying somewhat faithful to the source material while giving the text a fresh take for younger audiences. I do wish it retained more of Homer's poetic qualities though, so I am looking at Robert Fagles' translation for comparison. I would still highly, highly recommend this to anyone interested in picking up Homer's work for the first time.

This is no easy book, but it is very much worth the read. Warsan Shire is a brilliant, powerful writer who wields a pen like a knife. I felt like Warsan Shire herself took me by the hand and brought me back to her childhood home and personally showed me every wound it left on her. Her writing, which captures her experiences of Black immigrant girlhood and womanhood are just gutting. And although hurt drips from every line, there is an undeniable tenderness to many of her poems that allows us to hope for her and the women in her life.

I think more than ever, as immigrants and refugees continue to be demonized, brutalized, and scapegoated, Shire's poems are a necessary read. As she says herself:

"At each and every checkpoint the refugee is asked are you human? The refugee is sure it's still human but worries that overnight, while it slept, there may have been a change in classification." -- Warsan Shire, Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems

This book permanently changed my brain chemistry. It's like sex, if sex were actually good.

Higginbotham's narrative historical novel fell into my hands at the peak of my Chernobyl and nuclear engineering special interest, and I could not put it down once I started reading. I've reread it at least four or so times now.

Midnight in Chernobyl covers everything from the early days of the powerplant's construction to the very second reactor no. 4 blew up on April 26, 1986. Adam took over a decade gathering information from eyewitnesses and Soviet archives, and this thorough research is evident in that it almost feels like I lived through it myself. Of course, there are still some negligible errors (e.g. the fuel channel caps "jumping"). Midnight in Chernobyl paints a harrowing and hopeful portrait of human resilience, ingenuity, and nature--and serves as an important warning to anyone about the consequences of technology slipping off its leash.

Please read it.

"...a society where the cult of science had supplanted religion, the nuclear chiefs were among its most sanctified icons—pillars of the Soviet state. To permit them to be pulled down would undermine the integrity of the entire system on which the USSR was built. They could not be found guilty." -- Adam Higginbotham, Midnight in Chernobyl: The Untold Story of the World's Greatest Nuclear Disaster

This book is very dear to me. Lamya's writing is terrific, smart, and vivid, which really did feel like they were pulling me into their world. Though I grew up a queer person in the West, with a Baptist Christian upbringing, I had no trouble resonating deeply with Lamya's experiences: the constant battles of religion vs. queerness, family vs. individual identity, East vs. West, bigotry in the LGBTQ community vs. bigotry in our cultural/ethnic communities. I really enjoyed the parts where she drew parallels between stories from the Quran to her own life. This book is unforgettable. Please read it.

"...even after all of this, my saying the truth out loud is not enough to prove who I am to a world that doesn't believe me." -- Lamya H., Hijab Butch Blues

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Anti-Indigenous racism, child abuse

Unfortunately, Richard Wagamese is no longer with us, but I like to believe that he continues to live on in his stories, and in the people they've touched.

I've had the incredible honor of being touched by said work. I read this book in grade 9 as a required First Nations reading in English class, and to this day it still haunts me. Indian Horse captures the very real and crushing realities that Indigenous children in Canada lived through in residential schools. It is by all means a difficult read, as it details the sexual, physical, spiritual, and emotional abuse that these literal children had to go through. Although it is carefully balanced by the triumph and joy of reading about Saul find comfort and achievement in hockey.

Wagamese' writing is legendary and comes to life off the page. I found myself quickly attached to Saul. He felt very real to me, and reading the book was almost like watching my best friend grow up. Being a victim of child sexual abuse in the Church myself, Saul really did speak to me. He made me feel less alone, and gave me the perseverence to keep going, to be where I am today. Thank you, Saul. I am so grateful to have known you.

"They scooped out our insides, Saul. We are not responsible for that. We are not responsible for what happened to us. None of us are," Fred said. "But our healing--that's up to us." -- Richard Wagamese, Indian Horse

I love abusive lesbian cannibals.

This novella was a hell of a ride. It's an easy, digestable horror that starts off tame, and does require some patience for the darker stuff to arrive, but had my eyes glued to the page the entire time. The writing left me with this indescribable feeling of dread and suspense that made me feel almost claustrophobic (in a good way).

My only gripes are that the beginning of the story dragged on more than I thought was necessary, and the plot is a bit predictable. I also wish more chapters were spent on the visceral horror elements.