My May in reading

Since it’s almost July, I should probably tell you about the books I read in May. Don’t you think?

Pizza Girl by Jean Kyoung Frazier (narrated by Jeena Yi)

“Teenager who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing” is one of my favorite genres, and Pizza Girl is an excellent example of that genre. A pregnant 18-year-old falls for a harried stay-at-home mom who orders pickle pizza for her unhappy young son. She finds it hard to relate to her mother and boyfriend, who get along better than she does with either of them, and she seems to be the only one mourning the loss of her alcoholic father—tossing back a few beers, then a few more, then a few more, in his memory. (Big content warning for substance abuse.) When I recommend the book to friends, I tell them it’s like the movie Juno, but way more messed up. I mean this as a compliment! I loved it.

There There by Tommy Orange

I’ve had this book on my list forever—I’m glad I finally got to it! I like how I summed this one up on Twitter, so I’m just going to repeat myself here: “A circling cast of Native American characters meets Chekhov’s 3D-printed gun in a dance that left me breathless by the end.” I thought it was so elegant the way each character was tied together not only by the impending Big Oakland Powwow, but also by cultural, family, and historical bonds—while still maintaining their own distinct personalities. There There is heavy, but it’s a good one.

Well Met by Jen DeLuca

I like renaissance faires, and I like a romance novel from time to time. A few friends recommended this one, so I gave it a shot. No. Just nope. I only finished it because it was short. Every major character was self-pitying and had zero confidence—it would be fine if only one character were this way, but all of them? I was annoyed by them rather than rooting for them. The seduction/sex: not sexy and not enough! Also, I think this may have started as Pirates of the Caribbean fan fiction? Not necessarily a bad thing, but it didn’t help here. I’d avoid Well Met if I were you, but I don’t want to yuck your yum.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield (narrated by Annabel Baldwin and Robyn Holdaway)

A ton of people told me to read this, and I’m glad to report they were absolutely right. It’s excellent. It’s like…lesbian sci-fi gothic? Miri’s wife Leah is changed after a long deep-sea voyage that went horribly wrong—though Leah won’t tell Miri the details. All Miri knows is that her wife isn’t done changing—mentally or physically—and she doesn’t know where to turn or how to cope. Told in alternating chapters between Miri and Leah, the novel is simultaneously suspenseful and sad. It’s a love story as much as it is a horror story.

I’m Always So Serious by Karisma Price

I loved this vibrant poetry collection—vibrant both thematically and formally. I visited New Orleans for the first time last year, and I could tell Price was writing from that space. There’s humidity and rot and music and heat and celebration and bright colors all throughout her work. I especially liked her poems about/to pianist James Booker. (An incredible Wikipedia page if you have a few minutes.)

Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

I read this last year in the frenzy that inevitably comes when the latest book in a series is released—so I decided to re-read it more calmly, pick up all the details. I reviewed it already, so I won’t repeat myself, except to say that I still adored it.

Runaway: Notes on the Myths that Made Me by Erin Keane

In this memoir, Louisville’s own Erin Keane examines the story of how her 36-year-old father met her 15-year-old runaway mother in New York City and married her, even after he learned her real age. Her father died when she was young, and growing up, she valorized this story—not only because she missed her father, but because society has valorized stories like it for years, until recently. It is very hard to rewrite the stories you’ve told yourself about your family and consider them in a larger cultural context. Keane does it with aplomb.