I was finally discharged from the rehab clinic! My leg holes (sorry, tunnel wounds, because apparently that sounds less disgusting? I'm not convinced) are gone, but I've got some gnarly scars to commemorate our time together. (My sincerest apologies to anyone with trypophobia.)

I also sold my condo and cried about it quite a bit, because I no longer get to be an ✨Independent Adult✨. And I lost a job opportunity at the last minute, because they didn't want to wait for my healing to finish. And my parents got some injury lawyers involved to sue the [REDACTED] that fucked my leg up so badly, and it was all very boring and American, and I never want to think about this period in my life again because it makes me hate myself and everyone else, too. Hi-yo, trauma, awaaaaay! (On the plus side, I now walk with a cane, which puts me another step closer to becoming Kaz Brekker.)

I watched some Netflix. Finally got around to Arcane! So good; Silco is my favorite, of course; you know I always love the baddies. And "Wendell & Wild," which was also excellent; love me some Laika stop-motion (and trans and black protagonists!). And when my sister gave me her Disney+ password, you know I was watching Owl House, if only to fangirl with my 11-y/o niece about Hunter. (Quoth my niece: "He's a bad boy, but he's a sad boy, too. He's a bad, sad boy!")

But Lyn, you ask. How did you keep yourself occupied while you were stuck in a rehab facility for almost four months, costing Worker's Comp about $900 a day, in addition to the 1.5k ambulance, and the 10k hospital/surgery bill? Well, dear Nonexistent Reader, here is a list of all the stuff I read while I was locked up:

I was already on a Lucinda Berry kick in January, so getting hurt was all the permission I needed to buy more of her books. Phantom Limb is about two sisters who were severely abused as children, now struggling to exist in the 'real' world as 'normal' adults. One manages to do so (kind of). The other does not. I guessed the main twist early on, but some of the others caught me off-guard. As with all Berry books, I live for the dark psychological realness.

I really freaking like Darcie Little Badger's writing. I just want to live in the gentle worlds she creates, where everyone is kind and respects and supports one another, and sexuality/alternate gender expression is treated as normal and fine. I didn't like Elatsoe as much as I liked "A Snake Falls to Earth," but I still enjoyed it very much as a ghost-summoning girl pieces together the mystery behind her cousin's murder. Lots of Lipan/Apache culture mixed with (slightly) futuristic and fantastical touches.

Ghost 19 by Simone St. James didn't leave much of an impression. I like St. James, but short stories are hit-or-miss (usually miss) for me, and haunted house tales especially so. I don't have a fantastical bone in my body; no part of me believes in ghosts (or life after death in general), so it's hard to be spooked by ghost stories. But I did like that the protag was a "disgraced" actor in the 1920s... She likes sex and drugs, and she's not shy about it! That's pretty fun.

Eyyy, I finally finished Rachel Klein's The Moth Diaries! I think overall I preferred it to the movie (despite really liking the movie!) because the book focused a lot more on how our protagonist and Ernessa (the maybe-vampire stealing her best friend) are alike in that they're isolated by their Jewishness in an elite Catholic school. Vampirism is always a metaphor, and here it's about alienation due to ethnicity and sexuality. Loved it. Loved the "dark academia," "Gothic boarding school" vibes.

Oh, you know I've been waiting for Don't Fear the Reaper by Stephen Graham Jones for well over a year now. The second entry in any series is tricky, because you want it to measure up to the first while still bringing originality to the table. Jones knocked it out of the park. Jade is my most beloved Final Girl, and this is one of my all-time favorite horror series. The heart! The drama! The humor! The characters! I might need to re-read this before #3 comes out, though, because I was so excited to have it that I may have read too fast and missed some of the finer details.

After enjoying the anime so much, I wanted to read the My Hero Academia manga. I've finished volumes 1-12 (out of 37... So far! It's still ongoing!). The rampant misogyny is even more blatant in the manga, which is a huge bummer. That said, it's refreshing to have such an emotional, kind, empathetic male lead in a genre that revels in toxic masculinity. The portrayal of healthy masculinity and male friendships in MHA is surprisingly mature! Not to mention the thematic criticisms of consumer and celebrity culture/capitalism and the marginalization they cause, especially for mentally ill/impoverished/transgender people. You almost never see Japanese works criticizing authority figures and the entire prison/justice system, especially in superhero action series aimed at younger teens! It gives me some hope for the future of Shonen. (But seriously, Kohei Horikoshi: reevaluate the way you portray women. It sucks!)

And Then I Woke Up was a weird little short story by Malcolm Devlin that asks the question, "what if the zombie apocalypse isn't real? What if it's all just a mass delusion created by the public"? I didn't like it. Again: Short stories aren't my jam, and subversions of horror tropes aren't necessarily good or deep just because they're subversions. This story took a mildly interesting concept and then did nothing with it. The "They Live" movie from 1988 did it better.

My Daddy the Pedophile is a memoir by author Lily Palazzi about the sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her father, and (more importantly) the aftermath. Too many abuse narratives end when the abuse stops. As all survivors know, there's so much more than that. The police investigations and legal trials. The social and familial rejection. Rebuilding a life. Everything Lily learned about the different types of pedophilia/child sexual abuse, and how she breaks the cycle. Some readers were angered when Lily chose to forgive and pity her monstrous father, but there's no "wrong" way to be a survivor. If that's what she needed to find peace, more power to her. (I'm not nearly as forgiving towards my abusers, but that's a different story!)

Speaking of child predators! Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman is the charming love story (barf) of a 25-year-old man and a 17-year-old boy. (But Lyn! you argue. This was set in Italy, in the 80s! Social norms were different then!) I know. And I tried to give this book a chance. But I just hated it, okay?! I hated how rude and creepy Oliver was (Elio wasn't the only teenager he preyed on!). I hated how moody and gross Elio was (peach masturbation? Underwear sniffing? Eyelid licking?!) I could've forgiven all that if they were relatable or at least likable, but romance is already not my genre of choice. A romance where I dislike both leads is insufferable. What's the point when they're both miserable?! Just watch some gay porn while scrolling through scenic photos of Italian orchards; it'll be a more rewarding experience.

I really enjoyed Asa Akira's Insatiable: Porn — A Love Story, but it's not for everyone. As expected from a porn star's autobiography, it was crass and graphic, full of sex scenes and drug use. I watch a lot of porn, and although Asa's work isn't my personal cup of jizz, she's been a big-name star in the industry for decades. It was cool to read her perspective! Her narrative voice was blunt and matter-of-fact; often very funny. I loved her attitude, and learning how she manages her relationships; the pros and cons of her lifestyle, and the different jobs she's had, both in front of and behind the camera. Unfortunately, I found it to be more of an entertaining read than an enlightening one.

If I make a 'best of 2023' list, I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself by Marisa Crane will definitely be on it. I read lots of 'sad contemporary lesbian' books, but this one stands out by being dystopian. The president (who is totally not an expy of Trump/Hitler, cough cough) introduces new, fascist policies to America, and as always, marginalized folks feel it the hardest. This was a beautifully written character study with a unique and poetic voice. Found family, single parenthood, struggling to exist as your country becomes more and more tyrannical... I don't know a single young, queer American (myself included!) who doesn't already feel the suffocation of a boot on their neck. This book perfectly illustrates that thrum of perpetual anxiety, as well as the ways we continue to build lives and loves, despite the hardships. There's still hope in darkness.

On the opposite end of the queer lit spectrum is Tell Me I’m Worthless by Alison Rumfitt, which I hated so, so much... I wanted to love it! Trans characters written by a trans author exploring a haunted house! Sounds great! I was immediately turned off by the staggering amount of bigotry and negativity that put a huge nauseating weight onto everything (and yes, I get that that's THE POINT, but Mon Dieu is it hard to read so much unrelenting hate and bile!). And what the hell was up with that ending?! The message I gathered was that "everybody is hopelessly bigoted; there's no changing it. Rather than work to improve, we should just accept that we're all awful and the world sucks forever." Fuck that! If the author wasn't a trans woman, I would call this book incredibly transphobic. Maybe I didn't get it, or maybe it just sucked! You decide.

I don't feel like I'm giving any spoilers when I say that The Secrets We Keep by Cassie Gustafson is about a girl who claims her best friend's father molested her. There are a few other "twists" throughout that are pretty obvious, but that's fine; it's not a mystery. It's a tragedy. Our teen protagonist struggles to protect her family from police/social services, feels immense pressure from the abusive adults in her life, and feels mixed desires to cling to her best friend while still "punishing" her for causing such drama in the first place. It's well written and realistic, told from a traumatized teenager's limited understanding of very adult issues.

I finally read Our Violent Ends by Chloe Gong after two years of saying I would. In my defense, it's very long, at over 17 hours. Ms. Gong's writing is excellent. I never hated the Romeo and Juliet story, but it's hardly my favorite of Shakespeare's works. This series makes it way more fun with Chinese vs. Russian gang violence, set in Shanghai in the 1920s. With kaiju-esque bug monsters, because why not. And knowing I dislike YA romance, you'd think I'd hate this, but 1. It has a plot outside the romance 2. R&J are, individually, interesting characters, and 3. THEY ACTUALLY FUCK, as well as betray and harm each other, physically and otherwise. The stakes feel real (as opposed to YA's usual pussyfooting and failure to grasp that 'enemies to lovers' should, y'know, actually be enemies. And lovers.) So... Yeah, it's a good'un!

Primal Animals by Julia Lynn Rubin was better than I expected. Better than The Honeys, anyway, which I read earlier this year, although they were very similar in plot: rich, queer kids find themselves entangled with sinister girly cults at Rich Kid Summer Camp. (They have more than just that in common, but I don't want to spoil.) Usually YA horror is a snore-fest, but this one actually managed to disturb me! Kudos. And the protagonist was fairly likable, too.

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh, despite being a teensy novella written by a newbie author, is the fairytale that I've been waiting for all my life. It went onto my 'favorites' list immediately. After reading it, I purchased a copy for my best friend, and then I turned around and bought the sequel, too. I was obsessed with all things celtic/fairy for years... it's mostly fizzled out, but I still perk up at the mere mention of the fair folk. I'm well used to being disappointed by books that don't get it right, so imagine my delight with this. Snappy dialogue, gay pining, ancient foes, badass no-nonsense old ladies... So good.

My middle nephew asked to read the Underland Chronicles by Suzanne Collins (of 'Hunger Games' fame) together, and glory glory Hallelujah; it's a kid's series I actually enjoy. unlike a certain other series we read. We've finished the first two (of five) books, and they're great! A modern, urban spin on Alice in Wonderland. A creative and engaging plot! Rats and bats and bugs galore! Gregor is a precious lamb. You know that meme that's like "men will call themselves feminists, but still refuse to wash the damn dishes"? Gregor washes the damn dishes. And changes baby diapers. And shares his food, and views all sentient species with equality. Collins is aces at writing poverty, civil unrest, and strong sibling relationships.

The Witch and the Vampire by Francesca Flores is your classic lesbian "friends to enemies to lovers" tale, as well as a retelling of Rapunzel. Too bad it wasn't well-written. Info-dumping out the wazoo, poorly explained word-building, boring characters, and enough unnecessary angst to lubricate a fanfic-writing tweenager (as opposed to my crusty, fanfic-writing adult ass). Very forgettable and meh; everything I hate about YA fiction.

Such Sharp Teeth by Rachel Harrison was obnoxiously girly. Boyfriends and hookups and shopping and gal-pals and bleh. As for the trauma it centered around, I was like, "that's it? I went through way worse when I was half her age!" (Comparing trauma isn't fair or healthy and I shouldn't do it.) It felt too lighthearted and easy, for all that there was some decent werewolf gore. One of the themes was forgiveness, but all of the characters (the protagonist included!) who were forgiven didn't deserve it, in my opinion. I felt cheated when everything wrapped up so neatly. And why was abortion never on the table? If she was so reluctant to be a parent... Don't be one, then? At least discuss the option! I'd hoped for something a bit meatier and less fluffy. I've liked stuff by this author before, but this one missed the mark.

Goddess of Filth by V. Castro was a very short audiobook (around 4 hours) that I liked a lot. It's about four Hispanic girls who summon a spirit, who then possesses one of them... But it's not your standard possession story. The possession is actually a positive and sexually empowering experience for the very repressed girl, who works with and grows from the ancient goddess in her mind. Consensual body-sharing is a trope I always enjoy. It's so rare!

T. Kingfisher, my beloved! A House with Good Bones is her newest work. It's full of her usuals: practical, sexually empowered, unapologetically fat middle-aged woman who don't need no man? Check. A beloved family member in need of assistance? Check. Hilarious, powerful elderly people? Check. Sinister hauntings in unexpected places? Check. A helpful, friendly beefcake of a love interest? Check. Focus on the scientific specifics of local flora and fauna (this time insects and vultures and roses)? Check! Unsettling, vaguely explained parallel dimensions? Check and mate! This was fun, and very cozy. I had it read in just a few hours.

Sister, Maiden, Monster by Lucy A. Snyder was... A lot. My best friend had to DNF it, and I wish I'd followed her example. I'm not a splatterpunk fan; I find it depressing, needlessly gross, and pointless. Dropping acid while reading the Book of Revelations would give you a similar experience to this book. The author was trying to do a lot here, and her efforts felt very clumsy. (Ex: a white woman murders a Black woman, then has a monologue about how it was morally wrong and antifeminist for her to do so. I could practically hear the author pleading, "don't cancel me! I'm Aware that this is Problematic™!") And then she turns around and name-drops victims of Dahmer. Did her editors not think to say "hey babe, let's leave the real dead teenagers out of your apocalyptic sci-fi horror novel"? I did like the last few pages, though.

I needed a palate cleanser after SMM, and Batcat: The Ghostly Guest by Meggie Ramm was perfect. An absolutely adorable kid's graphic novel, I was surprised to learn it was a metaphor for being nonbinary. I'd thought it was a metaphor for being mixed-race. True, Batcat uses they/them pronouns, but presenting them as half cat, half bat doesn't really fit. NB people aren't "half girl, half boy," they're their own thing. Still, this was very cute and funny, and gender is a spectrum, so I'm sure some queer kids will see themselves in our feline-pteropine friend. (The author is nonbinary, so obviously they're writing from experience, too.)

Finally got my mitts on that infamous cannibal romance(?) novel, written by a weird vegan who equates eating animals with eating human beings (Camille DeAngelis). Bones & All was... Interesting. I interpreted it as a metaphor for how sexual abuse can lead to hypersexuality and difficulty connecting with others. I don't think it was a coincidence that the first people Maren and Lee ever ate were their babysitters, and there's definitely something in how out-of-control Maren feels while consuming boys/men, immediately followed by deep regret and shame. (I later read theories that suggested it's a metaphor for addiction, and maybe that makes more sense, but listen: I don't know much about addiction. I do know a lot about sexual abuse. When all you have is a hammer...) This was messy and imperfect. I understand why it has mixed reviews, but I liked it.

Part of deprogramming from the Mormon cult (and coping with my own sexual abuse) was dealing with my hangups regarding sexuality. Some might say I've done too good a job of it, between my work as a phone sex operator/erotica author and my research in human sexuality at ye olde community college. Kinks/paraphiles and the history of human sexuality are big interests of mine, and I fully agree with a lot of what this book says about the Christian/Puritan hegemony that dictates our culture as Americans — yes, even atheist Americans like myself; that's what 'hegemony' means — and that our extreme reactions and low understanding of paraphiles (including pedophilia!) is a real problem that we need to have more empathy for. Perv: The Sexual Deviant in All of Us by Jesse Bering didn't teach me a dang thing I don't already know, but it was a fun read... I'd recommend it to newbies in the sex/kink positive community. My one criticism: the author uses outdated terminology for trans folks, and claims there are only four sexualities. Oof.

The Rabbit Hutch by Tess Gunty was an ambitious mess that I can't really recommend to anyone, but I still liked. Even if the penultimate scene read a lot like a Contrapoints video, wherein she wears different costumes and debates herself about capitalism and feminism. The point of view shifted between a bunch of different people all living at an apartment complex for one eventful week in July, and while I liked their perspectives and the pretty, flowy writing, a lot of the plots trailed off with no real conclusion. It lacked focus and ended abruptly. I think this would've benefitted from a few more rounds with a strict editor and a "kill your darlings" attitude. (The idea that single instances of sexual coercion and power imbalance can be compared to the wreckage of capitalism as a whole is an interesting one, though.)

I DNF'd a few books, too. Andy Weir's Project Hail Mary (the narrator's dudebro I'M SO MACHO voice was annoying), Katherine Applegate's Home of the Brave (Ms. Apples, I love you madly, but you are way too white and American to write this book without sounding patronizing as hell), Pittacus Lore's I Am Number Four (I just found it boring), Frances Hodgson Burnett's A Little Princess (oh woe is me, it's so hard being a rich white girl surrounded by inferior Indian people in... India...), Sharyn Higdon Jones's Healing Steps: A Gentle Path to Recovery for Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse because it hit way too close to home and started triggering my rage response (apparently when I'm triggered, I just get mad and punchy. Not very productive, tbh), and Hiron Ennes's Leech and David Koepp's Aurora (so boring). As always, I don't count DNFs towards my yearly reading goal, and neither should you. For shame!

Also I made these Fruits Basket-inspired Chinese Zodiac ornaments by painting a bunch of rocks. This has nothing to do with anything, but they're very cute, I'm bad at ending blog posts, and I wanted to show them off. Time to focus on buying a car and finding a new job; not necessarily in that order. (Did I mention I can now leg-press 240 pounds? I guess physical therapy is good for something.) So... Bye!