thanks to Edelweiss and The Feminist Press at CUNY for the advanced digital copy!
this fantastic collection is out August 12th, 2025.
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the new lesbian pulp is an absolute ride. no single rating feels right here. this is an anthology, after all. but it's consistently entertaining, often surprising, and a genuinely fun, easy-to-read collection. some stories thrilled me, others lost me completely, and one involved incest and very weird stuff with a snake, but that's kind of the joy of it. this isn't sanitized queer literature. it's messy, sexy, occasionally horrifying, and deeply unserious in the best way.
i appreciated the range of voices here - trans lesbians, lesbians of color, butches, femmes, and people who fall somewhere in between. there are classics from lorraine hansberry and alice dunbar-nelson interspersed with new work by writers like anna dorn, m.j. corey, sarah schulman, and grace byron. it's not quite what i expected from "pulp," but i loved the chaos of it.
standouts for me include palm desert by anna dorn, which i would give a million stars. it's dark, sexy, weird, and hilarious - everything i wanted. kidnap me and feed me gruyère and dark chocolate, please. i also adored catacomb voice by octavia c. saenz, which starts as a covid-era queer sex party in an evicted home and turns into a gothy resurrection ritual. give me the movie. now.
jouissance by nadine santoro was another fave. i didn't know i needed the bully-to-lovers trope in a lesbian context, but it worked. funny, chaotic, full of heart. rookie mistake by grace byron (aka a trans girl fleabag of sorts) was also a standout, especially with the l word mention and the visceral fear of becoming the jenny of your friend group. painful. real. pH by trae higgs and rebound by m.j. corey both hit that early 2000s internet girl nostalgia sweet spot, and i felt very seen.
the other stand-out was cottonmouth. cottonmouth... well. be warned that there was surprise incest that was both underage and graphic and weird stuff with a snake. smoke and seabreeze by lillian james nailed a kind of buddy cop noir energy that felt super cinematic and atmospheric, and notes in a minor key by shamim sharif was tender, mysterious, and emotionally layered in a way i didn't expect.
the collection blends pulp aesthetics - melodrama, moral ambiguity, high-stakes sex and violence - with a much more contemporary sensibility. it doesn't play clean or safe. it lets queer people be wild, messy, unlikable, chaotic. it also blends sincerity with absurdity in a way that's really fun to read. even when a story wasn’t my thing, i admired the boldness of including it.
whether you're in it for the sex, the nostalgia, the horror, the literary nods, or the general lesbian chaos, there's something in here that’ll grab you. and maybe bite a little.