A darkly comic memoir-in-essays about the scam of the American Dream and doing whatever it takes to survive in the Sunshine State—from the award-winning author of High-Risk Homosexual
“Relatable, funny and deeply heartfelt, this memoir is one not to miss.”—Today
“Edgar Gomez is a young writer of deep talent and enormous grace.”—James McBride, New York Times bestselling author of The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store
A MOST ANTICIPATED BOOK OF THE Today, The Millions, Paste
In Florida, one of the first things you’re taught as a child is that if you’re ever chased by a wild alligator, the only way to save yourself is to run away in zigzags. It’s a lesson on survival that has guided much of Edgar Gomez’s life.
Like the night his mother had a stroke while he and his brother stood frozen at the foot of her bed, afraid she’d be angry if they called for an ambulance they couldn’t afford. Gomez escaped into his mind, where he could tell himself nothing was wrong with his family. Zig. Or years later, as a broke college student, he got on his knees to put sandals on tourists’ smelly, swollen feet for minimum wage at the Flip Flop Shop. After clocking out, his crew of working-class, queer, Latinx friends changed out of their uniforms in the passenger seats of each other’s cars, speeding toward the relief they found at Pulse Nightclub in Orlando. Zag. From committing a little bankruptcy fraud for the money for veneers to those days he paid his phone bill by giving massages to closeted men on vacation, back when he and his friends would Venmo each other the same emergency twenty dollars over and over. Zig. Zag. Gomez survived this way as long as his legs would carry him.
Alligator Tears is a fiercely defiant memoir-in-essays charting Gomez’s quest to claw his family out of poverty by any means necessary and exposing the archetype of the humble poor person for what it a scam that insists we remain quiet and servile while we wait for a prize that will always be out of reach. For those chasing the American Dream and those jaded by it, Gomez’s unforgettable story is a testament to finding love, purpose, and community on your own terms, smiling with all your fake teeth.
Edgar Gomez is a queer NicaRican writer born and raised in Florida. He is the author of the memoir High-Risk Homosexual, winner of the American Book Award, a Stonewall Israel-Fishman Nonfiction Book Honor Award, and the Lambda Literary Award. Their sophomore book, Alligator Tears, will be released in February 2025 from Crown. A graduate of the University of California’s MFA program, Gomez has written for The LA Times, Poets & Writers, Lithub, New York Magazine, and beyond. He has received fellowships from The New York Foundation for the Arts, The National Endowment for the Arts, and The Black Mountain Institute. He lives between New York and Puerto Rico. Find him across social media @OtroEdgarGomez.
I thought this was a step up from Edgar Gomez’s debut nonfiction book, High-Risk Homosexual. In Alligator Tears, he does a great job of centering the theme of class and how growing up without much money affected him, without it coming across as too didactic. His tone is relatable and down-to-earth. He’s also unabashedly queer, which is great, and it was fun and familiar to read about some of his youthful gay adventures (e.g., dating a fellow closeted teen online, a painful breakup in his 20’s in NYC, etc.) I most appreciated his centering of the queer Latine working class experience, as well as how he didn’t center whiteness at all in this collection.
Though I found some of the later essays even more readable, for some reason Gomez’s prose didn’t exactly click with me throughout this collection. It was readable and coherent, but it didn’t elicit excitement. Still, the content is quality so I still give this book four stars.
In Alligator Tears Gomez offers intimate stories and insightful social commentary to explore his childhood and identity in ten stunning, witty and inviting personal essays. He takes readers through his tumultuous childhood, growing up Latinx and poor with a single mother raising two kids who is just doing her damn best to get by. He writes about his queerness and love; about Florida and substance abuse; about his absent father and his fierce love for his mother; about fake friends and faker teeth; about the Pulse nightclub tragedy and the pandemic. For what seems like a lot of ground to cover in 256 pages of words, Alligator Tears never once made me feel like it was doing too much. Quite the opposite, I only found myself wanting more and more. Each essay flowed seamlessly in to the next and I couldn't wait to hear what story Gomez had to tell me next.
This collection will move readers, just like it moved me, in ways they won’t see coming. Gomez has a gift for storytelling and a narrative voice that I am excited to follow. A must-read essay collection for 2025.
Thank you Crown Publishing for the early copy in exchange for an honest review. Available Feb. 11 2025
In his second memoir, Edgar Gomez recalls growing up in a poor, single-parent household in Florida and finding his way as a writer nurtured by a queer Latinx community. The pieces trace a rough path from adolescence to adulthood. The book contrasts superficiality and success with struggle and disillusionment, as both Gomez and his mother awakened to the American Dream's false promise. Although medical crises and tragedies are threads running through the collection, Gomez maintains a light tone. Life is sometimes unjust or demeaning for him as a queer person of color, yet he has found powerful communities of care. His anecdotes often touch on pop culture and are fun and sex-positive. The stories of rekindling connections with family members are touching.
See my full review at BookBrowse. (See also my article on The Memoir-in-Essays as a form.)
I had the extreme pleasure of reading this book early and I honestly could not put it down. Edgar’s writing is charming, hilarious, painfully beautiful, and unfairly heartfelt. Like, crying on NJ Public Transit beautiful. You really, really do not want to miss out on this book when it hits the shelves!
Representation: 💃🏻: Queer Characters 💃🏻: Discussions around poverty, homosexuality and family
🥵: Spice: 🚫 Potential Triggers: domestic violence **check authors page/socials for full list.
General Thoughts: I enjoyed this Memior very much! The author narrating really gave it a personal and emotional feel. I loved how the author dug deep and didn't hold back as he discussed harder topics and how they affected his life. I felt like I knew his mother from the stories about her. He painted those around him with a loving and vibrant light.
I appreciated the authors willingness to discuss hard topics like sexuality, poverty and events like the shooting at Pulse Nightclub. I wasn't expecting those frank conversations and it really helped connect me to the author and their story. Much of it was very relatable and interesting to me.
I will be reading the authors other books asap.
Disclaimer: I read this audiobook via Libby. I read along periodically with the hardcover which was gifted from Crown Publishing. All opinions are my own. This is my honest and voluntary review.
This was a very quick read. I listened to the audio which was read by the author who did an excellent job. The stories in this book were heartbreaking although I do not feel Edgar was looking for pity or sympathy… maybe just some empathy which we should all have for one another. I hope Edgar continues to write. Bravo! You should be commended for all your accomplishments!
I can always count on Gomez’ writing to be a place I can come to laugh. To celebrate. To grieve. To hurt. To find hope. To devastate me. To remember why we do this— us, queer artists. We’re so lucky to exist at the same time as this book, that this book exists at the same time as us.
“I cried, because somehow, I underestimated how much the world hated us.”
Gomez has crafted beautifully heartbreaking, uproariously funny, and viciously 2000s essays, each of which demonstrates that community is survival, and community is love, and community is far better than the adoration of the entire world.
My heart is glad to have read this memoir all about finding your tribe and the pretty false story of pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. The struggle truly never ends but having people out there who understand sure does make a world of difference. Gosh when his mom apologized after reading his book! And the dedication made me smile.
This was amazing! I resonated with so many of the themes in this book, and I’m excited to read more from this author. One day I will meet Edgar Gomez and tell him how much I enjoyed this and thank him for inspiring me to sit down and write!
Read this as part of the good reads challenge. I was very excited to read it, and don’t get me wrong I can appreciate it is a beautiful story covering important themes BUT it felt disjointed and not very well written. It didn’t come together the way I hoped it would.
I’m not crying, you’re crying. What a bittersweet, lovely memoir in essays about growing up in an immigrant Latino family - in Florida no less, queerness, finding ways to make ends meet by any means necessary, writing as a craft and trying to make it as a writer, COVID lockdown, finding love, gender identity, and more. It’s about all the heavy and complicated feelings kids in immigrant families have about our parents, through their backbreaking work and the disappointments we feel about their lives/ our lives. Ultimately we love our families and the last essay made me cry pulling weeds so. There’s an essay about the Pulse night club and the gay scene in Orlando which is an amazing, heartbreaking tribute. There are also more lighthearted essays that include topics such as becoming a YouTube beauty influencer or working at a flip flop store in the mall. I loved the writing: emotional, touching; it feels like a warm hug from a friend I care about and want to see succeed. It reminded me of another superb memoir that’s a love letter to mothers and the queer community: How We Fight For Our Lives by Saeed Jones.
thank you to netgalley, crown publishing and edgar gomez for the privilege of reading this book early in exchange for a review. this book was great and completely engrossed me into edgar’s stories. as a floridian, and someone who grew up queer in a small town longing for more, this book felt kindred to me. i loved hearing gomez’s stories of growing up in his culture and trying to find himself within that, being queer, appeasing his parents, amending relationships and longing for a life outside of the mundanity. you’re not going to want to skip this one! add this to your tbr now!
One of the best, most vulnerable memoirs I’ve read. Even though I have very little in common with the author in terms of background and upbringing, I found the stories to be so relatable. I laughed, cried, worried, and smiled throughout. A must-read for sure, especially in these turbulent times.
“This is a place where people aren’t afraid to dream— usually, that dream being to get famous enough to move away.”
When the author talked about riding around Orlando with their mom shit talking the ugly McMansions and how their house would be bigger and better someday I almost cried. Glad to know this is a universal experience of poor kids growing up in a Mickey Mouse town.
I have not read High Risk Homosexual, but I definitely will now. Normally I have a hard time staying focused through collections of short stories and essays, but this was chosen for a book club so I gave it a shot. Gomez kept me turning each page until the end even though there are large gaps of time between each essay. This story is obviously personal (duh it's a memoir), but each story is intentional, and the writing is so funny, charming, and genuine.
This memoir brought a flood of nostalgia and memories—America's Next Top Model, white lies on MySpace, the temporary people who drifted in and out of your life yet still left a mark, and navigating life with a loving but avoidant mother. Edgar Gomez is around the same age as I am, and reading these essays transported me deep into my own memories. Reading life stories from underrepresented writers is so rewarding.
What a talented young author! His memoir is real and inspiring. A marginalized young Hispanic gay man struggling to find his place in the world and sharing his most intimate fears and dreams . What spoke to me is the struggle he’s ensued and how much immigrants are taken advantage of by American Capitalism and sold the lie of working hard and they too can achieve the American Dream.
“Witnessing the return of Mom's illness, it finally hit me how brainwashed I'd been, how flawed was the line of thinking that hard work and humility would save me. Those things hadn't saved her. And no amount of pretending things might be different one day would change that. Suddenly, I saw the archetype of the humble poor person for what it was: a scam that justifies scarcity, that tells poor folks our suffering is for our benefit, that it will build so-called strength; a dangling carrot to keep us quiet and servile while we wait for a prize that may always be out of reach. Even the dream of "one day" has been taken from us. We can't afford to buy homes. We can't afford to go to the dentist. We must take out massive loans to go to col-lege, only to graduate into impossible job markets. Our libraries are closing while budgets increase for the police, who imprison anyone who can't attord a place to live, or mental health resources, or fare for the train. We've been told there won't be enough Social Security left for us to retire, or safe air to breathe, and that it's all our fault for having the audacity to treat ourselves to an iced coftee to stay awake.”