A Year in Reading: Edgar Gomez

I began this year moving from Puerto Rico to New York so that I could launch my debut memoir, High-Risk Homosexual. I’d planned a big party at a bookstore with a $30 wine budget and everything, but Omicron said haha sike! the moment my plane arrived in Queens and the event was cancelled. At the last minute, the launch was switched to Zoom, and I ended up sitting in my living room in Jackson Heights in front of my laptop, wearing the knock-off JLO Versace dress a friend of a friend had let me borrow for my big night (all gay people are seven degrees of separation from a bootleg JLo Versace dress). I was honestly not that upset about the cancellation, because first, it was too cold outside to wear that dress, and second, there was this whole safety-pin-thong situation going on that no one needed to experience in-person anyway. Plus I got to have three bottles of Papi wine to myself. I’d say this set the tone for the books I would go on to read the rest of the year. I had a lot of grand plans, but mostly I just read whatever I had nearby because the weather outside was bad and my outfit was a public danger.

Fiction:

Summer Fun by Jeanne Thornton. I bought this book after reading with Thornton at an event. She was incredible. I truly can’t remember hearing so many people laughing at a reading. Like, full on cackling and clapping and screaming. The book is set between New Mexico and California and follows a young trans woman named Gala who is obsessed with witchcraft and is a superfan of a band similar to The Beach Boys. Beautiful writing. Especially felt close to Gala’s best friend, who is trying to make things work with her family.

Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzalez. I had no idea what this novel would be about going into it and was so pleasantly surprised. It’s part rom-com about a New York wedding planner navigating gentrification and a dysfunctional family, part critique on U.S. colonialism in Puerto Rico, which has only ramped up throughout the pandemic. Really inspired by how she weaves political discourse into her fiction and so happy to see this book everywhere. I also like Gonzalez’s column in the Atlantic titled “Brooklyn, Everywhere.”

The Town of Babylon by Alejandro Varela. Another novel that is deservedly getting lots of fantastic attention. About a gay, Colombian/Salvadoran man named Andrés who returns to his hometown for his high school reunion. The two characters that stuck with me most are Simone, a Black woman dealing with mental illness, and Henry, Andrés’ older brother. The main character Andrés is an intelligent, bitchy, mess, like all my favorite narrators.

Brown Girls by Daphne Palasi Andreades. I’ve seen this book described as a “chorus of voices” and that’s exactly what my experience reading it was like, mixed with a little choose-your-own adventure. Follows (dozens? hundreds?) of Brown girls living in Queens using the “we” voice. I had the privilege of reading this book while living in Jackson Heights, Queens (*airhorn*) and Andreades captures the borough perfectly. She’s a master of imagery. Devoured in one day.

Runaways by Alice Munroe. My roommate Erika beat me to buying this after we watched Fire Island together (lol) and kindly left it out on our coffee table. I read the first four stories and loved them but then I started feeling guilty about hogging Erika’s book so I put it back.

Kiss the Scars on the Back of My Neck by Joe Okonkwo. Stories about both real and fictional queer Black folks navigating desire. My favorite was about Blues singer Gladys Bentley and a police raid at the club where she performed the horniest music ever written.

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters. Adored this. Three women trying to figure out what to do about an unexpected pregnancy. The interiority. The drama. The anger and vulnerability. I saw so many people in my life in these characters. My copy is destroyed because I brought it with me everywhere.

Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams. Hysterical novel about a Jamaican British woman, described on the jacket copy as “Bridget Jones’ Diary meets Americanah.” Had me laughing, cringing, and deep-sighing throughout.

Kentukis by Samantha Schweblin. (Titled Little Eyes in English, I read the Spanish version). Creepy book full of juicy, entertaining characters. Reminded me of an episode of Black Mirror. It’s about these stuffed animals with cameras and wheels on the bottom that anonymous users control. You can either buy one and have people watch you, or be the one who watches.

Nonfiction:

Ordinary Girls by Jaquira Díaz. Gorgeously-written coming-of-age memoir about a queer Puerto Rican woman with a dysfunctional family growing up both on the island and in Miami. Similar to Xochitl Gonzalez in that the weaving of the personal and political regarding Puerto Rican history is spot on. Díaz can write write! Her voice is sensual, lyrical, vivid. Girl, she’s deep!

Brown Neon by Raquel Gutiérrez. Essays on queer identity, the borderlands, art. Reading this slowly but really enjoying so far. Gutierrez packs a lot of wisdom into these pages.

How to Grow Up by Michelle Tea. Picked this up because I wanted to read something funny about growing up poor, and it was all of that and more. I loved that she doesn’t avoid telling readers what things cost and the chapter on fashion, my two favorite things to read about.

Meaty by Samantha Irby. This was a re-read, for the same reason as the Michelle Tea book, but also because I wanted to read funny writing about illness. She touches on pretty much everything: health, food, family, being broke. I’ll probably read this like 10 more times. “My Mother, My Daughter” is one of my top essays, not just from this book but of all time.

Punch Me Up to the Gods by Brian Broome. Coming-of-age queer memoir. Smart, generous, insightful. This book does a few things with structure and POV that made me very excited. My two favorite chapters are one about watching Luther Vandross perform on SNL (I don’t really cry reading books but this one made me tear up), and one told through his mother’s eyes.

Sex and the Single Woman: 24 Writers Reimagine Helen Gurley Brown’s Cult Classic, edited by Eliza Smith and Haley Swanson. Anthology of essays on dating and singlehood by writers of varying backgrounds. I don’t think I can pick a favorite essay; there’s so many great ones here. Minda Honey. Natalie Lima. Melissa Febos. Kristen Arnett. Morgan Parker. Seema Reza. I mean! I ended up going to three different events for this book? At one of them, a person in the audience asked one of the contributors what their favorite thing about being single has been, and they answered that it’s that they’ve had more time to be a great aunt. Will maybe never stop thinking about that.

Once I Was You by Maria Hinojosa. Memoir about Hinojosa’s career in journalism. Touches on racism, immigration, and misogyny.

Poetry:

Diaries of a Terrorist by Christopher Soto. Queer, Salvadoran, abolitionist poetry. What’s not to like???

Muscle Memory by Kyle Carrero Lopez. One of the best poets out there right now. Enamored with Lopez since I ran into them dancing at a gay bar one night and everything I’ve read by them since has blown me away. Truly fearless writing. Buy this, read “Ode to the Crop Top,” then go on a long, beautiful walk.

La extraña paradoja de mi vida by Clara Cuevas. I found this at a bookstore in San Juan for $1 and have gifted copies to like 3 people. Earnest and almost painfully horny poetry about God.

Mother Tongue by Chaelee Dalton. Bold, funny, celebratory, profound. Kept having to stop reading to recite lines to my boyfriend.

Graphic Novels:

The Cruising Diaries by Brontez Purnell. I bought this at BookPeople in Austin because I loved 100 Boyfriends and this felt like a mini, illustrated version of that. Purnell always makes me laugh and want to be a more confident, sexually-liberated person. Reading his books has truly changed what I thought writing could be and do. I read this on one 30-minute train ride, giggling and with one eye over my shoulder to make sure no one was peeking.

I am finishing the year back in Puerto Rico, and one of the toughest things about the move has been deciding what books were worth a pound towards my luggage weight limit. I might have been a little overly confident and impulsively decided that I would only bring four so that I could start a new library here. Those are Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde, Sula by Toni Morrison, Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston, and Mecca by Susan Straight. The weather is nice and most of my clothes fit properly thus far, so I have no excuse to not go to a bookstore.