Red Rock Baby Candy | 
Looking at the art in this book feels more like going to an art gallery than reading a graphic memoir!
#QueerBooks
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Looking at the art in this book feels more like going to an art gallery than reading a graphic memoir!
#QueerBooks
pickGorgeous. Really sucked me in, with the complexity of the mix between (both cursive and typed) writing and images - multi-media collage, sketches, painting, telling a deeply personal story of discovering sexuality/identity/aesthetic, finding a partner, raising a child, child's own gender journey, grieving miscarriage(s?), infertility and how the medical establishment treated a lesbian couple, and the death of a parent. Bold and beautiful.
so-soThe relatively low rating is entirely due to my personal response to the book and nothing to do with the quality. I read this picture book as part of the #lgbtqbookbingo2021 challenge. I'm not usually triggered by a female immersive experience any longer but this one was challenging, surfacing some nearly forgotten feelings (pre-transition/medical intervention).
Longer review:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/4204331873
#queer
#doublespin
pickWow! How to describe the art & text in this nonlinear graphic memoir by a Jewish lesbian Canadian? Stream-of-consciousness/Impressionistic/Exuberant/Visual jazz. The span of 10 years includes the pain of infertility, miscarriage & the death of her father. It‘s also about celebrating life. Spector shows her naked body: having sex, bathing, menstruating. She loves lipstick & dresses & her lingerie is drying on the shower rod. #LGBTQ #comics
Sophie! Listen, this is brilliant. You know what Aly used to call cartwheels? Star shaped rolling.
Spector: I was a weird teenager.
Spector‘s transgender child, Max: duh.
Death is coming but so is life. Life is blazing out of you like a high speed comet on a crash course for your attention. It‘s coming fast! It‘s already here!
Every page is packed with feelings and layers of meaning. Here, Spector wants to be held by her wife, to find release from anxiety & sadness through orgasm. On the shelf is a box of “Calm the Fuck Down Herbal Tea.” Her hand is reaching to turn the blender “On.” The speed is set at “liquify.” Across the blender and down her hand are words alluding to Gertrude Stein‘s famously erotic lesbian poem, Lifting Belly: “Lift me until I see stars.”
This memoir is making me cry.
Television stands in for fireplaces in the modern world. Like fire it encourages groups of people to fall into trances—but instead everyone is dreaming the same dream.
