It’s been a really long time since I have had such a visceral reaction to a book. Around a month or so ago, a good friend of mine recommended Miriam Toews’ All My Puny Sorrows after realizing we shared the same love of books that hold the capacity to destroy their reader. 

[Q]ueer romances have far fewer representations in the media, and often the ones we do aren’t written by us, and are rooted in pain and trauma. This, for me, is a huge part of why I believe queer love stories are so important to share–because seeing ourselves represented gives those of us who don’t yet feel safe or seen a place to have their experiences reflected back and honoured.

It’s in fiction that we find pieces of ourselves yet to be discovered, that we recognize our own humanity in the eyes of figures expressed in words and alive through our imagination.