#WeekendReads: Night Beast by Ruth Joffre

The past two weeks have been a bit weird. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Lexi and out in my garden. My anxiety is high right now for a number of reasons, so I’ve also been making time to sit on my porch and read in the evenings. All of this helps, but it’s still a process. It will always be a process.

Thankfully, there are books. Reading centers me, grounds me, makes me feel connected to my innermost self (the self that I can only really express through writing fiction). Recently, I was lucky enough to receive a digital ARC (advanced reading copy) of Ruth Joffre’s debut short story collection, Night Beast and Other Stories.”

cover of Night Beast

I blew through this collection. I inhaled it as if it were air. It is so, so good. You can read my full review on the Ploughshares Blog, but here’s a snippet:

Reading this collection feels like looking at the world through water—the angles don’t quite match what you expect and the light is diffuse, except when a ripple catches it and momentarily robs you of vision. Joffre’s characters are wispy and insubstantial in the way ghosts of past selves feel when we look back through the haze of time. If you turn your head or look away, they will shift into something else, something new. Something dangerous.

Joffre is one of those writers who makes me go “I WANT TO WRITE LIKE THAT!!” I read this collection once for the journey it took me on, but I will definitely read it again for the craft lessons hiding in its pages (some of which I do address in my review).

If you like strange, queer, unnerving, mysterious fiction with a bite, you absolutely have to read Night Beast and Other Stories. That is a non-negotiable fact.

New flash fiction in Uproot!

I have a short short story—”Lonely Weather”—in Issue 5 of Uproot, a journal focused on “place, migration, and dislocation.”

Mia walks west. She walks without stopping for rest, for sleep, for food, for water, because she is a ghost and feels no physical pain. The word echoes in her mind: ghost, ghost, ghost.

She hopes that the miles will wear her down to air, that time will erase her memory.

Keep reading at Uproot! (Content warning, though, for suicide.)

This story comes from my collection, She’s Tired of Going Nowhere. It’s part of a mini-cycle within the collection about a group of women who’ve died because of patriarchal/capitalist violence and what they make of the afterlife. This particular one is not super uplifting, but it’s not meant to be, because not all victims of violence—whether straight up physical violence or the kind of environmental violence I tackle in “Lonely Weather”—get happy endings.

#FridayReads: The Female of the Species by Mindy McGinnis

cover for The Female of the SpeciesI don’t read a ton of YA, but for whatever reason I found myself craving a good young adult novel at the beginning of the year. I’d seen all the buzz for The Female of the Species by Mindy McGinnis, so I checked it out from my local library. Boy, what a ride.

This book tackles the difficult subjects of sexual violence and justice. Alex, the central character, seeks justice for her sister, who was kidnapped, tortured, raped and ultimately murdered and dismembered. Lacking enough evidence for a conviction, Anna’s killer goes free. So Alex digs in deep to the dark parts of herself and takes matters into her own hands.

Alex is prepared to spend the rest of her life in isolation, hiding from society. But then she makes friends, and then she falls in love. Alex begins to think she can be normal, maybe, when a group of junkies tries to rape her friend. Soon it becomes clear that she cannot keep the violence within her silent, not with sexual predators targeting the people she cares about.

The Female of the Species is a sort of tragic superhero novel, one where the hero treads the line between serving justice and taking revenge, one where there can’t be any happy endings.

The ending is certainly not happy, but it is satisfying. McGinnis doesn’t treat her characters or subject matter like a black and white canvas where right and wrong are clearly delineated. Her characters, and not just Alex, cross lines. They transgress. They do stupid teenage stuff and have to pay the consequences. But what McGinnis does make clear, again and again, is that no matter how stupid or out of line someone is, they do not deserve to be raped. They do not deserve to be assaulted.

Alex’s greatest strength is that she understands this simple fact. She sticks up for her friends, but she also sticks up for the girl trying to steal her boyfriend. In a way, Alex sacrifices her own humanity so that the other girls in her hometown don’t have to live in a world haunted by violation and fear.

The Female of the Species isn’t an easy book to read, in a lot of ways, but it’s an important one. You won’t regret picking it up.