I wanted to do something a little different today. I am uploading this newsletter to everyone, as a sneak peak into what I send out weekly to my free tier! The free tier also has access to the discord Book club, and the October book will be "No Bones About It" by Cassandra Elizabeth. It is about a woman who gets f*cked by her 12ft yard skeleton! Consensually of course. It's a super fun, smutty good time, perfect for the Halloween season!

The $5 tier gives you access to a video book club call each month and a few more perks. Including just feeling good about being cool and supporting me :)

Chapter 14

Icarus tried to inhale, but his head was full of bees. His body wouldn’t respond to him, the limp and disobedient thing. He stared at the demon leering at him with such hate it sent heat along the current of air passing between them.

“I don’t understand,” he heard himself whisper. “What did Daedalus do? Who did he deceive?”

Mariusz snarled again and strained against his bonds in a surge of violence, “Does your Church tell you nothing? Do they not explain to you how they send their priests one after the other into Tir Na Nog? Their effort to rip and tear and force your Pale God into the guts of every creature that walks this world and the next?!”

Icarus didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand, none of it made any sense, the Church preached the gospel of the Pale God in an effort to spread His word and turn people away from the costly fae netherism that was rotting their souls. What care should a demon have for the business of fae?

That wasn’t exactly true, though, was it. Icarus had a long history with the Church, their way of leveraging Doctrine when it suited and ignoring it when it did not. His entire relationship with Maren existed because of the hypocrisy of that same Church. If he really forced himself to consider it, when had they ever stopped anyone from pursuing a path that would lead them to self-annihilation?

A boom from behind the door broke Icarus out of his stupor, “Shit.”

“Best hurry,” Mariusz taunted. “They will tear your little lock apart.”

His mind raced and he tried to sort out all of his questions, “Daedalus is alive. Somewhere. The Church has been sending, what, evangelists into the Veil? Why?”

“Evangelists once, yes. Now, something else. Doorstops in the efforts made to heal the tears they leave in the Veil. Propping it open so things can… slip through,” it swirled a malformed hand in a gesture and he felt his heart constrict. 

Doorstops. Leaving the Veil open to allow things through. Icarus was going to be sick. The Veil was a thin space, the barrier erected after the Great Fracture to keep the realms of man and fae and demon apart from one another—forged from the sacrifice of the Pale Son when He was at the zenith of His holy magic. Now the Church was allowing creatures through in hopes of grounding them in the bodies of men. Why? 

He tried to pick up the pieces of his scattered brain and put them back together, but he kept dropping them over new and more complicated details. Maren filled in the space his mind left blank, “They’re allowing possessions to happen on purpose.”

Mariusz hummed an affirmation and grinned, “You believe the Pale God of All does not know the faeries? Is God so weak in your eyes that He cannot see what magic He wove into His own world? What began as an effort to save has become… lucrative in encouraging faith.”

“They let people become vessels for demons and fae to increase… Mass attendance?” Icarus heard his voice rise in anger and indignation despite his numbness.

Mariusz bobbed his head in that noncommittal way Icarus was beginning to find loathsome, “Among other reasons. It is costly business, your Church, is it not? What better way to sell it than to let someone see what awaits?”

Icarus tried to exchange a look with Maren, but she was fixed on the Inquisitor in front of them and wouldn’t meet his eyes. He saw it in the tick of her jaw, the tension in her fingers—the incandescent rage bubbling under her skin. 

“What other reasons?” He prompted instead. 

Mariusz sucked black flecks of decay from his gums, “Your Church is more divided than you know. Some wish to see the End of Days, some wish to embrace the secular, some wish to entreat with fae and demon and put an end to these divided existences. The Veil remains ajar for many reasons put forth by many men.”

Another boom followed by the wail of straining wood. Icarus winced. 

“Continue, little priest, or you will lose your chance,” Mariusz drawled, almost bored.

“What does my father have to do with all of this?” He spoke faster. He needed to focus, ask for answers he came to get from this thing. The Church’s business could remain the Church’s business, he needed to know more about Daedalus and what his role was in all of this. 

Mariusz jerked his head as if trying to dislodge something. He barked a half-cry and the muscles in his neck bulged, head tossed back in a seizure constricted by his bonds. Icarus took another step towards him, then retracted—a trick, surely. 

Its head hung and it made a plaintive noise. Its voice changed—whimpering, lost, afraid. The singular tone of a man in pain, “Please… please free me from this… I didn’t know it would be… I didn’t know this is what it would be… please… if you have any soul left, please kill-”

It seized again and a roar ripped through its chest—teeth snapping, chains rattling, white spittle gathering at the corners of its mouth. It growled, low and irritated at something that had nothing to do with the renegades standing before it, “He is lost. Pay him no mind. This is what he has asked for and thusly received, he does not deserve your mercy.”

Icarus tasted bile in his throat, his skin burned, his hand flexed and he raised it as if he would grab the pommel of his sword. Athelde—or a part of him anyway—still lingered in the vessel Mariusz occupied begging to die. This business sickened him, the whole existence of this chamber deep below the Church nothing more than an abscess leeching into the stone and infecting the lifeblood of this place. Maren let out a rattling breath and kept her hand in her salt pouch to stop herself from doing whatever it was her disdain told her to do. 

“Daedalus is a captive, of sorts,” it continued, distracting them both. “Held in the twisting gaol that sits at the crossroads of fae, demon, and mortal. There is strength in threes, Father.”

“Why?” Icarus whispered, “What is he doing? Why is he doing any of this? Why is he there?”

It smirked and opened its mouth to reply. An explosion of wood and metal cut it off, the sound slammed into Icarus and sent him stumbling forward. Maren whirled on the tide of priests pouring into the broken doorway and threw a handful of salt in their direction. It exploded and sparked, sending a wall of ivory light up with it. They let out a collective shout and the closest of them leapt backwards, out of range. Icarus straightened and roared in frustration.

Mariusz’s shoulders shook with graveled laughter, “Your time is up, Father Ulrich.”

“Tell me why!” He whirled and shouted over the din. A spear of gold light pierced Maren’s wall like a thunderclap. Iron halberds stripped and stabbed and parted, forcing the barrier apart. 

She scattered a second handful and tore a page of her Doctrine, sending it along the floor with it. At a whisper and a sign of her hand, the wall bowed outward and burst into a hail of light. One priest shoved his hand into the molten wax of a thick pillar candle atop a brazier by the doorway and threw a handful of the rapidly solidifying liquid in her direction. It spattered along the stones then seethed and twisted into a scythe that cut towards the fresh barrier she wove together.

Icarus looked from Mariusz to Maren to the company of priests and cursed. He had nothing to offer unless he paid the blood price and drew his sword, he had to let Maren take this on. There was no other choice. He turned back to the fray and forced himself to tune out the sounds of holy battle raging around him. 

“What greater role is there for a priest to play than soldier, martyr, saint?” Marius spasmed, face falling, that human voice again coming anguished and hollow, “Please, I am begging you don’t leave me like this, don’t let them-”

Another shake of its antlered head, another snapping snarl of crumbling teeth, and the man who was Athelde was gone again. Maren’s hands wove and worked as she painted her sigil and cast it outward, snaring the guard who had forced his way through. There was nothing more he could gain from this creature now. Icarus wanted to draw his sword and part heads from bodies. 

She barked over her shoulder, “We have to go! There’s no more time!”

One of the priests gathered ivory light in his palm. He wrapped it around his knuckles and struck, punching down into the stone like a hammer. Ground splintered and burst towards Maren. The force sent her sprawling, she yelled in outrage and hit the floor. Her shotgun skittered just out of reach, her salt spilling in a heap beside her. 

Icarus slashed his forearm with his small knife and unsheathed his sword, blue sigilwork flaring blue-hot to mirror his anger. He roared, torn in three between Maren, the priests, Mariusz. He stared at the Inquisitor for a moment longer, questions half answered. It would have to be enough. He couldn’t wait. Another thunderclap and the rock split apart so close to him Icarus tumbled forward into the salt, sending his sword clattering. His foot slippe and his toe struck the line. 

The circle broke. Mariusz lunged. 

A calloused, clammy hand wrapped around his wrist—jaws parted, teeth billowing with the sickly sweet stench of death, dripping which what he prayed was saliva. Cold surged through his skin and shot to his elbow, Icarus cried out in alarm. His vision broke into spots. He yanked himself back, wresting and prying himself from its grip. Had the human body been better maintained, he would never have broken free. He stumbled backwards and fell, landing hard. Chains sang along the stone and ended in a clang, stretched to their limit, squealing against the burst of inhuman strength in the demon’s pull. 

“Icarus!” Maren shouted. 

He turned. She rolled onto her stomach and closed a hand on her shotgun. She shoved hard, sending it across the uneven floor in his direction. He rolled to his feet, wedged his toe under the stock, and kicked, launching it into the air. He caught it, cocked it, aimed, and pulled in less than a breath. 

The explosion was deafening. It sent him right back onto his ass, head cracking off a pillar and making his vision swim. He had the distant feeling of blood tricking down the back of his neck. Mariusz—or what had been Mariusz—had been thrown backwards by the blast, arms and legs twisted like the dessicated husk of a long-dead spider. Someone shouted behind him. Maren yelled incoherently.

Icarus tried to turn, but everything went black. 

**

Pain. That was the first thing Icarus felt. The throbbing agony of his head, the pins and needles feeling in his arm, and a bone deep desire to tumble right back into the abyss of unconsciousness. A kick to his ribs startled him into the world of the living with a yelp. 

“Wake up!” A familiar voice hissed. “You calamitous son of a bitch, wake the fuck up!”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before willing them to open. He’d been dragged from the chamber, apparently, which explained the soreness in his shoulders. It took a moment for everything to come into focus. They’d been hauled into the main lower room beneath the Church, full of splitting hallways venturing to Pale God knew where. 

Maren was crumpled in a heap against one of the pillars—breathing, thank God. She lifted her head and revealed the generous black eye she’d taken, it did nothing to dampen her obvious relief. He gave her a crooked, pained smile and looked up to see who his attacker was. 

Red cassock belted in black silk, everything trimmed and stitched in elaborate gold patterns that probably meant something to someone somewhere in the Church. His bald head crowned in a red biretta, severe hawkish face glaring down a beaky nose at the heaped priest on the floor. 

Icarus’s smile widened, “Cardinal O’Donnell. Lovely to see you again. Looking as mummified as ever.”

“Shut up, Icarus,” O’Donnell sneered. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The position you’ve put me in?”

Icarus sat up slowly and wiped a hand across his mouth, smearing it with blood. He shook his head and ignored the echo of his own pulse in his temples, “What I’ve done? What about what you’ve done? Keeping a demon on purpose? Do you have any idea how insane-”

“I said shut up!” The kick came from one of the guarding warrior priests and knocked the wind straight out of him. He clutched his ribs and doubled over with a coughing wheeze, “Athelde chose that. He was groomed and trained and offered himself over. We needed the Inquisitor, you miserable idiot. Do you think there’s another way to know what the agents of the Stygian Lord are up to? Do you think there’s some secret method by which we know the Shadow’s plans? How the fuck do you think we keep them at bay?!”

A trickle of relief caught him by surprise, the angry confirmation his shot had done its job. Icarus couldn’t have stopped the laugh if he wanted. It started small, then built until it crescendoed into madness. Each heaving cackle renewed the stabbing sensation in his lungs, but he didn’t care, “Where’s my father, Don?”

The Cardinal’s face twisted in rage, “Dead. Stop chasing this, Ulrich. You will not enjoy it when it’s unraveled. Let Daedalus stay dead and go back to your work.”

The derision made Icarus laugh even harder, he couldn’t reply for a few gasping breaths and had no idea if it was the cracked rib or the outrage. He blotted at tears that formed in his eyes, stomach aching, every inch of him pulsating in response, “Dead. Right. You’ve got no idea where he is, do you?”

There was a long, agonizing silence as a shadow passed over O’Donnell’s face. His expression was a serpent’s venom when he looked at Maren, outright disgust when he turned back to Icarus. He plucked at nothing as if tidying his ornate, elaborate sleeves before he gestured to the warrior priests flanking Icarus. 

“You are hereby excommunicated from this Church. I will send word to the Pope and notices to all Church outfits across Europe,” his deep brown eyes were ablaze. “You are stripped of your access and will no longer be permitted to partake in any exorcisms without the Church’s sanction. From this day forward, you are no longer a priest recognized by the Church. Any calderism you perform will be considered illegal magicks punishable by prison or death. At the discretion, of course, of the Cardinal.”

Icarus stared in naked hatred up at this man who had continued to refuse him an audience, refuse him answers for years, and was now stripping him of the last meagre slip of connection he had to his own past. He expected to care more, to be angrier about it, but the only anger he had was for how full of utter bullshit O’Donnell was. 

“Up,” the guard jammed the butt of his halberd into Icarus’s aching ribs and he hissed at the wave of fire that came with it. 

Maren eased to her feet and swayed, catching herself before she could fall. The Cardinal whirled in a flurry of red silk, not keen to let her think he had forgotten her. The vitriol he had for Icarus cooled, calcifying into pity, “And you, Father Fowler. You, I understand less than him. You have such promise, such talent. You were a gifted Sister and you are a powerful exorcist, you’re smart and competent, but here you are running around with a vagrant who has no respect for our faith.”

She stayed blank and offered him nothing in return. When it was clear she had no intention of responding, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I will offer this once to you, Maren, and once only,” he took a deep breath. “Renounce this reckless heretic, come back to us and all will be forgiven. Let us wash your slate clean and start over again, put you back in the good grace of the Pale Father.”

She stared at him for a moment longer before tilting her head and letting all of it show. Her disdain, her anger, her resentment—all of it flooded her usually passive face and broke apart the energy of the room like a battering ram. 

When she spoke, there was no ounce of regret, “Who are you to serve as a mouthpiece of the Pale God when you kept a man chained and shackled and destroyed by the very creatures you claim to be at war with?” He opened his mouth to speak, but her sharpness cut him off, “Do you even know why I left in the first place? Why I followed Icarus out of those doors?”

O’Donnell frowned and tucked his hands into his sleeves, “I am aware, Maren, of what happened. And I-”

“If you offer me platitudes, I will cut them from your throat,” she issued the threat with such alarming flatness even the guards shifted uneasily. “There’s no need to excommunicate me, Cardinal. I renounce my faith in the Church freely. The Pale God knows what you do and now, so do I.”

She limped her way towards Icarus and thrust out her hand. He stared up at her, questioning, but was met with only her steel resolve. He let her haul him to his feet as best either of them could in their sorry state. Before she could release him, Icarus pulled her into a fierce hug that she hardly fought. They moved to leave the chamber and exit the Church for the last time.

“Maren,” Cardinal O’Donnell said. They paused and turned to look back. He sighed and raised his face to her, the amber light making him look so much more tired and worn than he had been a moment ago, “You will not like what you find. Your path is not so separate from his, you know.”

She shrugged her indifference, “My path has been tangled in his since the moment he believed me when none of you would.”

They began the arduous ascent, Icarus mumbling about how much easier it had been to get in than go out. They passed the storage room, guards at their back, and he jerked his thumb towards it. 

“Exit’s there, boys. Unless we’re being given the luxury of exiting through the front?” He smirked and a guard prodded him onward without so much as a laugh, which Icarus found rather rude, “Ah. Old fashioned walk of shame it is, then.”

They were paraded through the narthex and past the bustle of priests and nuns filing in for the daytime vigils and services, all eager and ready to tend to their sickly flock not knowing it was their own hands dripping the poison. Icarus soured, a bitter taste on his tongue. He met every shocked and fearful gaze that settled on them, wondering every time which of them knew what monstrous things were happening right under their feet. He expected to see Father Reed, but was unsurprised when he did not.

Daylight had broken through the clouds and speared Icarus in the head the moment he stepped outside into the bitter winter morning. Doors shut behind them, but the guards lingered in case either of them were inclined to rush back in and beg for forgiveness. He sighed and rubbed his eyes until the sun was swallowed up again by the ever-present gray clouds threatening them with inclement weather. 

“I don’t know about you,” Maren said, it came out dry and cracked, “but I could use a God damned drink.”

He fired her a wolfish grin, “That, my beloved Maren, is the most wonderful thing you’ve said in ages. I know a place.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he started the descent towards the street carrying himself with a new sense of lightness. “My office.”

She huffed a sound that a lesser man would have mistaken for a laugh, but Icarus knew better than to think that—out loud, anyway. He flexed his hand and rubbed idly at his wrist, the ghost of an icy grip still lingering in his skin. He shook it out and shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring the chill that tingled to his elbow.

The Sunday Prescription

One reading topic, one week of plans, and plenty of books administered weekly for chronic readers.

Symptoms: What Do I Read Next???

Happy Sunday friends! Hope everyone is having a great week, and that you are enjoying your reading in some way, shape, or form. As we head into the later part of the year, I am starting to see everyone's "10 Before the End," or 10 books people want to read by the end of the year, popping up, and it has me thinking about how we all pick the next book or books we want to read!

I think we've all been in this spot before - you finish reading a book, and even if you're a multiple book at a time reader, you have to pick up another one. You stand there, facing your wall of shelves filled with unread books, or your TBR on your app, or your audiobook backlog, and you have no idea where to go next. Maybe there's a few that are grabbing your attention, or maybe nothing is grabbing your attention. So, what do you do, and how do you pick the next one? Well I have a few ideas and suggestions!

• Are you drawn to a few different books, but unsure of which one to read? Grab them all, and sit down and read one or two chapters of each book. This lets you get a sense of the writing and see which one feels most like your current vibe.

• Do you have a bunch of books that you'd be genuinely happy to try out, but there's just so many of them? There are some really fun ways to let fate decide!

  • Assign each book a number 1-6 and roll the dice (or, if you're a D&D fan with a bigger TBR, assign them 1-20 and roll a D20).

  • Make a TBR Jar. Write down each book on a piece of paper, and pick one out of the jar! If you're more into digital solutions, use an online wheel spinner.

  • Ask a friend to pick one for you. If you're on our Discord server, a lot of us would be willing to help! (You could even make a poll)

  • Set them down on the floor if you have a pet, and read whichever one they touch first.

  • Let Libby decide - whatever Libby hold shows up next, that's what you read!

• I've talked to a few people who love a good random draw. Keep your unread books turned backwards on the shelf, spines to the back, and then just grab a random one that looks about the size you want.

• Go purely on vibes. Stand there, look at your shelf, and the first one that gets you feeling its the right one, grab it!

• Just make it easy on yourself if you like structure - read that series all in a row, or make a TBR at the start of each month that you stick to!

Now maybe you're just feeling overwhelmed, or nothing is grabbing your attention. If that's the case, sit and think about what you have going on - is this a bigger issue other than a simple reading slump? If it's just a reading slump, then maybe take a break! Or, pick up an old comfort read (I got back to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings in these cases), and reread that one. Or, switch up formats - grab an audio if you're normally a physical reader, or vice versa. Just something to shake it up.

So I'm interested to hear from you - how do you pick your next read? Have you tried any of the methods above, or what's your favorite way to pick a book?

The Rx: What I'm Reading and Doing

Life is busy, and there is a ton going on! So first, let's talk Book Clubs:

• For our main book club:

  • September's book, Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman, is wrapping up soon. This is a fantastic book club choice with so much to discuss! Our wrap up discussion will be on the Voice Channel on Discord on Sunday, October 4 at 8 PM EST.

  • October's Choice is Japanese Gothic by Kylie Lee Baker. I will be posting the discussion thread on Discord today for anyone who wants to jump in!

• For our Fable book club:

  • September's book, Dust Child by Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai, is wrapping up. A difficult, heavy read at times, but really well done.

  • October's pick is Carmilla by Sheridan le Fanu. This is a sapphic vampire story that predates Dracula by 26 years, and was apparently a major inspiration for Bram Stoker! I hope to see some of you there.

For our Monthly Reading Challenges:

• September's challenge, Read the Opposite, runs through the end of the month. Remember, you either need to be on the StoryGrapgh Challenge, or in our Discord channel for this. If you are in both, just let me know if your names are different so I don't double count you for the gift card drawing!

• October's reading challenge will be to read something seasonal. More to come on this later today!

In terms of reading, I am jumping into one of my last ARCs for awhile, Victorious by VE Schwab. I love the Villians series, and love VE Schwab, so I am so excited for this. On Audio, I'm doing the Burning God by RF Kuang (yes, I'm going to finish a series!). And then I'm also wrapping up my reread of the Silmarillion - it has been so good on a reread, and I'm picking up so much more. After I'm done with Victorious, I'll be jumping into our book club books.

Our paid members in the Dark Traveler's tier get to pick a book for me to read each month, and for October Leah won the wheel spin. She picked out The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon, and I'm so excited to read that one! It had been on my list as one of the six big series I was considering reading in 2027.

Hobby wise, I'll be leaning back into woodworking. With the weather cooling down, I'll be back on my mountain bike a bit more as well, and looking forward to spending time outside. I have a Lord of the Rings puzzle I started recently, and then I also recently picked up the Lord of the Rings Shire Lego set, so will be doing that as well.

And last but not least, be on the lookout for a new membership tier announcement the first week of October! I have a really fun idea, and am excited to share it with you all! Also going to be adding a perk or two to current tiers.

If you are not on our Discord server, you should consider hanging out! I do exclusive giveaways there, and I have some really exciting ones planned for the next few months! I don't really do giveaways on IG/TT because I like to reward you all in our community, so be on the look out for those. We have two giveaways running right now!

Hope you all have a great week of reading and life, and I'll see you next week!

Want More In-Depth Access?

If you enjoy getting into the details with me about reading, then consider upgrading to The Dark Travelers tier! My Dark Travelers get an exclusive Discord role and channels, a weekly deep dive reading update video, early access to YouTube videos, and each month they get to pick a book for me to read. This can be a book they want to read with me, or something they want me to try for them. I then do a member's only review when I'm done. It's super fun and a great tight knit group that I really enjoy talking books with, and I'd love to have you part of it!

Friends,

I know some of you have received your preorders early, and some stores are getting stock in as well!

We made a Barnes and Noble table! 🍄❤️🍄

Hi friends!

I’m delighted to share my interview with Alex Sanchez, author of Rainbow Boys. Rainbow Boys is a “a coming-of-age novel about LGBTQ+ teens finding friendship, first love, and hope.” On September 29, we will celebrate the 25th anniversary of Rainbow Boys with a special edition featuring a “brand-new look, a note from the author, and an introduction by Gender Queer author Maia Kobabe." Rainbow Boys is also an excellent read for Latine Heritage Month! 🌈

Alex Sanchez (he/him/his) spent almost fifteen years working with youth. He is
the author of the teen novels Boyfriends with Girlfriends, Bait, The God Box, Getting It, Rainbow Boys, Rainbow High, and Rainbow Road, as well as the Lambda Award–winning middle grade novel So Hard to Say. Lambda Literary honored Alex with a Jim Duggins, PhD Outstanding Mid-Career Novelists’ Prize. He lives in Thailand and Hollywood, Florida. Visit him at AlexSanchez.com.

Q: In Rainbow Boys, you tell the story of three queer teens—Jason, Kyle, and Nelson. Each boy’s background, support system, insecurities, and phase in their coming-out journey are different. How did you approach developing their vibrant perspectives and using their distinct viewpoints to depict a variety of queer experiences?

A: As Walt Whitman famously said, “I contain multitudes.” Each of us does. To breathe life into a character, I ask myself, what aspect of me is like this character and how is this character like me? That’s how I connected with each of the three boys and gave them life. Jason embodied my teenage struggle to accept myself. Kyle personified my yearning for someone to love. And Nelson is the flip side, longing to be loved by someone. Those are universal aspects of all of us. They provide access points through which any reader—queer or nonqueer—can connect with the characters and live through them.

Q: On September 29, 2026, we’ll be celebrating the 25th anniversary of Rainbow Boys. Would you expand upon your experience writing what would become the revolutionary Rainbow Boys during a period in which most queer stories ended in tragedy, and what has been one of your favorite parts of seeing Rainbow Boys reach its 25th anniversary?

A: Since until the 1970s homosexuality was widely regarded as both criminal and a mental illness, it’s little wonder that the first queer YA stories ended in tragedy. But by the 1990s the world was quickly changing. Real-life queer teens were making news headlines: coming out at schools, going to proms with same-sex dates, getting elected homecoming kings and queens. Their courage inspired me. In 1993 I set out to write a book that combined my own joys and struggles of growing up gay with the courageous breakthroughs of a new generation. I determined that in my story nobody would end tragically. Instead the teens would experience something I hadn’t seen in YA books: queer joy. One of my favorite parts of watching Rainbow Boys reach its 25th anniversary is seeing how it helped to open the door for many more books that include joyful queer teens.

Q: Rainbow Boys is a humorous, vibrant, and uplifting coming-of-age story of queer joy, love, community, belonging, and pulse-fluttering crushes. It also discusses heavier topics such as homophobia, bullying, HIV, eating disorders, and feeling afraid to be queer. How did you approach balancing the lighter and darker themes to craft an overall hopeful story?

A: To be sure, combining the light and dark was a balancing act. Achieving it took heaps of trial and error, many revisions, and a lot of editing and feedback. Writing is both art and craft—art in the sense of intuiting when a story needs either more levity or more depth, and craft in the work of figuring out how to evoke lighter or darker emotions.

Q: You started writing Rainbow Boys in 1993. Since its publication in 2001, it has garnered numerous accolades from magazines and foundations and has sold more than 120,000 copies. What did writing Rainbow Boys teach 1990s Alex, and what has it continued to teach you as it has reached and changed the lives of thousands of readers?

A: Struggling to write Rainbow Boys in the 1990s taught me the importance of reaching out and getting support. Without a support system I couldn’t have completed the manuscript, found an agent, and gone on to write other books. What Rainbow Boys has continued to teach me is that in addition to getting support, much of my success has been due to grit, grace, hard work, humility, luck, other people, accepting the multitudinous factors that are out of my control, and constantly reminding myself that the only thing I have some slight control over is sitting myself down and writing.

Q: Rainbow Boys has been challenged and banned numerous times since its publication, with the American Library Association including it on its “Top 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books: 2000–2009” list. What advice would you give to aspiring queer authors, especially when facing book banning and queerphobia?

A: We can’t stop the haters, but we can challenge them by writing the stories they don’t want us to write. When I wrote Rainbow Boys, I doubted it would ever be published. I wrote the manuscript for the joy and challenge of it. I wrote it because of a fierce passion, because I had to do it, for me. In the same way, if you have a story you need to get onto the page, DO IT. Do it because you have to, for you. Build a support system. Focus on the journey. Enjoy the process. Let go of the outcome. And maybe, if you’re outrageously lucky, you’ll write a book that will be celebrated in 25 years.

Thank you so much to Alex for joining me in discussing Rainbow Boys and to the Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Team for sharing Rainbow Boys with me! 💕

There is a difference between a book containing a sapphic character and a book a sapphic romance.

The first describes representation. A woman or nonbinary character experiences attraction to women or nonbinary people. The second asks where the story places its emotional weight. Whose desire shapes the narrative? Which relationships receive time, tenderness, conflict, and growth? Whose interior life matters?

A character might identify as lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, or queer. Their presence matters. Representation matters. Yet identity alone does not tell us what the book centers.

What makes a book feel sapphic to you? Is the feeling rooted in romance, desire, community, identity, perspective, or some combination of all five?

Sapphic is an Umbrella, Not a Checklist

First let’s get this out of the way, sapphic does NOT mean lesbian. The umbrella includes lesbians, bisexual and pansexual women, queer women, and some nonbinary people whose identities connect with the term. Protecting the meaning of sapphic should never require excluding bisexual, trans, or nonbinary people.

At the same time, an inclusive umbrella still needs a center.

A bisexual woman remains sapphic when she dates a man. Her identity does not change according to her partner. A romantic relationship between her and a man is still not a sapphic relationship. Both statements can be true at the same time.

This distinction helps us talk about books with greater accuracy. A story about a bisexual woman choosing between a woman and a man might explore sapphic desire. A polyamorous romance involving women and a man might contain a sapphic relationship within its larger romantic structure. Those elements do not automatically make “sapphic romance” a complete description of the book.

What information helps you decide whether a book meets your expectations? Do you want the description to name a male love interest, a mixed-gender relationship, or a male endgame before you begin reading?

When I ask whether a book feels sapphic, I am less interested in counting characters and more interested in following the story’s attention.

Which relationship receives the slow glances, the tension, the vulnerability, and the emotional payoff? Which character gets to be fully known? Whose desire changes the direction of the story? Who becomes the destination rather than a temporary stop along the way?

A sapphic romance should place a sapphic relationship at the center of its romantic arc. A sapphic fantasy or horror novel does not need a central romance, but sapphic identity, desire, relationships, or community should hold meaningful narrative importance. A character mentioning an ex-girlfriend once does not create the same reading experience as a story shaped by sapphic life.

This does not require every sapphic character to receive a happy ending. Sapphic stories deserve tragedy, horror, rage, messiness, obsession, ambition, and moral failure. We should have access to the full range of human storytelling. The concern begins when sapphic desire functions as decoration, bait, or temporary conflict while heterosexuality receives the emotional resolution.

Think about the last book you described as sapphic. What part of the reading experience led you to use the word?

The Sapphic Gaze Matters

A book often feels sapphic through perspective. The story notices women and nonbinary people as subjects of desire rather than objects placed on display.

The difference often appears in small details. A character notices another person’s hands, laugh, confidence, softness, strength, or way of taking up space. Desire grows through attention and recognition. Attraction belongs to the character experiencing the feeling rather than an imagined male audience watching from outside the scene.

Sexual content alone does not create a sapphic gaze. A closed-door romance might feel deeply sapphic because the story understands longing, fear, recognition, and intimacy. An explicit scene might feel disconnected from sapphic experience when written through heterosexual assumptions about bodies, roles, or pleasure.

Which details make attraction feel believable to you? What helps a scene feel intimate rather than performative?

Community Matters Too

Sapphic life involves more than romantic partnership. Friendship, chosen family, intergenerational connection, community conflict, and shared cultural knowledge often shape the experience.

Some books feel sapphic because the characters exist inside a queer world. They know other queer people. They have language for themselves. They argue about identity and politics. They build friendships, attend community events, care for each other, and negotiate belonging. Other stories focus on isolation, closeting, or being the only queer person in the room. Those stories still belong, though isolation should not remain the only version of sapphic life publishers value.

Community also gives characters room to be complicated. One person does not need to represent every lesbian, bisexual woman, trans woman, or nonbinary person. A larger queer cast allows disagreement, humor, desire, jealousy, tenderness, and failure without turning one character into a symbol for an entire group.

Do you prefer sapphic books with a strong queer community around the main character? How does the presence or absence of community change your reading experience?

Who Gets Desired Matters

Questions about sapphic representation must also include race, disability, body size, gender presentation, class, and trans identity.

Publishing often treats white, thin, nondisabled, conventionally feminine queer women as the easiest version of sapphic identity to market. Their stories receive greater permission to feel universal. Black sapphic characters, especially dark-skinned, fat, disabled, trans, working-class, or masculine-presenting Black characters, face a different standard. Their books are more likely to be framed as narrow, educational, or intended for a limited audience.

A story does not become meaningfully inclusive through the presence of a marginalized character alone. We still need to ask whether the character receives interiority, desire, tenderness, agency, and a future.

Who gets to be wanted without needing to become more palatable first? Who receives softness without losing complexity? Who gets to be messy and still worthy of love?

Reader Trust Matters

Genre labels create expectations. A reader choosing a sapphic romance expects the central romantic relationship to be sapphic. A reader choosing an FFM romance expects a man to participate in the central relationship. A reader choosing a bisexual love triangle should receive clear information about the romantic possibilities and, when appropriate, the ending structure.

Clear labeling does not police anyone’s identity. Clear labeling respects readers and gives each story language suited to its actual center. It allows the reader to consent to what they are reading.

Authors and publishers sometimes worry about spoilers, but a romantic structure is not the same as a plot twist. Readers often choose romance based on the relationship promised by the category. Concealing a male partner or male endgame from marketing aimed at sapphic readers does not create a clever surprise. Concealment breaks trust.

What does honest marketing look like to you? Which details belong in a book description, content note, or author post before release?

There is No Single Sapphic Story

Sapphic books do not need one approved tone, genre, relationship model, or ending. We need cozy romances and devastating horror. We need monogamous couples, polyamorous relationships, asexual partnerships, messy breakups, lifelong friendships, erotic joy, and characters with no interest in romance. We need women saving kingdoms, becoming villains, solving murders, raising children, building communities, and making terrible decisions with their whole chests.

The goal is not sameness. The goal is meaningful centrality.

A book feels sapphic when sapphic life shapes the story rather than appearing as a decorative detail. Sapphic desire receives room to exist on its own terms. Sapphic characters hold narrative power. Their relationships matter. Their choices move the plot. Their inner lives receive attention. The story understands them as full people rather than proof of diversity.

So I want to hear from you.

What makes a book feel sapphic to you?

Does the central relationship matter most, or does perspective matter more?

Have you read a book with a sapphic character that still felt centered around men or heterosexuality?

Which book gave you the strongest feeling of being inside a fully realized sapphic world?

What kinds of sapphic stories are you still waiting to read?

Hey, y'all! Wanted to pop in and give you a list of upcoming releases we're excited for! We are so close to being able to list books on our site--we're getting the LLC and everything this upcoming week!

Upcoming releases to watch for!

• It Looks Like You in the Dark by Mathilda Zeller (SO GOOD)

• What Feeds Below by Tatiana Schlote-Bonne (PLEASE OMG)

• Lethal Kiss by Taylor Grothe (SERIOUSLY)

• Victorious by VE Schwab (THAT ENDING!)

• Something Followed Us Home ed by Cynthia Pelayo (BROOOO)

Please consider ordering your copy from us!

Till next time!

-Ryn

Hi Friends,

If you haven’t seen it yet, What Feeds Below is an October Aardvark pick…. And it’s a special edition!

(Which was a surprise to all of us! A very nice one!)

Aardvark said they never received so many requests to carry a title before and that really speaks to the power of this community! I think we are really able to offer authors something that traditional publishing just cannot.

Thank you to everyone who has preordered! Read and reviewed and has hyped this book up! This wouldn’t have happened without you! You all are the best!!!

(I’m pretty stoked on Aardvark and think we have similar tastes, so hopefully I get to make these kinds of announcements more!)

Next stop, bestseller list? 🤞

Your next batch of bookish content inspiration has arrived! All 53 October Canva Mockups are officially available! 🎨📖

Whether you’re creating Bookstagram posts, book reviews, TBRs, reading wrap-ups, book club content, new release features, or cozy fall reading graphics, these ready-to-use Canva Mockups are here to make content creation easier!

📥 READY TO CREATE?

Tap here to download October's Mockups and start planning your October bookish content! 🍁☕📚

❗️Don't forget to tag us in your posts @thepageladies so we can come and show your posts some love!

✨ AND DON’T FORGET YOU CAN REQUEST A CUSTOM MOCKUP!

Have a specific book, theme, design idea, or bookish graphic you’d love to have? The First Editions can submit custom mockup requests so we can create something tailored to your content needs. 👀🎨

You’re not just getting templates, you're getting a growing library of bookish content tools made for our community. 💙

Now tell us: What kind of custom bookish mockup should we create next? 📚✨

#Bookish Readers #CanvaMockups #BookstagramTemplates #BookishTemplates #BookishContent

Spooky season is getting a bookish makeover! Our October Bookish Canva Mockups are officially available and ready to help you create gorgeous content all month long. 📖🖤

Whether you’re creating Bookstagram posts, book reviews, TBRs, reading wrap-ups, book club content, new release features, or cozy fall reading graphics, these Canva mockups make creating your bookish content easier and more fun. 🍁☕📚

✨ FREE MEMBERS:
Tap here to download the October mockups available to you and start creating!

❗️Don't forget to tag us in your posts @thepageladies so we can come and show your posts some love!

📚 WANT EVEN MORE? COME JOIN THE FIRST EDITIONS!

The First Editions gives you access to all 53 October Mockups PLUS all of our mockups from previous months giving you access to HUNDREDS of bookish Canva Mockups to use throughout the year! 🎨📚

And that’s not all… 👀

🎨 CUSTOM MOCKUP REQUESTS: The First Editions can also request their own custom mockup! Have a specific book, theme, design, or content idea you’d love to see? Send us your request and we’ll create something just for you!

👉 Tap the link to download your October Mockups or join The First Editions and unlock hundreds of bookish Canva Mockups + custom mockup requests!

🍂 What bookish mockup would you love to see us create next?

#CanvaMockups #BookstagramTemplates #BookishTemplates #Bookstagram #BookishContent #Bookish #Readers

My husband was kind enough to make us a little website to store our ratings, recommendations, and more!

The first week of October, I'll share the results :)

No rush if you're still reading - this will remain up for you to add to until the first week of October and the results will stay there for us to check any time!

Share your thoughts here: https://4fb.club/survey/2026-09-book-survey

October is right around the corner, and The Page Ladies are getting ready to celebrate in a BIG way! 🎃📚

Next month marks 13 YEARS of The Page Ladies Book Club AND we’re celebrating two birthdays! 🎂🥳

Thirteen years of reading together, swooning over fictional characters, debating plot twists, discovering new favorites, and filling our bookshelves is definitely worth celebrating. And because our community is what makes The Page Ladies so special, we’re turning October into one giant thank-you celebration! 💛

Get ready for a month filled with non-stop celebrations, surprise wishlist gifting, TWO massive giveaway events, and plenty of bookish fun! 🎁📖✨

👀 HERE’S A SNEAK PEEK AT WHAT’S COMING…

🏆 1. The Birthday & Anniversary Bash with 6 Winners Total!

We’re kicking off the celebrations with a HUGE giveaway featuring 6 winners across 3 prize tiers!

Think:

📚 Multi-book wishlist bundles
☕ Cozy reading goodies
🎁 Gift cards to your favorite bookshops
🛍️ Wishlist gifting opportunities
✨ Bonus entry perks
💙 Special Bindery member rewards

We’re packing these prizes with plenty of bookish goodness because 13 years deserves a BIG celebration!

⚡ 2. The TBR Polish Gift Card Blitz

Have a few books sitting at the very top of your fall TBR?

We’ve got you covered! 📖🍂

This fast-paced giveaway will feature 6 digital book gift cards worth up to $30 each, giving you the perfect excuse to treat yourself to those books you’ve been eyeing and finally polish up that TBR pile. 🛍️📚

👇 WHAT CAN YOU DO RIGHT NOW?

There’s nothing complicated to do just get yourself ready for the fun!

1️⃣ Save this post!
Our first giveaway goes live October 1st, so save this page so you don’t miss a single celebration. 📌

2️⃣ Tag your bookish bestie!
Know someone who loves giveaways, books, and spooky-season reading? Tag them below and bring them along for the celebration! 👯‍♀️🎃

3️⃣ Update your Amazon Wishlist!
Make sure your wishlist is current and linked in your bio so you’re ready when wishlist gifting opportunities pop up! 🛍️✨

🎃 GET READY…

October is going to be one for the books! 📚🥂

Thirteen years of The Page Ladies is something we’re incredibly grateful for, and we can’t wait to celebrate this milestone with the readers, book lovers, and bookish besties who have helped make this community what it is.

So grab your favorite fall drink, make some room on that wishlist, and get ready…

The biggest Page Ladies celebration of the year starts October 1st! 🎉📚💛

Which bookish bestie are you bringing along for the October festivities? 👀👇

#books #bookish #birthday #bookgiveaway #bookclub #readers #bookishlife

Hello friends!

Welcome to Inkmonger!! I'm so glad you're here :)

I'm excited to get this community up and running, and get to know you all! If you haven't joined the Discord yet, please do-- that's going to be where the majority of the conversation will be. We'd love to have you!

To kick things off, let me ask–

This Friday, we're diving into some horror novels that center on witches. I'm hoping to put a few on your radar that you may not have heard of!

Crone by Keith Rosson

Thirteen years ago Eli Lamp's daughter went missing. Now, after a drug lord's son turns up dead, he must use his ex-detective skills to hunt down the killer. One who may be supernatural...

The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson

In the land of Bethel, the Prophet's word is law. They say that witches lurk in the Darkwood. When Immanuelle stumbles into the Darkwood one day, she learns secrets that may dismantle everything she's ever known.

Slewfoot by Brom

Could this even be a witchy list without Slewfoot? A new widow fights to keep her late husband's farm and her independence in a puritanical New England town. A mysterious creature from the dark wood takes an interest in Abitha.

Muneca by Cynthia Gomez

A woman has been left paralyzed by a mysterious illness, but Nati knows a thing or two about witchcraft, and she is sure the illness is a result of dark magic. Nati plans to break the spell and earn a handsome reward as well.

The Last Witch by C.J Cooke

An outspoken woman is accused of witchcraft and put on trial with several other women in town. Helena must find the courage to risk her life and other to stand up to a man destined to make her a monster.

Glass Girls by Danie Shokoohi

In a family of witches, the girls are given gifts and boys are destined to die. Alice thought she escaped this life and her abusive mother, but when her estranged sister shows up on her doorstep, her new life comes screeching to a halt.

Conjuring The Witch by Jessica Leonard

There are witches in the woods---or so the reverend of Steve and Nicole's church says. But Nicole takes a walk in the woods, she comes back changed.

The Good House by Tananarive Due

A woman's voodoo-practicing grandmother may have unlocked an ancient evil that is targeting her family.

The Wax Child by Olga Ravn

Narrated by a wax doll, The Wax Child follows a woman who---along with several other women---are accused of witchcraft.

The Bewitching by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

A tale of witches and monsters told over the story of three generations.