Recommending Sapphic Books Based On Lyrics Stuck in My Head

Why this lyric is lodged in my brain: For someone raised in a queer accepting agnostic home, I sure latch onto stories about queer religious trauma. Maybe it’s a symptom of growing up queer in a Christian-by-default society. In any case, I love this response to the threat of eternal damnation for being queer: probably not, and not worth throwing away the delights of queerness. I know it’s an odd choice to pick a Chappell Roan lyric that isn’t from “Good Luck, Babe!” which is going viral, but she has so many great songs.

Why I picked this book: I meant to pick a story about queer religious trauma — there’s definitely enough to choose from — but for some reason, this is the first book that came to mind while ruminating on this lyric. Last year, I wrote a post for the Deep Dive newsletter called “Writing Ourselves Out: Queer Characters Who Rewrite Their Destinies,” and it was about stories where queer characters seem to be caught in an inevitable tragic situation and then find some trap door out. Light From Uncommon Stars featured heavily, which is hard to explain without spoilers, but I really appreciate how it grapples with the darkest parts of being alive — including racism, sexism, and transphobia — and then avoids what seems like the characters’ inevitable unhappy ending.

I do feel strange not picking a book about homophobia and religion for this, so I’ll mention that The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School by Sonora Reyes is high on my TBR and looks like it would be a perfect fit for this.

Why this lyric is lodged in my brain: I discovered this in an incredibly nerdy way: I was watching an interview with Liam O’Brien about his D&D character Caleb Widogast, and he mentioned this song as matching the character. It’s such a good pairing with that character and his arc. Caleb has tried to isolate himself to keep from being hurt, and throughout the Mighty Nein Critical Role campaign, he slowly opens up to other people again. I am someone who is open and vulnerable to a fault with other people, so this line is such a great encapsulation of how it can sometimes feel like total isolation would be a relief, freed from the expectations and complications of other people — but it’s a fantasy that can never actually be achieved, and it shouldn’t be.

Why I picked this book: This is probably the book that made me feel the most uncomfortably “seen” as I read it. The main character is writing letters to her ex-girlfriend, desperately pining for her even as she wonders if her ex ever actually liked her. I had to keep closing the book and taking breaks because it felt like seeing the part of myself I most try to cover up — the most embarrassing, needy element of my personality. I think Valerie would also relate to this lyric of how not loving anyone sometimes seems like it would be a relief. It looks like this has gone out of print, but the ebook was available recently, so hopefully, it will reappear again soon.

Why this lyric is lodged in my brain: On reflection, this is very similar to the first lyric I included in this post. It’s a reminder that nothing is guaranteed, and we may not be able to achieve our dreams or improve ourselves in the ways we want to. Maybe it’s the catchy beat, but I see an unstated “And that’s okay” at the end of this. Being alive is messy. We need to be able to adapt and accept ourselves even when we wanted something more.

Why I picked this book: Aria starts this book with her plans upended. Topless photos of her were posted online without her consent, and now she’s spending the summer after graduation with her grandmother, away from everyone she knows. There, she falls for Steph, who’s already in a relationship. This is a story about things not going to plan: this isn’t the summer she wanted, she didn’t think she was queer, and Steph isn’t the picture-perfect first love. It’s a book about not getting what you want — and that being okay, really.

Why this lyric is lodged in my brain: I find the lyrics to this song fairly impenetrable, so I’m fully inventing my own meaning. It goes on to say, “I’m sure that we could find something for you to do on stage. / Maybe shake a tambourine, or when I sing, you sing harmonies.” This reminds me of the friends and partners I’ve had who were struggling, and I so wanted to be able to “save,” but there’s a point where you can’t control another person, especially when it requires sacrificing parts of themselves. They don’t want to be shaking a tambourine on stage at your show; they want to have their own life.

Why I picked this book: I actually couldn’t find a perfect match for this dynamic — if anyone has recommendations, I’d love to hear them! Instead, I thought about this book, where Audre and Mabel support each other through really difficult parts of their lives. Audre has been shipped away from her home in Trinidad after she was caught with her girlfriend, and now she’s staying with a father she doesn’t know in Minneapolis. Mabel has been getting sicker without explanation. I won’t spoil the ending, but I’ll say that despite them loving and supporting each other, one can’t stay.