Recommending Sapphic Books Based On Lyrics Stuck in My Head

Why this lyric is lodged in my brain: A common theme of lyrics I latch onto is existentialism or nihilism, especially in pop music. See also, Baby Queen, “We Can Be Anything.” I like this somewhat optimistic take on there not being a grand plan: we’re all lost and figuring ourselves out, and we’re never going to be done with that task.

Why I picked this book: Cash Delgado is absolutely oblivious to her queerness, even when she begins having sex dreams about her female best friend every single night. One thing that holds her back from realizing she’s a lesbian is that she’s sure she would have noticed that a lot sooner if it was true, especially because she’s been surrounded by queer people since she was a teen. This lyric is a good reminder that we never have ourselves completely figured out, and we’ll be discovering new things about ourselves our entire lives.

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.