I have a new favorite genre of queer lit: books that feel like conversations between the queer past, present, and future. This is one of the best books like that I’ve ever read. It’s an intergenerational queer family saga about a group of very messy people — they make mistakes, the hurt each other, they muddle through, they’re flawed and hurt and secretive and loyal. It moves among POVs and takes places across decades. It’s about parenthood, family secrets, identity, marriage, and so much more.

In this beautiful blend of fiction, oral history, and theory, Belcourt seems to reinvent the novel even as his protagonist ponders if novels are worth writing. It’s about a queer Cree PhD student who abandons his dissertation, returns home to northern Alberta, and tries to write a novel. It’s not possible to summarize a book like this, and it’s hard to even convey just how unique and beautiful it is. It’s playful and sharp, a blend of gorgeously written intimate moments and academic theorizing. Belcourt’s sentences read like poems, and his unnamed narrator feels as real and whole and human as any protagonist I’ve ever encountered on the page.

Emezi’s first foray into romance is a bighearted story about grief, art, healing, and queer friendship. Feyi is just starting to date again, five years after losing her husband in a car accident, and she’s not sure she’s ready. But it turns out she is ready — when she meets the right person, a man working through his own grief, who understands how hard it can be to open up again after loss. This book is sexy, funny, heartfelt, and overflowing with mouthwatering descriptions of meals.