Hello. Bonjour. Good Day.
It’s the last #FridayReads of September. October approaches. Cooler evenings. Cozy blankets. Warm drinks as we nestle for our reading. Next month also ushers thriller after thriller and maybe, some horror, from my bookshelves. At the moment, I’m finishing two thrillers, The Lies We Told by Camilla Way and Lying in Wait by Liz Nugent, and they end the month right – creepy and skin-rattling as thrillers should.
However, since I’m practically finished with them, I’m left with room for a bit of humor. Down below is my final #FridayReads selection.
In the style of New York Times bestsellers You Can’t Touch My Hair, Bad Feminist, and I’m Judging You, a timely collection of alternately hysterical and soul‑searching essays about what it is like to grow up as a creative, sensitive black man in a world that constantly tries to deride and diminish your humanity.
It hasn’t been easy being Michael Arceneaux.
Equality for LGBT people has come a long way and all, but voices of persons of color within the community are still often silenced, and being black in America is…well, have you watched the news?
With the characteristic wit and candor that have made him one of today’s boldest writers on social issues, I Can’t Date Jesus is Michael Arceneaux’s impassioned, forthright, and refreshing look at minority life in today’s America. Leaving no bigoted or ignorant stone unturned, he describes his journey in learning to embrace his identity when the world told him to do the opposite.
He eloquently writes about coming out to his mother; growing up in Houston, Texas; that time his father asked if he was “funny” while shaking his hand; his obstacles in embracing intimacy; and the persistent challenges of young people who feel marginalized and denied the chance to pursue their dreams.
Perfect for fans of David Sedaris and Phoebe Robinson, I Can’t Date Jesus tells us—without apologies—what it’s like to be outspoken and brave in a divisive world.
I’m looking for a wee bit of laughter and perspective after reading thrillers and drama lately. They can bog my emotional state, if I do not take breathers every now and then.
While, I do not read memoirs often. They intrigue me. So, when I do, I seek those lives promising hours of introspection and gut-punching knowledge. I do not wish to read or hear the words of someone living a rather dull life, or a life I’ve heard about time and time again. Yet, Mr. Arceneaux’s premise offers a glance of a good time. I’m digging in.
What are you reading this weekend? Feel free to share below.