I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself

What if The Sneetches was queer adult speculative fiction?

I love a bleary-eyed quiet dystopia. In this one, Kris is recovering from the loss of her wife Beau during childbirth. On top of navigating single motherhood, her United States has implemented drastic changes to the criminal justice system.

Those who have committed infractions (or, at least, are accused of doing so) have an extra shadow attached to them. Further wrongdoing results in a third, fourth, and fifth (etc.) shadow. Shadows are impossible to detach or hide. “Shadesters” have restricted access to healthcare, groceries, and any sort of legal recourse. Discrimination and stigma abound.

Kris has an extra shadow, and policy dictates that her child receive an extra shadow at birth. So now she must raise a child set up to fail, as a broken person in a broken world. She struggles to distance her child from the shame she cannot shake, instilling resolve and pride to offset how everyone else sees and treats them.

This is a story about persistence, the slow journey of grief, and how parenthood can make you feel trapped and inadequate, while also being the primary (if not sole) reason to keep going. I'd recommend this for fans of The Double,[b:We Are Okay|28243032|We Are Okay|Nina LaCour|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1471899036l/28243032.SY75.jpg|48277368],[b:My Year of Rest and Relaxation|44279110|My Year of Rest and Relaxation|Ottessa Moshfegh|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1597676656l/44279110.SY75.jpg|55508660], and, funnily enough, [b:We Cast a Shadow|40163362|We Cast a Shadow|Maurice Carlos Ruffin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1533657073l/40163362.SY75.jpg|62303738].