Sterling Karat Gold

Abandoned, p.78. I used to like a healthy dose of surrealism. Here, I tried and tried, but nope. Maybe I've grown too old. Maybe I'm not smart enough or hip enough for this book. Doesn't matter. I found it monotonous: angry stream of consciousness, uninteresting first-person protagonist, and the story caroms disjointedly – kind of like Meow Wolf, where it's just slapped together randomly and feels fun for a while. Only a while. Oh, plus lots of sports and fashion talk with promise of more to come. No thanks.

It was wonderful to read a novel that centered trans poc characters, and the sharp energy and inventive, vibrant world created by Waidner was, for the most part, a thrill to read. However, for me, the story sat in an uncanny valley between convention and experimentation. The slippery dream logic often strayed towards deus ex machina, which, along with the chaotic pacing, gave the feeling that the narrative was being supplied off the cuff—like the entirety of the novel comprised Cataclysmic Tabloid #43.