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Crosshairs
The author of the acclaimed novel Scarborough weaves an unforgettable and timely dystopian account of a near-future when a queer Black performer and his allies join forces against an oppressive regime that is rounding up those deemed “Other” in concentration camps.
In a terrifyingly familiar near-future, with massive floods that lead to rampant homelessness and devastation, a government-sanctioned regime called the Boots seizes the opportunity to force communities of colour, the disabled and the LGBTQ2S into labour camps in the city of Toronto.
In the shadows, a new hero emerges. After his livelihood and the love of his life are taken away, Kay joins the resistance alongside Bahadur, a transmasculine refugee, and Firuzeh, a headstrong social worker. Guiding them in the use of weapons and close-quarters combat is Beck, a rogue army officer who helps them plan an uprising at a major internationally televised event.
With her signature prose, described by Booklist as “raw yet beautiful, disturbing yet hopeful,” Catherine Hernandez creates a vision of the future that is all the more terrifying because it is very possible. A cautionary tale filled with fierce and vibrant characters, Crosshairs explores the universal desire to thrive, to love and to be loved as your true self.
In a terrifyingly familiar near-future, with massive floods that lead to rampant homelessness and devastation, a government-sanctioned regime called the Boots seizes the opportunity to force communities of colour, the disabled and the LGBTQ2S into labour camps in the city of Toronto.
In the shadows, a new hero emerges. After his livelihood and the love of his life are taken away, Kay joins the resistance alongside Bahadur, a transmasculine refugee, and Firuzeh, a headstrong social worker. Guiding them in the use of weapons and close-quarters combat is Beck, a rogue army officer who helps them plan an uprising at a major internationally televised event.
With her signature prose, described by Booklist as “raw yet beautiful, disturbing yet hopeful,” Catherine Hernandez creates a vision of the future that is all the more terrifying because it is very possible. A cautionary tale filled with fierce and vibrant characters, Crosshairs explores the universal desire to thrive, to love and to be loved as your true self.
10 pages, Audible Audio
First published September 1, 2020
About the author
Catherine Hernandez
9 books564 followersCatherine Hernandez (she/her) is an award-winning author and screenwriter. She is a proud queer woman who is of Filipino, Spanish, Chinese and Indian descent and married into the Navajo Nation. Her first novel, Scarborough, won the Jim Wong-Chu Award for the unpublished manuscript; was a finalist for the Toronto Book Awards, the Evergreen Forest of Reading Award, the Edmund White Award, and the Trillium Book Award; and was longlisted for Canada Reads. She has written the critically acclaimed plays Singkil, The Femme Playlist and Eating with Lola and the children’s books M Is for Mustache: A Pride ABC Book and I Promise. She recently wrote the screenplay for the film adaptation of Scarborough, which is currently in post-production by Compy Films with support from Telefilm Canada and Reel Asian Film Festival. She is the creator of Audible Original’s audio sketch comedy series Imminent Disaster. Her second novel, Crosshairs, published simultaneously in Canada and the US and the UK this spring, made the CBC's Best Canadian Fiction, NOW Magazine's 10 Best Books, Indigo Best Book, Audible Best Audiobooks and NBC 20 Best LGBTQ Books list of 2020. Her third children's book, Where Do Your Feelings Live? which is a guide for kids living through these scary times, has been commissioned by HarperCollins Canada and will be published in winter 2022.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 355 reviews
January 21, 2021
This book slayed me. Terrifying and heartbreaking, it shows what could so easily happen if a dictatorship took over. This book is set in Canada, but could happen under any dictator anywhere in the world. Minorities are always the first on the list though no one is really safe under such a regime.
In Crosshairs, Black and Brown people, those in the LGBQT2S community, and disabled people are rounded up and thrown into concentration camps. Our narrator is Queen Kay, a young drag queen who narrowly escapes capture and is relating the story to his missing lover.
Ms. Hernandez exquisitely intertwines the present and the past, telling the histories of her characters and explaining how Canada got to this point of such hatred for "Others".
It's difficult to write about this book, and it was difficult to read. I look around at all the hatred of Black and Brown people and those of us in the LGBQTIA community, and I look at how the people who hate us tend to support right wing authoritarians..... and it's terrifying.
Thankfully this is a novel, a work of fiction. Let's hope it stays that way.
In Crosshairs, Black and Brown people, those in the LGBQT2S community, and disabled people are rounded up and thrown into concentration camps. Our narrator is Queen Kay, a young drag queen who narrowly escapes capture and is relating the story to his missing lover.
Ms. Hernandez exquisitely intertwines the present and the past, telling the histories of her characters and explaining how Canada got to this point of such hatred for "Others".
It's difficult to write about this book, and it was difficult to read. I look around at all the hatred of Black and Brown people and those of us in the LGBQTIA community, and I look at how the people who hate us tend to support right wing authoritarians..... and it's terrifying.
Thankfully this is a novel, a work of fiction. Let's hope it stays that way.
January 14, 2021
Brilliant. A difficult book to read, but also a book that leaves the reader with so much hope. CW: homophobia, specific use of f** as a slur, transphobia, racism, lynching, transphobic slurs, sexual abuse of a minor, emotional abuse, suicidal ideation, deadnaming, death of a child, and gang rape (described not on page). I received this book from Atria Books for review. All thoughts are my own. 4.5 Stars
I was dreading reviewing this book. Clearly it wasn't because I didn't enjoy it. This was just an instance where I was at a loss for words because the book was just that intense. Crosshairs is such an interesting book that I'm not really sure how to categorize it in terms of genre. It reads like literary fiction, but also as science fiction/dystopian. So, if I was attempting to describe it I would say literary science fiction if that's even a thing. It takes place in a alternative, but real life/modern version of Canada in which a cataclysmic enviornmental event has caused the country to go haywire. The novel itself focuses on Kay, descendent of Jamaican and Filipino heritage, as they write love letters to their partner. It is through these letters and through the stories of so many other characters that the reader learns that all individuals who are considered "other" are sent to these work camps that are supposed to be for the greater good of society. Of course, they are means for those who are White, Anglo Saxon, cis-gender, heterosexual, Protestants to control and oppress those who do not fit into their "normative" beliefs. Kay, like so many others, are on the run and in hiding with the assistance of an opposition group ready to expose the Canadian government and those running the camps for the inhuman ways that they have treated others.
This is a slow burn novel and very much so needed to be because of the complex issues discussed in the book. Nothing and I mean absolutely nothing about this novel is easy. The content warnings alone are enough to make anyone question whether they would enjoy this book; however, it is an important read. Catherine Hernandez utilizes this dystopian/science fiction like version of Canada to bring forward ideas/thoughts that are extremely relevant to conversations happening around the world right now in 2021. It is horrifying to know that the behaviors, thoughts, and ideals held by the oppressors in this novel are the same that are present in people today. So to know that marginalized groups were forced into precarious situations that forced them into hiding made me feel like this was something that could happen in real life. And that directly relates to Hernandez's conversation about intersectionality and visible marginalizations. Hernandez makes it clear that while some marginalizations may initially fall under the same "umbrella" categories, the experiences of said groups are extremely different. For example, we frequently use LGBTQ2SIA+ as an umbrella term but should know and understand that the experiences of a person who identifies as gay will not be the same as someone who has marginalizations that intersect between sexual identity and race. Those who can code switch and hide their marginalizations were never targeted like their counterparts and characters were quick to check each other on this.
Another interesting topic that Hernandez explores is performative activism and the meaning of allyship. This is a conversation that has been happening throughout communities all over the world even within the book community. Because those groups that are targeted are often on the run and in hiding, there are a number of individuals who can pass for white, cis gender, heterosexual citizens that assist in the resistance. Their ability to pass puts into question whether they are helping for self gradification, to make themselves feel better or if this is something they are doing because they truly want to stop their country from committing these atrocities. One of the best lines in the book that describes this exploration of theme is when a character states that "being an ally is a verb not a noun."
Overall, I thought that this was a powerful book. Definitely a difficult book, but one that that I found myself fully absorbed in and intrigued by. It may seem like this book is full of tragedies, but honestly Hernandez has a way of inserting hope into the conversation. And it was nice to see a glimmer of hope after all the trauma and tragedy that the characters face. The only criticism that I did have was the shifting and jumping of timelines. This happens not only with Kay, but also with side characters so there were moments when I had a difficult time keeping up. Other than that this novel was well-written and effectively mirrors the difficult conversations that we're having today. I'm looking forward to reading more by Catherine Hernandez.
I was dreading reviewing this book. Clearly it wasn't because I didn't enjoy it. This was just an instance where I was at a loss for words because the book was just that intense. Crosshairs is such an interesting book that I'm not really sure how to categorize it in terms of genre. It reads like literary fiction, but also as science fiction/dystopian. So, if I was attempting to describe it I would say literary science fiction if that's even a thing. It takes place in a alternative, but real life/modern version of Canada in which a cataclysmic enviornmental event has caused the country to go haywire. The novel itself focuses on Kay, descendent of Jamaican and Filipino heritage, as they write love letters to their partner. It is through these letters and through the stories of so many other characters that the reader learns that all individuals who are considered "other" are sent to these work camps that are supposed to be for the greater good of society. Of course, they are means for those who are White, Anglo Saxon, cis-gender, heterosexual, Protestants to control and oppress those who do not fit into their "normative" beliefs. Kay, like so many others, are on the run and in hiding with the assistance of an opposition group ready to expose the Canadian government and those running the camps for the inhuman ways that they have treated others.
This is a slow burn novel and very much so needed to be because of the complex issues discussed in the book. Nothing and I mean absolutely nothing about this novel is easy. The content warnings alone are enough to make anyone question whether they would enjoy this book; however, it is an important read. Catherine Hernandez utilizes this dystopian/science fiction like version of Canada to bring forward ideas/thoughts that are extremely relevant to conversations happening around the world right now in 2021. It is horrifying to know that the behaviors, thoughts, and ideals held by the oppressors in this novel are the same that are present in people today. So to know that marginalized groups were forced into precarious situations that forced them into hiding made me feel like this was something that could happen in real life. And that directly relates to Hernandez's conversation about intersectionality and visible marginalizations. Hernandez makes it clear that while some marginalizations may initially fall under the same "umbrella" categories, the experiences of said groups are extremely different. For example, we frequently use LGBTQ2SIA+ as an umbrella term but should know and understand that the experiences of a person who identifies as gay will not be the same as someone who has marginalizations that intersect between sexual identity and race. Those who can code switch and hide their marginalizations were never targeted like their counterparts and characters were quick to check each other on this.
Another interesting topic that Hernandez explores is performative activism and the meaning of allyship. This is a conversation that has been happening throughout communities all over the world even within the book community. Because those groups that are targeted are often on the run and in hiding, there are a number of individuals who can pass for white, cis gender, heterosexual citizens that assist in the resistance. Their ability to pass puts into question whether they are helping for self gradification, to make themselves feel better or if this is something they are doing because they truly want to stop their country from committing these atrocities. One of the best lines in the book that describes this exploration of theme is when a character states that "being an ally is a verb not a noun."
Overall, I thought that this was a powerful book. Definitely a difficult book, but one that that I found myself fully absorbed in and intrigued by. It may seem like this book is full of tragedies, but honestly Hernandez has a way of inserting hope into the conversation. And it was nice to see a glimmer of hope after all the trauma and tragedy that the characters face. The only criticism that I did have was the shifting and jumping of timelines. This happens not only with Kay, but also with side characters so there were moments when I had a difficult time keeping up. Other than that this novel was well-written and effectively mirrors the difficult conversations that we're having today. I'm looking forward to reading more by Catherine Hernandez.
December 20, 2020
I was thrilled to receive an early reader copy of Crosshairs. I heard great things about Scarborough, Hernandez’s previous work, and had high expectations. I’m a sucker for dystopian stories. Unfortunately, the story fell flat for me. It started off strong, but as it went on, I was sorely disappointed.
The premise was intriguing. In Canada, climate change has led to massive floods, leading to rampant homelessness and devastation. A government-sanctioned regime sweeps in, seizing the opportunity to force certain groups of people into dehumanizing conditions—workhouses, concentration camps, etc. Hunger Games, this is not. This is set in a near-recent world. The story jumps to different perspectives and Hernadez is an expert at weaving different narratives together. Her words are vivid and vibrant.
Yet, I had huge issues with the plot. I understand and appreciate the intent to be intersectional, but it caused some parts to read like a poorly written HR presentation on diversity and inclusion. The narrator is written to be in a limited third person or first person, yet can tell you everyone’s exact races and religions by just hearing their voice on the radio or getting a glimpse of them on television.
The characters would often break out into long monologues about racism and homophobia, laying out the life lessons the reader is supposed to gather in neat boxes wrapped in bows. This forced, heavy-handed dialogue turned the characters into flat caricatures and I felt very disconnected from them. Even in times of trauma, people speak with subtlety.
I was especially not satisfied with the “why” of the book. A genocide against anyone who is not white, Christian, straight, and able-bodied (the “Others”) is very alarming. That is a broad group of people, and it logistically doesn’t make any sense. How did it get there? At the beginning of the book, someone remarks, “All it takes are the right circumstances, and we’re in the same situation as Nazi Germany.” She’s foreshadowing—those circumstances are closer than you think. But what are the circumstances?
According to Hernandez, the answer is simple—most straight, able-bodied, Christian white people are racist, homophobic, and ableist. That’s it. Talk about a letdown. Hernandez had the opportunity to use actual historical examples of human internment and show how racism, homophobia, and ableism are nuanced with hidden passageways, unwritten rules, and centuries of compounded social conditioning. Even though the story used the devastating effects of climate change as a tipping point, I still didn’t buy it.
Genocide doesn’t happen with one racist Prime Minister. It involves years of misinformation, scapegoating, apathy, and mental gymnastics. Hernandez proposed that Canada has turned into an authoritarian killing machine in a year because it’s just what white people want, obviously. The lack of subtlety cheapened the entire story. The story would have been much stronger if we had actually seen the slow, dark descent into fascism instead of glossing over how it happens in the first place. I hate to be the one to say, “um, actually,” but if Hernandez was trying to echo the rise of the Nazi party, she should have known that the seeds of racist nationalism and antisemitism were sown at the end of the first world war with the stab-in-the-back myth—a full 15 years before the first concentration camp was established in Germany. I wish Hernandez had taken a page out of Atwood’s book—a decade of unrest, misinformation, pollution, and extremism, leading to a massacre and a government takeover.
I feel guilty for not enjoying this book because I am a marginalized person. I'm a woman, I'm black, I'm an immigrant, I'm not Christian, and I'm part of the LGBT community. This should have been something I resonated with, but instead, it feels like this was written to be a teachable moment to white people who have no concept of oppression. I enjoyed the suspense and the general storyline, but the commentary was bland and underdeveloped.
The premise was intriguing. In Canada, climate change has led to massive floods, leading to rampant homelessness and devastation. A government-sanctioned regime sweeps in, seizing the opportunity to force certain groups of people into dehumanizing conditions—workhouses, concentration camps, etc. Hunger Games, this is not. This is set in a near-recent world. The story jumps to different perspectives and Hernadez is an expert at weaving different narratives together. Her words are vivid and vibrant.
Yet, I had huge issues with the plot. I understand and appreciate the intent to be intersectional, but it caused some parts to read like a poorly written HR presentation on diversity and inclusion. The narrator is written to be in a limited third person or first person, yet can tell you everyone’s exact races and religions by just hearing their voice on the radio or getting a glimpse of them on television.
The characters would often break out into long monologues about racism and homophobia, laying out the life lessons the reader is supposed to gather in neat boxes wrapped in bows. This forced, heavy-handed dialogue turned the characters into flat caricatures and I felt very disconnected from them. Even in times of trauma, people speak with subtlety.
I was especially not satisfied with the “why” of the book. A genocide against anyone who is not white, Christian, straight, and able-bodied (the “Others”) is very alarming. That is a broad group of people, and it logistically doesn’t make any sense. How did it get there? At the beginning of the book, someone remarks, “All it takes are the right circumstances, and we’re in the same situation as Nazi Germany.” She’s foreshadowing—those circumstances are closer than you think. But what are the circumstances?
According to Hernandez, the answer is simple—most straight, able-bodied, Christian white people are racist, homophobic, and ableist. That’s it. Talk about a letdown. Hernandez had the opportunity to use actual historical examples of human internment and show how racism, homophobia, and ableism are nuanced with hidden passageways, unwritten rules, and centuries of compounded social conditioning. Even though the story used the devastating effects of climate change as a tipping point, I still didn’t buy it.
Genocide doesn’t happen with one racist Prime Minister. It involves years of misinformation, scapegoating, apathy, and mental gymnastics. Hernandez proposed that Canada has turned into an authoritarian killing machine in a year because it’s just what white people want, obviously. The lack of subtlety cheapened the entire story. The story would have been much stronger if we had actually seen the slow, dark descent into fascism instead of glossing over how it happens in the first place. I hate to be the one to say, “um, actually,” but if Hernandez was trying to echo the rise of the Nazi party, she should have known that the seeds of racist nationalism and antisemitism were sown at the end of the first world war with the stab-in-the-back myth—a full 15 years before the first concentration camp was established in Germany. I wish Hernandez had taken a page out of Atwood’s book—a decade of unrest, misinformation, pollution, and extremism, leading to a massacre and a government takeover.
I feel guilty for not enjoying this book because I am a marginalized person. I'm a woman, I'm black, I'm an immigrant, I'm not Christian, and I'm part of the LGBT community. This should have been something I resonated with, but instead, it feels like this was written to be a teachable moment to white people who have no concept of oppression. I enjoyed the suspense and the general storyline, but the commentary was bland and underdeveloped.
October 1, 2020
I hope to someday write a more eloquent & more thoughtful review, but here are my preliminary thoughts:
Set in dystopian Canada, we follow a queer femme drag performer who is Jamaican Filipino. Massive floods brought upon by environmental degradation left the majority of the population homeless, jobless, and starving. And some powerful white man seizes the opportunity to herald an oppressive regime where "Others" (i.e. marginalized groups) are sent to labor camps in the service of "True Canadians."
While this book dauntlessly takes on the oppression faced by many marginalized groups (e.g. POC and Indigenous, Muslims, queers, people with disabilities), there is definitely a heavy concentration on race, and specifically, Blackness. And I'll admit that I felt uncomfortable about the intense exploration of Blackness when the author is a non-Black person of color. I truly, wholeheartedly believe that this is outside of her lane and that the author should have written a main character who is more reflective of her identity.
At the same time, however, I don't want to completely dismiss the merits of this book. I *do* think that Crosshairs is a good book and that the story it tells is timely, important, and above all, frightening because of the many parallels between this dystopian society and the world we currently live in. Considering the state of politics in my own country and in many countries around the world, it isn't too hard to imagine a world where labor camps are reintroduced, people below the poverty line are killed without much thought, and people of color suffer the brunt of the discrimination.
Here are the things that I liked about this book:
📌 The exploration of culture and dynamics within Filipino communities is limited, but I did really appreciate the acknowledgment of anti-Blackness within our culture and among our people. There is a lot of anti-Black sentiments within many Asian cultures, and Filipinos are not an exception to this wrongness.
📌 The portrayal of and emphasis on intersectionality!!! One of the most powerful messages that Crosshairs repeats throughout its story is the safety net white queers have that are unavailable to queer people of color. In this fascist regime, white queers have the privilege to stay closeted in order to protect themselves from harm, whereas queer people of color do not have the liberty to change, erase, or hide their skin color. This leaves the latter as the most vulnerable to state-sanctioned violence. As I mentioned earlier, this book heavily concentrates on racism, and to reduce Crosshairs to a story about "queer resilience" is a complete dismissal of its major message.
📌 The way unlearning and true allyship are portrayed in this book is at times heavy-handed, but ultimately, brutally frank and realistic. I particularly appreciated the emphasis of needing to unlearn every single day.
📌 The drag scenes! And the friendships between and among the drag performers.
📌 I liked that this was not set in the United States because that seems to be the go-to setting of most dystopian civilizations (although the United States is also involved in introducing and maintaining this fascist regime).
📌 In line with this, this book challenges the popular notion of Canada being a paradise that's free of discrimination and prejudice. I particularly liked how it brought attention to the issues faced by Indigenous peoples.
📌 The use of sensitivity readers.* According to the author's acknowledgments, she "assembled a team of artist colleagues who represent various community including Disabled, Black, Brown, Indigenous, Muslim, Queer, Trans, and Deaf-identified folks."
* While this does not necessarily guarantee authentic representation, it does alleviate some of my discomforts. However, it is not my place to discern whether these measures are enough or whether the final outcome is respectful to other marginalized groups, especially to the Black community. Although the main character is part-Filipino, I do not consider myself an #ownvoices reviewer for Crosshairs because Kay makes it clear that she considers herself to be more Black than Filipino. I will, in turn, contact the publisher and request that they give advanced reading copies into the hands of #ownvoices Black reviewers. (I'll definitely link #ownvoices reviews here once I find any.)
With all that said, if you do consider giving this novel a try, I highly encourage you to check out the content and trigger warnings (see below) and to ensure that you're in the right headspace before diving in.
Recommended with caution.
Content warnings:
Note: I received an ARC of Crosshairs from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Set in dystopian Canada, we follow a queer femme drag performer who is Jamaican Filipino. Massive floods brought upon by environmental degradation left the majority of the population homeless, jobless, and starving. And some powerful white man seizes the opportunity to herald an oppressive regime where "Others" (i.e. marginalized groups) are sent to labor camps in the service of "True Canadians."
While this book dauntlessly takes on the oppression faced by many marginalized groups (e.g. POC and Indigenous, Muslims, queers, people with disabilities), there is definitely a heavy concentration on race, and specifically, Blackness. And I'll admit that I felt uncomfortable about the intense exploration of Blackness when the author is a non-Black person of color. I truly, wholeheartedly believe that this is outside of her lane and that the author should have written a main character who is more reflective of her identity.
At the same time, however, I don't want to completely dismiss the merits of this book. I *do* think that Crosshairs is a good book and that the story it tells is timely, important, and above all, frightening because of the many parallels between this dystopian society and the world we currently live in. Considering the state of politics in my own country and in many countries around the world, it isn't too hard to imagine a world where labor camps are reintroduced, people below the poverty line are killed without much thought, and people of color suffer the brunt of the discrimination.
Here are the things that I liked about this book:
📌 The exploration of culture and dynamics within Filipino communities is limited, but I did really appreciate the acknowledgment of anti-Blackness within our culture and among our people. There is a lot of anti-Black sentiments within many Asian cultures, and Filipinos are not an exception to this wrongness.
📌 The portrayal of and emphasis on intersectionality!!! One of the most powerful messages that Crosshairs repeats throughout its story is the safety net white queers have that are unavailable to queer people of color. In this fascist regime, white queers have the privilege to stay closeted in order to protect themselves from harm, whereas queer people of color do not have the liberty to change, erase, or hide their skin color. This leaves the latter as the most vulnerable to state-sanctioned violence. As I mentioned earlier, this book heavily concentrates on racism, and to reduce Crosshairs to a story about "queer resilience" is a complete dismissal of its major message.
📌 The way unlearning and true allyship are portrayed in this book is at times heavy-handed, but ultimately, brutally frank and realistic. I particularly appreciated the emphasis of needing to unlearn every single day.
📌 The drag scenes! And the friendships between and among the drag performers.
📌 I liked that this was not set in the United States because that seems to be the go-to setting of most dystopian civilizations (although the United States is also involved in introducing and maintaining this fascist regime).
📌 In line with this, this book challenges the popular notion of Canada being a paradise that's free of discrimination and prejudice. I particularly liked how it brought attention to the issues faced by Indigenous peoples.
📌 The use of sensitivity readers.* According to the author's acknowledgments, she "assembled a team of artist colleagues who represent various community including Disabled, Black, Brown, Indigenous, Muslim, Queer, Trans, and Deaf-identified folks."
* While this does not necessarily guarantee authentic representation, it does alleviate some of my discomforts. However, it is not my place to discern whether these measures are enough or whether the final outcome is respectful to other marginalized groups, especially to the Black community. Although the main character is part-Filipino, I do not consider myself an #ownvoices reviewer for Crosshairs because Kay makes it clear that she considers herself to be more Black than Filipino. I will, in turn, contact the publisher and request that they give advanced reading copies into the hands of #ownvoices Black reviewers. (I'll definitely link #ownvoices reviews here once I find any.)
With all that said, if you do consider giving this novel a try, I highly encourage you to check out the content and trigger warnings (see below) and to ensure that you're in the right headspace before diving in.
Recommended with caution.
Content warnings:
Note: I received an ARC of Crosshairs from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Want to read
September 16, 2020This sounds like an incredibly difficult read but oh my god the premise could not be more timely
I WANT
I WANT
December 22, 2020
Crosshairs is a dystopian novel with elements of social justice that definitely hits close to home due to the worlds current events. The LGBTQ+ community and POC are forced into concentration camps. This future world went through massive floods leading to homelessness and hunger while the rich do nothing about it. The parallels between the book and real life in Trump’s America made it very thought provoking and eye opening.
I loved the representation of the LGBTQ+ and people of color characters who were all very strong and well rounded. They each had a personality to them and I cared about each one. We get to hear everyones backstory and what they went through to get where they are now. I also loved the Canadian setting as most dystopian novels take place in America or some unknown land.
Though this was such a heart breaking read, the underlying central theme of hope was continuous and prominent. Hernandez has beautiful writing that is easy to read but has a poetic feel to it as well. Overall, I really enjoyed this novel and even though I finished it a few days ago, I still have been thinking about it.
Thank you so much to Netgalley and Atria books for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honesty review.
I loved the representation of the LGBTQ+ and people of color characters who were all very strong and well rounded. They each had a personality to them and I cared about each one. We get to hear everyones backstory and what they went through to get where they are now. I also loved the Canadian setting as most dystopian novels take place in America or some unknown land.
Though this was such a heart breaking read, the underlying central theme of hope was continuous and prominent. Hernandez has beautiful writing that is easy to read but has a poetic feel to it as well. Overall, I really enjoyed this novel and even though I finished it a few days ago, I still have been thinking about it.
Thank you so much to Netgalley and Atria books for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honesty review.
June 13, 2020
I often feel inadequate with writing reviews, but especially with this one. Please go easy on my mush brain and understand how precious and important this title is to me, to queer folx, to the most marginalized and vulnerable in Canadian society.
Crosshairs is everything that LGBTQIA+ people fear and everything we hope for. This dystopian Canada felt close to home and uncomfortably possible. Labour camps, degradation and dehumanization, mass murder of BIPOC and queer folx. But also some examples of systemic oppression with which we're already familiar. Forced sterilization of Indigenous women, denial of treaty rights and hereditary land stewardship authority, racism within the queer community, anti-Blackness within white and non-white PoC communities. These things do happen, these things that should belong only in a dystopian novel. These things that happen all the time but should be unimaginable. It's a world that represents a nightmare for me and a dream for politicians like Mike Pence and Maxime Bernier. Consider trigger warnings of child molestation, murder, enslavement, hate crimes and slurs against racial and religious minorities and LGBTQIA+ folx, etc before picking this up. Every kind of abuse of power at the expense of those most vulnerable due to marginalization and systemic structural violence. We know their rhetoric already. Keep an eye out for "lazy immigrants" who take away opportunities for the "true Canadians". Can't you just hear your dad/grandpa/boss/neighbour/political candidate saying those words? A world where this sentiment, this fear and hatred of the Other, is manifested into very real horrors for those deemed abnormal.
Yet this vision of rich diversity, agency, and powerful allyship represented is what we dream of. White queers and straight allies acknowledging their privilege in a world that hones in on visible difference first. Their privilege of passing as 'acceptable' in a dangerous world, yet still these characters rise to the occasion and defend their brothers and sisters without expectation of recognition. There are some powerful lines I will repeat to myself, their mantra of active allyship without performance or virtue signaling. BIPOC queer folx fighting back against oppressors who want to stomp them into the ground.
Crosshairs is a book that champions and celebrates many kinds of intersectional diversity in the land known now as Canada. Indigenous, Black, South Asian, gay, lesbian, trans, queer, Muslim, (dis)abled, introvert, drag queen. A rainbow mosaic of beauty and love. I don't think I can coherently say how good it felt (despite the horrors of the Renovation and the trauma experienced by the characters) to read a book that was so confidently, naturally, jubilantly intersectional of every kind. If you can stomach the subject matter, this is not to be missed. A warning, yes. A book with horrific violence and foreboding images of a possible future. But also a love letter, a coming-out, a memorial, a celebration. Every kind of amazing.
Crosshairs is everything that LGBTQIA+ people fear and everything we hope for. This dystopian Canada felt close to home and uncomfortably possible. Labour camps, degradation and dehumanization, mass murder of BIPOC and queer folx. But also some examples of systemic oppression with which we're already familiar. Forced sterilization of Indigenous women, denial of treaty rights and hereditary land stewardship authority, racism within the queer community, anti-Blackness within white and non-white PoC communities. These things do happen, these things that should belong only in a dystopian novel. These things that happen all the time but should be unimaginable. It's a world that represents a nightmare for me and a dream for politicians like Mike Pence and Maxime Bernier. Consider trigger warnings of child molestation, murder, enslavement, hate crimes and slurs against racial and religious minorities and LGBTQIA+ folx, etc before picking this up. Every kind of abuse of power at the expense of those most vulnerable due to marginalization and systemic structural violence. We know their rhetoric already. Keep an eye out for "lazy immigrants" who take away opportunities for the "true Canadians". Can't you just hear your dad/grandpa/boss/neighbour/political candidate saying those words? A world where this sentiment, this fear and hatred of the Other, is manifested into very real horrors for those deemed abnormal.
Yet this vision of rich diversity, agency, and powerful allyship represented is what we dream of. White queers and straight allies acknowledging their privilege in a world that hones in on visible difference first. Their privilege of passing as 'acceptable' in a dangerous world, yet still these characters rise to the occasion and defend their brothers and sisters without expectation of recognition. There are some powerful lines I will repeat to myself, their mantra of active allyship without performance or virtue signaling. BIPOC queer folx fighting back against oppressors who want to stomp them into the ground.
Crosshairs is a book that champions and celebrates many kinds of intersectional diversity in the land known now as Canada. Indigenous, Black, South Asian, gay, lesbian, trans, queer, Muslim, (dis)abled, introvert, drag queen. A rainbow mosaic of beauty and love. I don't think I can coherently say how good it felt (despite the horrors of the Renovation and the trauma experienced by the characters) to read a book that was so confidently, naturally, jubilantly intersectional of every kind. If you can stomach the subject matter, this is not to be missed. A warning, yes. A book with horrific violence and foreboding images of a possible future. But also a love letter, a coming-out, a memorial, a celebration. Every kind of amazing.
June 23, 2021
It's a near future dystopian Toronto that finds the white colonizers backed into a corner after a devastating flood which prompts the Renovation. Politicians couch their words in the dog whistle rhetoric of only being concerned with protecting the interests of "True Canadians." There is a symbolic joining of hands with Americans under the slyly subversive mantra "Two Nations, One Vision." Soon a jackbooted militia referred to as Boots brings their heavy-handed "order" to bear with thuggish tactics that target people of color and those with disabilities or on the LGBTQ2S+ spectrum.
Forced into work camps or sent into hiding, these "Others" rely on each other, with the help of allies that aren't trying to center their own voices or white knight their way into some kind of cathartic redemption. It's a powerful story that provides countless moments that feel all too horribly plausible.
But what was bothering me about the story was clarified when I found out that author Catherine Hernandez is a dramaturge. That theatre background shines through. The beats are bigger and boisterous - the emotion front and center and always out loud. There's a clear eye to the physicality of many scenes and you can imagine certain lines being expelled from the diaphragm to play to the cheap seats. Her intersectionality informs the casting and we're careful to check all the boxes from the obvious racialized communities as well as queer, trans, and gay to the neurodivergent, disabled and deaf. You're building to that big theatrical payoff at the end where these "othered" take the stage, spotlighted and proudly defiant in all their diversity in a rousing chorus that builds to an epic crescendo, hold for the requisite triumphant bars, and then the curtain falls as the house lights go dark. Beat. Roaring applause.
Forced into work camps or sent into hiding, these "Others" rely on each other, with the help of allies that aren't trying to center their own voices or white knight their way into some kind of cathartic redemption. It's a powerful story that provides countless moments that feel all too horribly plausible.
But what was bothering me about the story was clarified when I found out that author Catherine Hernandez is a dramaturge. That theatre background shines through. The beats are bigger and boisterous - the emotion front and center and always out loud. There's a clear eye to the physicality of many scenes and you can imagine certain lines being expelled from the diaphragm to play to the cheap seats. Her intersectionality informs the casting and we're careful to check all the boxes from the obvious racialized communities as well as queer, trans, and gay to the neurodivergent, disabled and deaf. You're building to that big theatrical payoff at the end where these "othered" take the stage, spotlighted and proudly defiant in all their diversity in a rousing chorus that builds to an epic crescendo, hold for the requisite triumphant bars, and then the curtain falls as the house lights go dark. Beat. Roaring applause.
April 23, 2021
This book is soo soo intense. I understand it’s purpose, but it broke me down. It was hard to read due to the levels of fear that it arose in me. And it made me mad because I felt like as a Black girl reading this, why is it me as the reader that always has to be afraid or witnessing my folks experiencing brutality in text, on tv, in fiction. That’s my complaint.
The way that Catherine Hernandez illustrates how fragile life is, how easy it is and has been for life to be ripped away from communities of colour and LGBTQ2+ communities by white communities was not hyperbolic, but it was a lot to grapple with. A lot of the scenes depicted have already happened in various forms globally. Residential schools have happened, the school to prison pipeline exists, police brutality exists, white supremist groups like the KKK exist and their modern counterparts exist, nazi Germany & concentration camps happened, slavery happened, LGBTQ people are still persecuted against in countries all over the world from Russia to Jamaica and it’s all too damn much.
It was all just a lot to read. It was heavy as fuck.
The positive is that it was well-written of course. Hernandez’s ability to describe Toronto — it’s neighbourhoods & it’s city streets and the vibe on a whole from politicians you can’t count on, to business men trying to feed their own interests with political help, her descriptions of the uptight areas to the inclusive ones, everything was spot on. Queen Kay & Evan — that transcendent love story used as a catalyst to continue to fight for freedom was wonderful, a little played out, but it was heartfelt and touching nonetheless.
The ending I felt was too abrupt for the amount of pain that was expounded upon throughout the book. This could be a series. However, I can’t commit to something so bleak.
Which leads me back to my complaint that we have so many books about the importance of combating genocide, discrimination, etc. I want to see exploitation shared around the other way. Make the true others, the others in these books,the others in the world who are currently griping about their shrinking numbers, who may hold the money, get a little smoke and robbery sent their way instead of having them always being identified as the ones who are in control. Why give that over in your work all the time without any power struggle in the 2K-era? They may hold the purse strings but the diverse population are the ones with the numbers, and why can’t we divest from the continuous misery and standard narrative so close to our lives. I’m spitballing here, but I want to see the trauma shared around rather than always placed on the backs of the black and brown especially when no attention is given to what happens after the uprising. Right now, we have to live that on a day to day — this is fiction, you can create whatever you want. Maybe if it’s them with the burden, we may hit it further into their psyche the necessity of working alongside us to right the world. These books, these texts feel like they’re meant to illuminate the situations occurring or that have occurred. Sterilize a white woman in one these books, put a bunch of white frat bros in a concentration camp overseen by black folks as reparations for the bullshit that they’ve contributed to for years. Let the understanding and importance of freedom and liberation swing both ways.
Another thing I noticed about this book, it gave heavy 2020-era Handmaid’s Tale (tv show) vibes and I was here for it, but yo honestly, Crosshairs was hard to read!!! I’m not good with books that only offer a sliver of hope. Knowing how people exploit use trauma porn to make a buck, I’m going to need all non-Black folks engaging in that dynamic involving Black people to give up more than a sprinkle of hope. If you’re heaping on the tragedy, I’m going to need you to heap on the reconstruction. Read at your own emotional, mental & spiritual risk.
The way that Catherine Hernandez illustrates how fragile life is, how easy it is and has been for life to be ripped away from communities of colour and LGBTQ2+ communities by white communities was not hyperbolic, but it was a lot to grapple with. A lot of the scenes depicted have already happened in various forms globally. Residential schools have happened, the school to prison pipeline exists, police brutality exists, white supremist groups like the KKK exist and their modern counterparts exist, nazi Germany & concentration camps happened, slavery happened, LGBTQ people are still persecuted against in countries all over the world from Russia to Jamaica and it’s all too damn much.
It was all just a lot to read. It was heavy as fuck.
The positive is that it was well-written of course. Hernandez’s ability to describe Toronto — it’s neighbourhoods & it’s city streets and the vibe on a whole from politicians you can’t count on, to business men trying to feed their own interests with political help, her descriptions of the uptight areas to the inclusive ones, everything was spot on. Queen Kay & Evan — that transcendent love story used as a catalyst to continue to fight for freedom was wonderful, a little played out, but it was heartfelt and touching nonetheless.
The ending I felt was too abrupt for the amount of pain that was expounded upon throughout the book. This could be a series. However, I can’t commit to something so bleak.
Which leads me back to my complaint that we have so many books about the importance of combating genocide, discrimination, etc. I want to see exploitation shared around the other way. Make the true others, the others in these books,the others in the world who are currently griping about their shrinking numbers, who may hold the money, get a little smoke and robbery sent their way instead of having them always being identified as the ones who are in control. Why give that over in your work all the time without any power struggle in the 2K-era? They may hold the purse strings but the diverse population are the ones with the numbers, and why can’t we divest from the continuous misery and standard narrative so close to our lives. I’m spitballing here, but I want to see the trauma shared around rather than always placed on the backs of the black and brown especially when no attention is given to what happens after the uprising. Right now, we have to live that on a day to day — this is fiction, you can create whatever you want. Maybe if it’s them with the burden, we may hit it further into their psyche the necessity of working alongside us to right the world. These books, these texts feel like they’re meant to illuminate the situations occurring or that have occurred. Sterilize a white woman in one these books, put a bunch of white frat bros in a concentration camp overseen by black folks as reparations for the bullshit that they’ve contributed to for years. Let the understanding and importance of freedom and liberation swing both ways.
Another thing I noticed about this book, it gave heavy 2020-era Handmaid’s Tale (tv show) vibes and I was here for it, but yo honestly, Crosshairs was hard to read!!! I’m not good with books that only offer a sliver of hope. Knowing how people exploit use trauma porn to make a buck, I’m going to need all non-Black folks engaging in that dynamic involving Black people to give up more than a sprinkle of hope. If you’re heaping on the tragedy, I’m going to need you to heap on the reconstruction. Read at your own emotional, mental & spiritual risk.
November 24, 2020
Thanks to Atria Books for the free advance copy of this book.
📚 Wowww, this was horrifying. The world of CROSSHAIRS is only a breath away from our own, and it's easy to see the path we'd take to reach it.
📚 Heavy emphasis on intersectionality and how differently oppression works for queer BIPOC and trans people than for white cis queer people who could pass as straight if they wanted to.
📚 The flashback scenes to Kay's drag days were so joyful and loving.
📚 Great discussions of how allyship is an action, not just a label, and how white people can use their privilege to both lift up BIPOC leaders and to put their bodies on the front lines.
What I didn't like:
📚 A lot of the dialogue was stiff and unnatural, which took me out of the story a few times.
Content warnings: Ableism, bullying, child abuse, child death, deadnaming, death, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, genocide, gun violence, hate crime, homophobia, Islamophobia, kidnapping, physical abuse, police brutality, racial slurs, racism, rape, religious bigotry, sexism, sexual violence, suicide, suicidal thoughts, torture, transphobia, violence, and xenophobia.
📚 Wowww, this was horrifying. The world of CROSSHAIRS is only a breath away from our own, and it's easy to see the path we'd take to reach it.
📚 Heavy emphasis on intersectionality and how differently oppression works for queer BIPOC and trans people than for white cis queer people who could pass as straight if they wanted to.
📚 The flashback scenes to Kay's drag days were so joyful and loving.
📚 Great discussions of how allyship is an action, not just a label, and how white people can use their privilege to both lift up BIPOC leaders and to put their bodies on the front lines.
What I didn't like:
📚 A lot of the dialogue was stiff and unnatural, which took me out of the story a few times.
Content warnings: Ableism, bullying, child abuse, child death, deadnaming, death, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, genocide, gun violence, hate crime, homophobia, Islamophobia, kidnapping, physical abuse, police brutality, racial slurs, racism, rape, religious bigotry, sexism, sexual violence, suicide, suicidal thoughts, torture, transphobia, violence, and xenophobia.
November 24, 2020
This book will stick with you for a long time. It’s been several days since I read it and I’m still thinking about it.
September 24, 2020
This book started off enjoyably, but as it trundled on it grew more and more disappointing. Although the book brought many good things to the table, I felt that it failed in it's mission to challenge people with privilege, largely by excluding certain groups and presenting a "more palatable" introduction to working through privilege.
I love the concept of a revolution that is inclusive of everyone, watching characters unpack their privilege, and learn how to ally non-performatively;
All-in-all, not the worst book of this genre that I've read, but it felt like an academic paper where the student forgot their thesis statement partway through and just threw in references in the hopes that they'd meet the word count.
I love the concept of a revolution that is inclusive of everyone, watching characters unpack their privilege, and learn how to ally non-performatively;
All-in-all, not the worst book of this genre that I've read, but it felt like an academic paper where the student forgot their thesis statement partway through and just threw in references in the hopes that they'd meet the word count.
October 23, 2020
A cautionary tale set in the near future in Toronto, Canada, this novel draws on contemporary politics to remind us of the fragility of freedom, that is, how quickly the rhetoric of othering can cross the line into actions of othering. A powerful far-right group in Toronto uses a climate catastrophe as the pretext for establishing work settlements for “The Others,” that is the disabled, people of colour, and members of the LGBTQ2S community, that in reality are extermination camps. The novel is at its best when it is looking back in time to that moment when so many, including those the government will label “Other,” failed to heed the warning signs of a fast encroaching fascist regime, because they are either too wrapped up in the everyday struggle to survive or too committed to denial that they ignored what was happening around them. As Queen Kay, a queer black performer, who first must hide and then learn how to fight back, recalls: “We shrugged our shoulders each time a restaurant refused us service, delightfully held hands and tried our luck elsewhere. We wove through countless protest marches and political demonstrations to catch a movie, only to be told in not so many words that we were no longer allowed in such spaces, so we would shrug our shoulders again, head home, and make love.” Like so many, Queen Kay did not see the danger until it was too late, until she was forced into hiding, until she had to find within herself once again the belief that she deserved to live, because the government with each humiliation stole her hard-won identity and self-esteem. This was not the first time that Queen Kay had experienced devastating humiliation and torture; the first time was at the hands of her mother and the religious community that she had joined: “My mother, my own mother, filled a glass with water from the tap. My own mother did not look at me as the zip-tied my hands behind the chair, poked and prodded me. My own mother shut her face off, shut her body off…” as they threw holy water in his face and screamed at him to repent.” It is a subtle reminder of the ambiguous line that separates perpetrator from bystander from victim. For his mother who once victimized him also belongs to the world of the Others that the provincial government is now systematically exploiting and killing. Similarly, while the race dimension is front and centre in this story of repression and genocide, we see how the categories that separate “Other” from so-called true Canadian is both porous and arbitrary. The reader sees the female “Boot” officer who is in fact of Iranian heritage, who hides behind the uniform while persecuting others of her same heritage. We see how poor whites, although seemingly safe from the government’s campaign of genocide, are in fact just one step away from being othered as well. We see this when we discover Beck’s elderly parents living on a farm where the animals are all dead and there is no fresh water to be had. Their skin colour only gives them a limited amount of protection for this genocidal campaign is also a class war, in which the rich succeed in exploiting the poor whites by championing racism, xenophobia, and homophobia. There were times in this novel when I thought that the author should have made these themes more explicit. But after much thought I realized that the subtlety with which they are presented is what makes this seemingly fantastical dystopian novel so powerful and eerily realistic. If they were more explicit, their ability to lure so many of us into a false sense of security would not be so great.
I would like to thank the author, the publisher, and NetGalley for an advance copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review.
I would like to thank the author, the publisher, and NetGalley for an advance copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review.
January 13, 2021
Through narrative, Hernandez defines concepts which can seem brittle in non-fiction writing, but come alive when expressed through characters. It's the story which teaches us:
White fragility
Inherent bias
The costs of suffocating identity
The dangers of authoritarianism
Fascism doesn't happen overnight; it happens little by little, testing to see what the majority will accept.
Fascism depends on scapegoating a minority group.
As Climate change disasters increase, there will be twin dangers: the problems themselves, and those who rise to say they can fix it.
Be careful about choosing those you give power.
Be careful about protecting your agency.
Be careful about accepting the framing of the info you consume.
Never give up your rights, or deny the rights of others, no matter what the national emergency.
Never ignore injustice.
Outrage without action is useless.
Everyone has intrinsic value.
What you allow shows who you are.
The story isn't perfect, or even necessarily plausible, yet, we can see it as a harbinger. The messages are important.
White fragility
Inherent bias
The costs of suffocating identity
The dangers of authoritarianism
Fascism doesn't happen overnight; it happens little by little, testing to see what the majority will accept.
Fascism depends on scapegoating a minority group.
As Climate change disasters increase, there will be twin dangers: the problems themselves, and those who rise to say they can fix it.
Be careful about choosing those you give power.
Be careful about protecting your agency.
Be careful about accepting the framing of the info you consume.
Never give up your rights, or deny the rights of others, no matter what the national emergency.
Never ignore injustice.
Outrage without action is useless.
Everyone has intrinsic value.
What you allow shows who you are.
The story isn't perfect, or even necessarily plausible, yet, we can see it as a harbinger. The messages are important.
September 4, 2021
Indrukwekkend. Overweldigend. Angstaanjagend.
Het beste boek dat ik dit jaar heb gelezen 💜💚💛
Ga dit lezen en check je privileges.
Het beste boek dat ik dit jaar heb gelezen 💜💚💛
Ga dit lezen en check je privileges.
December 8, 2020
This book was a beautiful nightmare that felt all too real— a world wrecked by environmental disaster and overrun by bigotry and hate. We navigate this dystopian Canada through the eyes of Kay via the letters he is writing to his lover, Evan, whom he is has lost amongst the establishment of the “Renovation”. Kay is the son of Filipino and Jamaican immigrants, a gay femme man, and a drag queen, on the run from persecution for simply existing.
⠀
We are thrown right into the thick of the “Renovation”, where hate crimes are considered an act of national security, “Others” are being rounded up and placed in work camps, and private businesses employing citizen militias are in league with the government to oppress those who are not “true Canadians”.
⠀
This story was absolutely terrifying and painfully human, but ultimately hopeful. Even when the world is on fire and all resemblances of humanity seem to be lost, there is still so much and so many to fight for.
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ALSO I desperately want this to be adapted for like a series on HBO or something. I think this story would translate so well on screen. But please read the book; these words are powerful!
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Thank you so so much to my friends at @atriabooks for sending me this killer book!
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We are thrown right into the thick of the “Renovation”, where hate crimes are considered an act of national security, “Others” are being rounded up and placed in work camps, and private businesses employing citizen militias are in league with the government to oppress those who are not “true Canadians”.
⠀
This story was absolutely terrifying and painfully human, but ultimately hopeful. Even when the world is on fire and all resemblances of humanity seem to be lost, there is still so much and so many to fight for.
⠀
ALSO I desperately want this to be adapted for like a series on HBO or something. I think this story would translate so well on screen. But please read the book; these words are powerful!
⠀
Thank you so so much to my friends at @atriabooks for sending me this killer book!
December 15, 2020
Crosshairs is AMAZING. It is a book that offers something for all readers to connect with, but not in an unnatural or gimmicky way. This book is just as real as they come, and no one can look away after reading and say they haven't been profoundly affected.
This is a view of a country that is just one step further than where the United States (and many other seemingly democratic nations) sits at the moment. It is a harsh wake up call and a call for change, to make sure that nothing like this ever happens in a place we call home. I thought it was especially clever of Hernandez to set this book in Canada, a place that many view as a liberal bastion compared to the chaotic politics of the U.S. However, Hernandez makes clear that a fascist, corrupt government can form anywhere, regardless of whatever high global standing a country might be considered to have. Hernandez also turns the global ignorance of genocide on its head—one might expect that such a thing would never happen in such an "advanced" country, someone else would step in, the world wouldn't just sit around and watch. But that isn't necessarily true—just as the U.S. ignores genocide happening elsewhere in the world, other countries would happily do the same when it suits their interest. This is a call to action and activism, to take up arms for positive change in your own country because no one will be around later to rescue you but yourself.
Pushing that mini-rant aside (where did that even come from, I've no idea...), this is a novel that is about love and freedom. While the dystopian setting and plot are harsh, scary, and bring activism to the forefront, this story is one that is driven by love from the first page. There is amazing representation, of LGBTQ2S voices, of Black and Brown voices, of people from diverse socio-economic backgrounds. It is genuine, heartfelt, powerful, and beautiful. I fell in love with each character and learned and felt so much from each of their stories. I think everyone can find themselves reflected in this story and the characters who come alive within it.
Hernandez expertly dives into the layers of identity, and how queerness and race intersect. It is a complex topic, and there were moments that characters made mistakes. I really appreciated how Hernandez addressed those conflicts in a way that is both perfectly fitting within the book, and within our own lives, yet nothing felt like a "teaching moment" or out of place. Perfection!
This novel is real, powerful, eye-opening, beautiful, loving, and empowering. It will make you feel all the feelings, and everyone needs to read it!! Definitely one of my 2020 faves!
Thank you to Atria Books and Netgalley for providing me with an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review. :)
This is a view of a country that is just one step further than where the United States (and many other seemingly democratic nations) sits at the moment. It is a harsh wake up call and a call for change, to make sure that nothing like this ever happens in a place we call home. I thought it was especially clever of Hernandez to set this book in Canada, a place that many view as a liberal bastion compared to the chaotic politics of the U.S. However, Hernandez makes clear that a fascist, corrupt government can form anywhere, regardless of whatever high global standing a country might be considered to have. Hernandez also turns the global ignorance of genocide on its head—one might expect that such a thing would never happen in such an "advanced" country, someone else would step in, the world wouldn't just sit around and watch. But that isn't necessarily true—just as the U.S. ignores genocide happening elsewhere in the world, other countries would happily do the same when it suits their interest. This is a call to action and activism, to take up arms for positive change in your own country because no one will be around later to rescue you but yourself.
Pushing that mini-rant aside (where did that even come from, I've no idea...), this is a novel that is about love and freedom. While the dystopian setting and plot are harsh, scary, and bring activism to the forefront, this story is one that is driven by love from the first page. There is amazing representation, of LGBTQ2S voices, of Black and Brown voices, of people from diverse socio-economic backgrounds. It is genuine, heartfelt, powerful, and beautiful. I fell in love with each character and learned and felt so much from each of their stories. I think everyone can find themselves reflected in this story and the characters who come alive within it.
Hernandez expertly dives into the layers of identity, and how queerness and race intersect. It is a complex topic, and there were moments that characters made mistakes. I really appreciated how Hernandez addressed those conflicts in a way that is both perfectly fitting within the book, and within our own lives, yet nothing felt like a "teaching moment" or out of place. Perfection!
This novel is real, powerful, eye-opening, beautiful, loving, and empowering. It will make you feel all the feelings, and everyone needs to read it!! Definitely one of my 2020 faves!
Thank you to Atria Books and Netgalley for providing me with an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review. :)
June 22, 2020
Crosshairs is a startling, riveting dystopian novel that exposes just how closely our world aligns with the fascist regime depicted in this story. I was thoroughly riveted by this book, and the story is heart-pounding and compelling throughout. Some parts of the book/dialogue was a bit heavy-handed, but they were extremely informative and I learned from them. I also found the ending to be a bit abrupt, but still inspiring. Overall, this is a thrilling dystopian novel that carries an important message that must be heard.
CW for: transphobia, racial & lgbtq+ slurs, systemic violence and oppression, hate crimes, genocide, deadnaming, sterilization, pedophilia, torture, loss of loved ones, depictions of grief. Crosshairs is a worthwhile read, but tread lightly if you have similar experiences to the characters and their stories.
*I received a digital ARC from Atria Books and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review*
CW for: transphobia, racial & lgbtq+ slurs, systemic violence and oppression, hate crimes, genocide, deadnaming, sterilization, pedophilia, torture, loss of loved ones, depictions of grief. Crosshairs is a worthwhile read, but tread lightly if you have similar experiences to the characters and their stories.
*I received a digital ARC from Atria Books and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review*
December 28, 2020
It’s a little heavy-handed
June 9, 2020
CW: transphobia, homophobia, assault.
CROSSHAIRS floored me. Catherine Hernandez is a brilliant and powerful writer who brings this dystopian society to life. It follows Kay, a Black drag queen who’s on the run after the extremist faction of government in the lands currently known as Toronto and Canada have put their racist, discriminatory, fascist beliefs into law. Kay has been on the run for months, hiding out with his friend, Liv, who’s part of the Resistance. Kay eventually has to run again, after Liv informs him that Toronto isn’t safe, and he gets picked up by a white Resistance member named Beck. Along the way, we also meet Bahadur and countless other Brown, Black, and queer folks who have been on the run and are fighting back against this oppressive regime taking over taking over the world.
There are some hefty trigger warnings for this, but Hernandez is an important voice and tells these stories respectfully and with the fire that they deserve. She addresses labor issues, capitalism, imperialism, colonialism, the hatred of “Others” that we are all too familiar with in 2020. She brings up Indigenous identity alongside Black and queer characters, and the true intersectionality of this book is a work of art in and of itself. I suppose sometimes it’s a bit obvious that she’s trying to be intentionally inclusive and diverse, but to be honest I think that’s what it takes in literature. We need to be blatant and intentional with who’s getting portrayed in texts so we normalize inclusivity and intersectionality, so I not only understand why Hernandez does this, I think it works and illustrates her message perfectly.
Now, plot wise, I wouldn’t say there’s anything completely unexpected. The dystopian world Hernandez creates has workhouses (read: concentration camps), a segment of extremists who are limiting the rights and ending lives of “Others,” another segment of the population - comprised of Others and allies - who’s revolting against the oppression. It doesn’t necessarily have any characteristics we haven’t seen before in other dystopian novels, with the glaring and fundamental exception of the truly inclusive nature of this story and its characters. But the fact that this world doesn’t feel surprising is actually one of the most remarkable things about Hernandez’ skill as a writer: she has successfully extrapolated our current situations - human rights abuses, political power and greed of the wealthy and corporations, racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic policies and people - to dystopian Toronto, and it feels eerily close to what we could all imagine happening if we don’t do something.
CROSSHAIRS compels us to sit in whatever privilege we might have, listen to other voices, reflect on our role in perpetuating oppressive systems and what people not from our own communities are saying and experiencing, and then act. Avoiding the realities portrayed in CROSSHAIRS will take an act of revolution, and Hernandez doesn’t just bring that revolution to life for us - it feels like she’s making a prediction for us.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an advance copy.
CROSSHAIRS floored me. Catherine Hernandez is a brilliant and powerful writer who brings this dystopian society to life. It follows Kay, a Black drag queen who’s on the run after the extremist faction of government in the lands currently known as Toronto and Canada have put their racist, discriminatory, fascist beliefs into law. Kay has been on the run for months, hiding out with his friend, Liv, who’s part of the Resistance. Kay eventually has to run again, after Liv informs him that Toronto isn’t safe, and he gets picked up by a white Resistance member named Beck. Along the way, we also meet Bahadur and countless other Brown, Black, and queer folks who have been on the run and are fighting back against this oppressive regime taking over taking over the world.
There are some hefty trigger warnings for this, but Hernandez is an important voice and tells these stories respectfully and with the fire that they deserve. She addresses labor issues, capitalism, imperialism, colonialism, the hatred of “Others” that we are all too familiar with in 2020. She brings up Indigenous identity alongside Black and queer characters, and the true intersectionality of this book is a work of art in and of itself. I suppose sometimes it’s a bit obvious that she’s trying to be intentionally inclusive and diverse, but to be honest I think that’s what it takes in literature. We need to be blatant and intentional with who’s getting portrayed in texts so we normalize inclusivity and intersectionality, so I not only understand why Hernandez does this, I think it works and illustrates her message perfectly.
Now, plot wise, I wouldn’t say there’s anything completely unexpected. The dystopian world Hernandez creates has workhouses (read: concentration camps), a segment of extremists who are limiting the rights and ending lives of “Others,” another segment of the population - comprised of Others and allies - who’s revolting against the oppression. It doesn’t necessarily have any characteristics we haven’t seen before in other dystopian novels, with the glaring and fundamental exception of the truly inclusive nature of this story and its characters. But the fact that this world doesn’t feel surprising is actually one of the most remarkable things about Hernandez’ skill as a writer: she has successfully extrapolated our current situations - human rights abuses, political power and greed of the wealthy and corporations, racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic policies and people - to dystopian Toronto, and it feels eerily close to what we could all imagine happening if we don’t do something.
CROSSHAIRS compels us to sit in whatever privilege we might have, listen to other voices, reflect on our role in perpetuating oppressive systems and what people not from our own communities are saying and experiencing, and then act. Avoiding the realities portrayed in CROSSHAIRS will take an act of revolution, and Hernandez doesn’t just bring that revolution to life for us - it feels like she’s making a prediction for us.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an advance copy.
June 14, 2021
(#gifted Atria Books)
CW: homophobia, anti-trans discrimination, racism, slurs, death, murder, gun death, lynching, pedophilia (explicit), sexual assault, rape (mentioned), forced labor
Crosshairs by Catherine Hernandez is a dystopian novel set in a future that doesn’t feel as far off as you’d imagine. The Canadian government is classifying citizens as “Others” and putting them in labor camps, dehumanizing, murdering and enslaving them. The communities most effected are BIPOC, disabled, and LGBTQ2S+. This book was in really excellent hands with Catherine Hernandez, who well honored her characters’ stories and the Indigenous people of the land. The story itself is pretty dark and full of trauma, but also includes some hope and light. It points to a problem that’s very real today, and a call to action that makes the reader reflect. Are we each doing enough?
This book will always be appropriate to read, but had me thinking a lot about what’s happening today. Particularly in the US with so many anti-trans bills being voted on across the country. It’s all absolutely disgusting, but there are things we can do to educate ourselves, email/call legislatures, donate, and just generally be good allies. A great resource to start is found at FreedomForAllAmericans.org, a legislative tracker for all the LGBTQIA related legislation from across the country.
CW: homophobia, anti-trans discrimination, racism, slurs, death, murder, gun death, lynching, pedophilia (explicit), sexual assault, rape (mentioned), forced labor
Crosshairs by Catherine Hernandez is a dystopian novel set in a future that doesn’t feel as far off as you’d imagine. The Canadian government is classifying citizens as “Others” and putting them in labor camps, dehumanizing, murdering and enslaving them. The communities most effected are BIPOC, disabled, and LGBTQ2S+. This book was in really excellent hands with Catherine Hernandez, who well honored her characters’ stories and the Indigenous people of the land. The story itself is pretty dark and full of trauma, but also includes some hope and light. It points to a problem that’s very real today, and a call to action that makes the reader reflect. Are we each doing enough?
This book will always be appropriate to read, but had me thinking a lot about what’s happening today. Particularly in the US with so many anti-trans bills being voted on across the country. It’s all absolutely disgusting, but there are things we can do to educate ourselves, email/call legislatures, donate, and just generally be good allies. A great resource to start is found at FreedomForAllAmericans.org, a legislative tracker for all the LGBTQIA related legislation from across the country.
September 3, 2020
"It was clear as day what we marched for. We marched because we deserved to live”
Trigger warnings:
Labor Camps
Genocide
Transphobia
Homophobia
Racial and LGBT+ slurs,
Sexual Assault,
Systemic Oppression by marginalized groups.....
Set in a terrifyingly dystopian near-future Canada (Toronto), with massive floods leading to rampant homelessness and devastation, a government-sanctioned regime called The Boots seizes on the opportunity to round up communities of color, the disabled, and the LGBTQ+ into labor camps.
Catherine Hernandez (the author of "Scarborough") weaves an unforgettable and timely dystopian raw tale about a near-future, where a queer Black performer and his allies join forces to rise up when an oppressive regime gathers those deemed “Other” into concentration camps.
This was a fierce read, uncomfortable at times for a reader but an important read considering some countries in regards to politics and the LGBTQIA community.
Loved the drag culture and depictions mentioned in the book, the resistance shown by the LGBTQ+ community, the allyship and flashbacks leading up to the revolution.
Mark your calendar for December 08 2020 and THANK YOU to @atriabooks for the gifted eARC.
Trigger warnings:
Labor Camps
Genocide
Transphobia
Homophobia
Racial and LGBT+ slurs,
Sexual Assault,
Systemic Oppression by marginalized groups.....
Set in a terrifyingly dystopian near-future Canada (Toronto), with massive floods leading to rampant homelessness and devastation, a government-sanctioned regime called The Boots seizes on the opportunity to round up communities of color, the disabled, and the LGBTQ+ into labor camps.
Catherine Hernandez (the author of "Scarborough") weaves an unforgettable and timely dystopian raw tale about a near-future, where a queer Black performer and his allies join forces to rise up when an oppressive regime gathers those deemed “Other” into concentration camps.
This was a fierce read, uncomfortable at times for a reader but an important read considering some countries in regards to politics and the LGBTQIA community.
Loved the drag culture and depictions mentioned in the book, the resistance shown by the LGBTQ+ community, the allyship and flashbacks leading up to the revolution.
Mark your calendar for December 08 2020 and THANK YOU to @atriabooks for the gifted eARC.
March 21, 2021
The plot was pretty unoriginal and pretty thin. There's a natural disaster allowing a terribly conservative government to grab power and then all of a sudden minorities can't use their bank cards anymore. I can only assume Hernandez loves The Handmaid's Tale very much.
Also I was troubled by the assumption that white people are somehow biologically burdened with evil and anyone else is not. Quote: 'It forced Bahadur and me into a place of ease, of witnessing, of relaxing while folks processed their allyship. It felt foreign to us to not have to bear this burden. Foreign and delicious.'
.
Also I was troubled by the assumption that white people are somehow biologically burdened with evil and anyone else is not. Quote: 'It forced Bahadur and me into a place of ease, of witnessing, of relaxing while folks processed their allyship. It felt foreign to us to not have to bear this burden. Foreign and delicious.'
.
February 18, 2021
2.9 stars .. this book read far too much like a YA novel not to be labelled as such, and yet the themes depicted might be too heavy for a YA audience. i found it extremely tasking to get through as it was very unsubtle, too descriptive where it didn’t need to be, and i didn’t like the writing style. with that being said it carries an important message and i think it is valuable to include diverse content and difficult subject matters into our literary diet .. i would personally rate it 1 star but i’m trying to be more objective about it since this is somebodies hard work. so there’s that.
December 14, 2020
As a dystopian fiction devotee, I found #Crosshairs to be well thought, brave tale of breaking social injustice in a fascist regime in future CANADA. At less than 300 pages, the author has given us a complete novel and she hasn’t censored any facts. She has speculated happenings based on REAL and CURRENT EVENTS, and its scary! The story will hit hard for BIPOC folx (folks), more specifically queer BIPOC folx. Folx are called as The Others in this biased future; they are marginalised, sent to concentration camps, taken advantage of, abused, and even executed just for existing. This story scared me and made me uncomfortable more than any horror/crime novel I have ever read. Why? Because, pain of the characters felt so real and these depicted happenings have a potential to become a painful future.
Race and privilege are the focal points in this story. The author emphasises on the fact that race is a visible identity, that cannot be unseen/changed, no matter what. Like a light at the end of the tunnel, this story also made me realise the power of willingness, friendship and love!
It is ok if you don’t understand my review. But please make time to read this book. I just wish this story will stay as a scary nightmare. EVERYONE DESERVES TO LIVE.
Thank you Netgalley & Atria books for the arc in exchange for an honest opinion.
Race and privilege are the focal points in this story. The author emphasises on the fact that race is a visible identity, that cannot be unseen/changed, no matter what. Like a light at the end of the tunnel, this story also made me realise the power of willingness, friendship and love!
It is ok if you don’t understand my review. But please make time to read this book. I just wish this story will stay as a scary nightmare. EVERYONE DESERVES TO LIVE.
Thank you Netgalley & Atria books for the arc in exchange for an honest opinion.
February 19, 2022
I wish this won’t happen in the real world. Is there a chance that this may happen?? I strongly doubt it in the hope of this terrifying dystopia won’t ever happen!
This is a slow burn book. Why “Others” had to be in the concentration camp? Why “Others” lost access to their own money? Why controlling side became so merciless all of a sudden??
It is not that extreme, but I cannot say no discrimination exists to the current world.
This is a slow burn book. Why “Others” had to be in the concentration camp? Why “Others” lost access to their own money? Why controlling side became so merciless all of a sudden??
It is not that extreme, but I cannot say no discrimination exists to the current world.
January 4, 2021
In a dystopian future, this book hits close to home with its Canadian setting and Atwoodesque military regime. It reminds us that complacency is not ok and shines a spotlight on human rights.
I once read something about WWII: that when the authorities started coming for different marginalized groups, this man didn’t fight to stop them. So that by the time the authorities came for him, there was no one left to fight for him and stop them.
Suspenseful and built a good base for the main characters, but also jumped around in time a lot to build history. Some of the undercover activities of the characters didn’t quite seem plausible, and there were some holes on how they got around things. Otherwise, well written.
I once read something about WWII: that when the authorities started coming for different marginalized groups, this man didn’t fight to stop them. So that by the time the authorities came for him, there was no one left to fight for him and stop them.
Suspenseful and built a good base for the main characters, but also jumped around in time a lot to build history. Some of the undercover activities of the characters didn’t quite seem plausible, and there were some holes on how they got around things. Otherwise, well written.
May 19, 2022
This is a difficult read but an important book. It delves into the importance of considering intersectionality for all activism and how to be a good ally. There is also commentary on how much work Canada needs to do to address the racism and homophobia in this country. I highly recommend this to everyone, with the warning that this is definitely not a light read.
February 3, 2021
I won this book from a Goodreads giveaway and would like to thank them for being given the chance to give my honest review of this book. This book is a scary dystopian future for Canada that could be our own countries future if we don't start dealing with racial equality and how we treat people of the LGBTQ community. This story is told through the voice of Kay, a person of color who is also a gay drag queen. She is telling this story to her partner Evan as a silent letter to him. She is on the run from a fascist regime known as the boots. Those at the bottom of this social stratification are called the "others ". Kay ends up joining a civilian led movement known as the resistance. I so loved this story and found myself crying my eyes out at certain parts. I would highly recommend this book to everyone of the human race.
April 12, 2022
I was really hoping to enjoy this one. I was surprised by how poetic the first chapter was. As the (audio)book went one, I was more and more disappointed. Plus, I live in Toronto. Who doesn't like a book about where they live?
The focus on intersectionality was something novel to read. The writing seemed poetic and flowy, though I'm starting to think that was just because it was the author reading the book, rather than the text itself.
My favourite aspect of the book was the exploration of oppression through individual experiences. The scenes with the church service and Kay's mother were great. If this book was a fiction story focusing on stories like that, I could give them a four-star. Take out all the dystopian bs and the badly written politics. Stick to the personal stories.
The rest was just not good. Half of the characters spoke like robotic pamphlets telling me about the goals of their organization. It felt worse than when a company tries to write something to appeal to a diverse audience but has no idea how humans actually speak. The characters felt flat and forgettable. Placing an international event on Canada Day seemed like a really lame and no-the-nose choice. The protests were written as if there were only 10 people present, performing badly written spoken word. The training montages were hilariously bad and unbelievable. The use of Toronto was also a bit weird. It was nice as someone that lived there, but I feel for non-Torontonians it would be a bit confusing. Most books shy away from being super specific about their locations, but Hernandez seemed to want everyone to know the main streets of DT Toronto and some very specific locations.
Any time Hernandez tried to write any politics, all believability jumped out the window. The reasons behind The Renovation were really stretching it. It was just "white people are racist and homophobic". Also, how did they move that amount of people and take over a government without SOMEONE filming? It made no sense. It felt like those horror movies where suddenly everyone loses cellphone service. The ending was also so anti-climactic. They confront the PM and the "I'm going to say my name" bs was just not for me. It was all fluff without substance.
Also, stop writing twins as if they are the same person. As a twin, it's getting really old.
I tried to get a refund and then remembered I had received a free copy from Audible. Still wish I could return.
If you want a really good review, a. a. d. wolfe wrote a perfect two-star review in December of 2020.
Not written for me. I ended up speeding through the last 10 chapters just to get to the end.
The focus on intersectionality was something novel to read. The writing seemed poetic and flowy, though I'm starting to think that was just because it was the author reading the book, rather than the text itself.
My favourite aspect of the book was the exploration of oppression through individual experiences. The scenes with the church service and Kay's mother were great. If this book was a fiction story focusing on stories like that, I could give them a four-star. Take out all the dystopian bs and the badly written politics. Stick to the personal stories.
The rest was just not good. Half of the characters spoke like robotic pamphlets telling me about the goals of their organization. It felt worse than when a company tries to write something to appeal to a diverse audience but has no idea how humans actually speak. The characters felt flat and forgettable. Placing an international event on Canada Day seemed like a really lame and no-the-nose choice. The protests were written as if there were only 10 people present, performing badly written spoken word. The training montages were hilariously bad and unbelievable. The use of Toronto was also a bit weird. It was nice as someone that lived there, but I feel for non-Torontonians it would be a bit confusing. Most books shy away from being super specific about their locations, but Hernandez seemed to want everyone to know the main streets of DT Toronto and some very specific locations.
Any time Hernandez tried to write any politics, all believability jumped out the window. The reasons behind The Renovation were really stretching it. It was just "white people are racist and homophobic". Also, how did they move that amount of people and take over a government without SOMEONE filming? It made no sense. It felt like those horror movies where suddenly everyone loses cellphone service. The ending was also so anti-climactic. They confront the PM and the "I'm going to say my name" bs was just not for me. It was all fluff without substance.
Also, stop writing twins as if they are the same person. As a twin, it's getting really old.
I tried to get a refund and then remembered I had received a free copy from Audible. Still wish I could return.
If you want a really good review, a. a. d. wolfe wrote a perfect two-star review in December of 2020.
Not written for me. I ended up speeding through the last 10 chapters just to get to the end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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