This book is hard for me to review because so much of it was so personally relatable for me. I thought Heaney did an excellent job of describing the ups and downs that come from confusing feelings about men, and the subsequent realization that the cause might just be an attraction to women. Just as her first book, Never Have I Ever, can serve as a comforting reminder that you are not alone for girls who aren't big daters, this can also do the same for late-in-life queer women. The book has a few flaws; it could do with one more pass of editing for clarity in places. But I look forward to recommending it to many women at various stages of life.

I’ll begin by saying that I have read two of Katie Heaney’s previous books, and that I was the tiniest bit weary before beginning this one. Her first memoir, Never Have I Ever, was a DNF for me (at about 75%). I found it a little shallow and juvenile, like an overlong Thought Catalog article. I later read Dear Emma, which was fine but not all that memorable (and probably more enjoyable for college-aged readers than for those of us closer in age to Heaney herself). But shortly after that book came out, I heard Heaney on Death, Sex & Money describing her realization that she was not romantically or sexually interested in men, and thought, “now that’s a book I want to read.” Well, here that book is! And I’m glad that I was right—this was definitely a book I wanted to read.

Like many other recent memoirs, Would You Rather? reads as more of a memoir-in-essays than a traditional memoir. There is a definite chronological narrative thread, but several chapters—including “Harry and Me,” a funny if slightly bloated essay about Harry Styles—are notable departures from the central through-line. As with most story and essay collections, not every piece will land with every reader. This is fine, but it might be something to know before picking up this book. So, with that in mind:

Would You Rather? is a delight. The writing here is thoughtful, and conveys a a good deal of maturity and self-awareness. The self-deprecating humor is charming, and the introspective passages land much better than those in her previous memoir. Heaney writes particularly well about her own growth—in friendships, relationships, self-discovery, and political consciousness. The last is particularly significant since this is a book completed and published after the 2016 election. (The current political landscape in the U.S. does play an understated, powerful role in this book.) One chapter includes timely, firm criticism of white feminism, which Heaney explores through a discussion of her college coursework and activism. Heaney’s willingness to own up to her flaws, her mistakes (both personal and political), and her privilege is a recurring theme in the latter half of the book, helping to elevate the lighthearted memoir into something a touch more serious. Still a quick, funny read, for sure, but with an emotional weight that some books of this genre lack.

Thank you to NetGalley and Ballantine for providing me with an ARC!