Crosshairs

Crosshairs follows the story of Kay, a black drag queen, and his allies in their journey to fight back against an oppressive regime who has been capturing and rounding up "Others" (pretty much anyone who isn't white, cis, and straight-passing) into concentration camps.

I honestly could not have started reading this book in a more opportune time. In the midst of a global pandemic and race rebellion, many of the ideas presented in the book are incredibly relevant. While technically Crosshairs is a "dystopian novel", the current situation in the U.S. made it way too believable. From the physical and systemic exclusion of Others, to the response by the government during an environmental disaster (which disproportionately affects black and brown people), Crosshairs was a chilling and topical read throughout. I will say that had it not been for the current political/social climate in the U.S., I might have struggled to really "believe" the plot -- but, it's a dystopian novel! so it's not meant to be entirely "believable".

The cast was relatively small, and each character was well-thought out and nuanced in their thoughts and actions. Hernandez excellently portrayed the diversity of the cast, using careful, intentional language that was accessible and educational. Hernandez explained topics of privilege, systemic racism, and queerness, in a way that was easy to read and perfectly fit within the context of a dystopian novel.

I cannot say enough good things about this book! Would highly recommend this to anyone who loves drag queens, dystopian novels, and taking down fascist regimes! Thank you to NetGalley and Atria Books for providing me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

On the surface, this book hit all my marks: stunning cover, striking premise, and scarily-prescient themes. I was thrilled to be approved for this title.

Following massive Canadian floods, a government-sanctioned regime called The Boots sparks "The Renovation," a horrifying time where The Others (LGBTQ+, disabled, and communities of color) are rounded up and forced into labor camps. Kay, a former drag queen, joins the resistance, and in a gripping narrative, writes a letter to her lost love as he trains for revolution.

I don't even know where to begin with this book; there are so many things I want to say.

First, Hernandez's writing style is beautiful. Her prose is lyrical and flows and often reads like spoken word poetry without even trying. Her structure of dual timelines, both past (told through flashbacks) and present, juxtaposed against each other drew out the symbolism of each moment, creating raw, powerful emotion that poured from every word. This is my first Hernandez read, but I was smitten with the writing and finished this in two sittings.

Issues-driven, character-driven, and plot-driven, Kay is a magnificent narrator with insightful command of memories and his journey to self-discovery. Liv, Bahadur, Beck, and Firuzeh are also wonderful, and I appreciated Hernandez giving space for each character to tell his/her/their own story. It's not a coincidence that there is room for every voice; even with a revolution, even with the horrors, everyone deserves to be heard, and Hernandez weaves these voices with bold honesty and stark truths.

This book is more than just beautifully-written words, though. So much more. Crosshairs could've been ripped from the headlines (apparently I keep picking books that reflect the current society instead of escapist lit). From labeling and discrimination to the terrifying realization that the events Kay describes seem not only real but possible, I wanted to scream by the end. Its warning is grim, dire, and enlightening. There will be disturbing imagery, anecdotes that are hard to read yet impossible to ignore. From the notes in the beginning, Hernandez says for some, this book will be uncomfortable, and I had that in mind as I reflected on the characters' interactions in relation to current events. Performative justice is a topic that stands out, especially given the prevalence of social media. How people who are not The Others can pick and choose when and what trivial act to post, receive praise for their good deeds, but when push comes to shove and their comforts are threatened, they turn their backs. If anything, this book will make you acutely aware of shortcomings and biases and that is such an important freaking awareness to have right now. We want to be allies, to have allies, but we also need to teach people how to be allies, and that's more than just a motivational quote during Black History Month or a black square Instagram day of silence.

Overall, Crosshairs is a lyrical, urgent, beautiful story of pain, injustice, and hope. This is the type of text everyone should read.

Big thanks to Atria and NetGalley for providing an eARC in exchange for honest review consideration.

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.

Crosshairs is set in dystopian Toronto, Canada. The LGBTQ2S and Black community are experiencing racial injustices that are too heartbreaking to be true. Hernandez’s novel is classified as a dystopian and much of the racial violence, protests, and police are far from “imagined” and eerily mirrors our present day political climate.

The read was beautiful, comforting, and unique. I enjoyed Bahadur, Firuzeh, Liv, and Kay. Hernandez did a fabulous job creating characters that will stick with me forever.

Although the ending was short, I didn’t feel rushed through it at all and I closed feeling powerful and inspired.
Things I Loved:
• Kay’s coming out journey and how that relates to his racial identity as a half black, half Filipino man.
• The struggles, strength, and resilience behind how Kay navigated the harsh Toronto streets with no help from family.
• The power behind the “Others” coming together to protect their own human rights.
• The progression of the story and how Hernandez vividly flashes back to experiences prior to the success of “The Renovation”

I'm literally scrambling to read her previous work and I'm excited for anything else she will release in the future. So talented!