“Joaquín’s told me he doesn’t want to be my boyfriend anymore, but it’s kind of hard to tell based on the way he’s kissing me.”
If this fantastically twisty, messy first line appeals to you, the rest of the book will not disappoint (Blair, plz—spare some talent for the rest of us!).

I have never read anything quite like this. Our main character, Alec, loses his sense of self to a cruel media portrayal and goes on a journey of unravelling what the truth of him is, and what’s public perception. What are we supposed to do when representation goes awry? And is it so bad to be a villain after all, if we’re villainous for the right cause?

ANSS pays homage to the queer-coded villains I clung to in my teen years, at the same time providing a takedown of the social norms that have historically limited queer representation to villains. This book is a Black Mirror-esque examination of the ways in which 'inclusive' media continues to fail marginalised groups, packaged for a young adult audience.

An absolute inferno of a debut, so relevant to anyone who’s ever felt anxiety over how they’re perceived, on social media or otherwise.

Thank you so much to NetGalley and Page Street for the early copy of this book!

This was a really great story that hits the spot after reading a lot of romance stories. Alec desperately feels the need to separate himself from who he was on Campfire Wars, a teenage reality tv. He also really wants to get back together with one of his former costars, Joaquín. What starts out as an end of summer road trip for the two boys quickly morphs into a story of self realization and acceptance.

This is a beautifully written novel, with twists and turns you might not expect to be coming. Alec is so desperate to redeem himself and help out the animal rescue his parents run. All the while, Joaquín has an agenda of his own to fulfill. While the ending of the story isn’t what I was expecting when I started the journey of reading this book, it was exactly the right ending for the story.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher/author for this copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Okay, this story feels like a real romcom, but if you’re expecting a swoony romance, I’m going to disappoint you: it isn’t. A.M. Woody, who blurbed this book, calls their own stories romtraums, and maybe America’s Not-So Sweetheart isn’t a romcom, isn’t a romtraum, but a traumcom. Traum because Alec was painted as the villain on that reality show, and now everyone hates him. Everyone except Joaquín, his ex, the guy he’s still madly in love with.

Messy, witty, and at times chest-tightening, those are the words that come to mind when I think about this book.

The banter is just chef’s kiss. Not just between Alec and Joaquín or the other characters, but also in Alec’s own head. It’s actually a fantastic place to be—Alec, who wants to do good but is also a total disaster of a person, disheveled and morally gray in all the best ways, driven by a constant need for approval, and endlessly overlooking the red flags around him.

I fell hard for Alec’s longing and yearning in the first part of the story. From page one, I wanted him and Joaquín back together so badly. And yet, a little voice in the back of my head kept whispering warnings. I shoved them into a box and locked the lid tight. Just like Alec did.

The second half of the book gave me even more to think about. Again, just like Alec.

At its core, this story is about embracing who you are with all your flaws and building healthy relationships. And even though it’s not really a romcom, we need more books like these because this is what teens’ lives actually look like. Complicated. Messy. Full of love and fun, but also full of shi*tty things because sometimes, things just are tough.

I love queer books so much. I can never get enough of these books and will constantly come back for more.