Lit Femme to the Rescue (and Redistribution)

Warning: Extremely niche interests ahead

Hello, and welcome to Lit Femme, a newsletter about queer, lesbian and feminist books, music, art history and culture. You may be here because, like me, you have what others might consider extremely niche interests (see: the first sentence).

As a culture writer and a dyke, I have always had a vested interest in a very specific corner of the world, one that I don’t occupy alone and certainly did not invent. Most of the work I do and have done as a journalist is an attempt to make connections between the generations of feminists and queers that preceded me; the invisible community that surrounded me where I grew up in Michigan (a state with a very charged queer history) and, more broadly, the decades of individuals and collectives that did the work to allow for mine. I am indebted to these women and queers and so this newsletter is not only an ongoing love letter to them, but something I hope will continue to spread and share their labor.

Lit Femme is a weekly newsletter sharing conversations, images, and essays about rare, out-of-print and more general lesbian/queer/feminist literature that I rescue from thrift stores, purchase from estate sale purgatory or happen upon in some other magic way. It does feel like magic, finding these works in the world. Sometimes it’s the randomness and other times it’s undeniable kismet: a few months ago, I was at a Goodwill when I found someone’s entire women’s music record collection. I didn’t know how long it had been there, how many others may have passed over Phranc or Cris Williamson or Deirdre McCullough, but I could not believe my luck.

One thing I love about finding these books used is that the dedications or the notes from previous owners add something special — an added historical element that some, like me, might see as invaluable. Recently, I found a 2007 commemorative edition of Nancy Garden’s classic lesbian novel “Annie on My Mind.” The reissue itself is not as remarkable to me as the dedication inside: “To my favorite lesbian English teacher. Happy Birthday. Alison.”

(Shout out to my own lesbian English teacher, Miss Cotcher, as well as my trans Spanish teacher, Miss Wahlquist, who bravely came out in our small-town Michigan newspaper after retiring)

I also came across this copy of “Rubyfruit Jungle,” which had an incredible inscription from Rita Mae Brown herself: “Leslie, may you find your → RubyFruit Jungle.”

I already have a copy of the book, but I couldn’t pass up one with such a handwritten note, especially for someone named “Leslie.” This one, too, felt serendipitous, as “Rubyfruit Jungle” just turned 50 and I wrote about the book’s enduring legacy for the Los Angeles Review of Books.

As someone who grew up in a garage sale family, thrifting and finding stuff second-hand is, well, second nature, and the idea of keeping these tangible pieces of our culture all to myself (and my overflowing bookshelves) is antithetical to keeping our work alive and in rotation. So Lit Femme is a newsletter and an Etsy shop, where I’m selling some of these queer/feminist-related books, some of which I’ll feature in the newsletter with a more detailed history of its author, publisher and other related context. Here’s a hint about the first one, which will publish next week:

Comic by Rhonda Dickson from “What is this Thing Called Sex? Cartoons by Women” edited by Roz Warren

Should you share in these extremely niche interests, I’d be thrilled if you subscribed to the newsletter, which will include weekly features and listings as well as bonus content like podcasts, videos, playlists and other specialty content. My hope is that Lit Femme will be a chance to share the ephemera that excites me and to get you excited about it, too.

Lastly, a note about the header image: Behind the Lit Femme logo is artist Allyson Mitchell’s “Required Reading,” which is made up of wall-sized drawings of feminist and lesbian book spines that are frequently utilized in Mitchell’s work. (In 2015, she called it “a celebration, memorial and documentation of key writings, feminist presses, bookstores and libraries instrumental to [her] life and work, named after the Lesbian Herstory Archives in Brooklyn.”)

Required Reading by Allyson Mitchell

It’s almost impossible to see the entirety of “Required Reading” because of its scale (above is just one section), but I’m grateful to have Mitchell’s permission to use a small part of it for Lit Femme. I’m deeply indebted to Mitchell’s work and Deep Lez artist statement, which is very aligned with the way I reconcile and reflect my intersectional and trans-inclusive feminism with the multifaceted and at times problematic parts of the past.

Thank you for reading and happy pride.

Trish