Books about writing books are like finding fresh Mary Sue tracks in the sand. There’s a fine line between “write what you know” and “write what everyone who likes books knows”. Christina Lauren’s Autoboyography bounds twenty kilometres over that line, and there was no way on this Earth I was going to pick it up and read it.
If you do not read this book, you are making a grave and unforgivable mistake.
Yes, it’s a book called Autoboyography, which is about writing a book called Autoboyography. But. It also manages to bring to a conclusion one of the most emotionally complicated dilemmas I have ever encountered. I remember being two thirds of the way through, seeing how few pages I had left and thinking: how on Earth are we going to get ourselves out of this mess in time?
Set in a high school in Utah, Autoboyography follows non-Mormon Tanner as he falls for the bishop’s son, Sebastian. Sebastian is religious, takes solace in prayer, loves his family, loves his Church, is excited about his mission… and Tanner’s crush could destroy all of it in an instant.
Unfortunately for them both, Tanner has been tasked with writing a novel in a semester, and Sebastian is the only thing that brings him inspiration. Turning in the novel for a grade would mean exposing them both.
Autoboyography explores the ways that romantic, familial and platonic love can both harm and heal, and how they can often do both at once. The tale Lauren weaves is utterly heart-wrenching, and as a reader I felt every impossible choice that Tanner was forced to make deep in my chest. Love can look a lot like madness, and often Tanner finds himself on the brink of wreaking untold chaos in the life of someone he supposedly cares about.
The one problem, however, with writing a book called Autoboyography about the writing of a book called Autoboyography, is that you wish the second book was the one you had in your hands. You wish this book was written by a gay man rather than two straight women. Unlike Simon Vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda, which treads respectfully, Christina Lauren left me feeling cheated. Which is a shame, because I personally enjoyed Autoboyography a lot more.
I firmly believe that LGBT characters and stories should not be off-limits to straight cis authors. However, I do think that more room needs to be made for LGBT storytellers. (On an unrelated aside, I will be launching The Heart-Seed in November.)
Let then this novel be a call to arms. Read Autoboyography. Use Tanner’s story to fuel your novel. Write, write, write.