Short version: because it features this shot in a fanservice beach episode.
Yes, Valmet/Sofia Valmer is really that muscular. All the time. Notice that she has the thigh muscles to match the rest of her. I’m not sure it’d be possible for her to have boobs of that size but okay whatever, she kickflips men who try to grope her boobs into the sky while declaring her boobs are only for her and her lesbian crush, it’s all good. I recommended the series to Christine Love. She likes it too!
(The fanservice episode also features a fuckton of steroidtastic dudechests. Including the sculpted abs of a twelve-year-old boy. Uh, ew.)
Trying to escape her embarrassing immigrant mother, Vimbai moves into a dilapidated house in the dunes… and discovers that one of her new roommates has a pocket universe instead of hair, there’s a psychic energy baby living in the telephone wires, and her dead Zimbabwean grandmother is doing dishes in the kitchen. When the house gets lost at sea and creatures of African urban legends all but take it over, Vimbai turns to horseshoe crabs in the ocean to ask for their help in getting home to New Jersey.
This isn’t a book, I suspect, that too many typical genre fans would like since it shades into magic realism. It’s orders of magnitude better than any other novel I’ve read by Sedia, and much superior to Heart of Iron. But it’s also a book where the author writes of a non-dominant culture and experience not her own, so standard precautions apply. See Tricia Sullivan’s post about writing Double Vision and her many, many, many fails with regards to writing black women and Japanese people.
Having said that, we can’t ignore the context of Sedia being from a non-dominant culture and Sullivan being very much so: there’s a vast gulf of experiences between a Russian immigrant to the US and a white American born and bred in the UK who never needs to apply for a visa to travel much of anywhere, and whose passport will never make her a subject of scrutiny.
The Sappho’s Fables series takes well-known, beloved fairy tales and retells them from a lesbian perspective. Volume One contains the first three novellas in the series: SEVEN (Snow White), BRAIDED (Rapunzel) and CRUMBS (Hansel and Gretel), compiled together in an enchanting omnibus edition.
I’ve previously reviewed and quite liked, despite its flaws, Sarah Diemer’s The Dark Wife, a lesbian retelling of the Persephone myth, so I was quite interested in trying out more of her (and her wife’s) writing. The novellas are available separately, but an omnibus is obviously more convenient and–well–cheaper, though I do think the individual novellas have much better covers.
Yes, it’s self-published. We can all deal. Sarah Diemer seems fairly successful at it, too.