Books
Trans memoirist measures time through dogs she’s owned
‘Good Boy’ is clever perspective on life by Jennifer Finney Boylan
‘Good Boy: My Life in Seven Dogs’
By Jennifer Finney Boylan
Celadon Books
$26.99
288 pages
If you’re allergic to love or if the smell of a playful puppy sets your teeth on edge, stay clear of this book.
Though infused with wry wit and astute cultural observations, “Good Boy: My Life in Seven Dogs,” the latest memoir by trans activist and writer Jennifer Finney Boylan, is jam-packed with the warmth of human and canine connections.
Proust had his “little madeleines.” Boylan, 61, recalls key moments in the life of herself and her family through the seven dogs she’s had in her lifetime.
Boylan, who was on the GLAAD board of directors from 2011-2018, is one of the most elegant writers you’d ever hope to read. She’s already written three memoirs. Her 2003 memoir “She’s Not There: A Life in Two Genders” was the first bestselling work by a transgender American. You’d think that writing “Good Boy,” a fourth memoir, would be overkill. And in lesser hands, it would be gilding the lily. But, this isn’t the case with Boylan, who’s a brilliant stylist and memoirist.
“My days have been numbered in dogs,” Boylan writes. “Even now, when I try to take the measure of the people I have been, I count the years by the dogs I owned in each season.”
Boylan, a Valley Forge, Pa., native, was assigned male at birth. She was named James, aka Jimmy. Boylan uses the pronoun “he” to refer to herself in youth. Jimmy wasn’t your typical boy. He was an “adorable nerd who’d spent his days sitting on the banks of a stream in Pennsylvania, fishing for brook trout,” Boylan recalls. He secretly played with his mother’s curlers. Jimmy went to college and graduate school (at Wesleyan University and Johns Hopkins University respectively) and fell in love with and married Deedie. They had two children.
In 2000, Boylan came out as a transwoman named Jennifer. Boylan and Deedie have now lived together longer as wife and wife longer than they lived as husband and wife.
Boylan’s never regretted coming out as trans or giving up the shame and secrecy of being closeted.
“But there were times when I remembered my younger self the way you’d remember a dear friend you’d lost,” she writes, “for reasons you no longer quite understood.”
“I wondered sometimes, what had become of him,” she writes. “Would it be necessary, in the days to come, to refer to him only in scare quotes?”
Musing on the dogs in her life helps Boylan to connect with this former version of herself. In the midst of the pandemic, nothing could be more fortunate for readers. I don’t mean to make light of the hard times Boylan and her family have lived through: from her coming out as trans at a time when few people even knew what being transgender meant to her father’s illness and death. Yet, the Boylan family dogs are some of the, by turns, funniest, most bad-ass, poignant creatures you’d ever want to meet.
When Boylan was a young boy, her family had a dalmatian named Playboy. He was, “a resentful hoodlum who loved no one except my father,” Boylan writes.
Matt, a mutt with an insatiable sex drive, was the family pooch when Boylan was at Wesleyan. Matt’s “disregard for the rule of law made it abundantly clear that he was determined, as they say in Ireland, to live a life given over totally to pleasure,” Boylan writes.
Lucy, a retriever/chow chow mash-up, was the dog who saw Boylan as she was first coming out as trans. She “was on duty the day I finally came down the stairs in heels,” Boylan recalls. “Ugh, she said, I wish the Lord would take me now.”
A lot of people, including the people she loved most, had the same reaction at first, Boylan remembers.
Though “Good Boy,” is structured around dogs, the people in Boylan’s life are equally important to her story. Her tale has some unexpected twists — from her elderly mother’s acceptance when she comes out as trans to a surprising revelation from one of her children.
If you’re looking for wry wit and hope in the midst of the pandemic, check our “Good Boy.”
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.
When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
Books
Risking it all for love during World War II
New book follows story of Black, gay expat in Paris
‘The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram’
By Ethelene Whitmire
c.2026, Viking
$30/308 pages
You couldn’t escape it.
When you fell in love, that was it: you were there for good. Leaving your amour’s side was unthinkable, turning away was impossible. You’d do anything for that person you loved – even, as in the new biography, “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram” by Ethelene Whitmire, you’d escape toward danger.
On Aug. 28, 1938, Reed Peggram boarded a ship from Hoboken, N.J., hoping to “become a proper gentleman” and fulfill his dreams. A prolific writer and Harvard scholar of comparative literature, he’d recently been awarded the Rosenwald Fellowship, which put him in the company of literary stars like Du Bois, Hurston, and Hughes.
Both Peggram’s mother and grandmother were then domestic workers, and they had big expectations for him. Reed himself was eager to study abroad, for professional and personal reasons; he was “determined to become a French professor and an accomplished linguist” and “He also hoped to find love.”
What better place to do it than in Paris?
Outgoing and confident, Peggram made friends easily and had no trouble moving “through the world of his white male peers.” Where he faltered was in his lack of funds. He relied on the kindness of his many friends – one of whom introduced Peggram to a “man who would become so pivotal in his life,” a Danish man named Arne.
Peggram and Arne had a lot in common, and they began to enmesh their lives and dreams of living in the United States. But there were complications: homosexuality was largely forbidden, World War II was in its early stages, and it quickly became apparent that it was dangerous to stay in Europe.
And yet, Peggram loved Arne. He refused to leave without him and so, while most visiting Black Americans fled the war in Europe, “Reed was trying to stay.”
There’s so much more to the story inside “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram,” so much to know about Reed himself. Problem is, it’s a long haul to get to the good stuff.
In her introduction, author Ethelene Whitmire explains how she came to this tale and yes, it needs telling but probably not with the staggering number of inconsequential details here. Peggram moved homes a lot, and many people were involved in keeping him in Europe. That alone can be overwhelming; add the fact that costs and other monetary issues are mentioned in what seems like nearly every page, and you may wonder if you’ll ever find the reason for the book’s subtitle.
It’s there, nearly halfway through the book, which is when the tale takes a tender, urgent turn — albeit one with determination, rashness, and a dash of faux nonchalance. Also, if you’re expecting an unhappily-ever-after because, after all, it’s a World War II tale, don’t assume anything.
Reading this book will take a certain amount of patience, so skip it if you don’t have that fortitude. If you’re OK with minuscule details and want a heart-pounder, though, “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram” might be a good escape.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
Books
Laverne Cox, Liza Minnelli among authors with new books
A tome for every taste this reading season
Spring is a great time to think about vacations, spring break, lunch on the patio, or an afternoon in the park. You’ll want to bring one (or all!) of these great new books.
So let’s start here: What are you up for? How about a great new novel?
If you’re a mystery fan, you’ll want to make reservations to visit “Disaster Gay Detective Agency” by Lev AC Rosen (Poisoned Pen Press, June 2). It’s a whodunit featuring a group of gay roommates, one of whom is a swoony romantic. Add a mysterious man who disappears and a murder, of course, and you’ve got the novel you need for the beach.
Don’t discount young adult books, if you want something light to read this spring. “What Happened to Those Girls” by Carlyn Greenwald (Sourcebooks Fire, June 30) is a thriller about mean girls and a camping trip that goes terribly, bloodily wrong. Meant for teens ages 14 and up, young adult books are breezier and lighter fare for the busy grown-up reader.
If you loved “Boyfriend Material” and “Husband Material,” you’ll be eager for the next installment from author Alexis Hall. “Father Material” (Sourcebooks Casablanca, June 2) takes Luc and Oliver to the next step. First was dating. Then was marriage. Is it time for the sound of pitter-patter on the kitchen floor?
Maybe something even lighter? Then how about a book of essays – like “The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Gay” bycomedian and writer Eliot Glazer (Gallery Books, Aug. 11). It’s a book of essays on being gay today, the irritations, the joys, and fitting in. Be aware that these essays may contain a bit of spice – but isn’t that what you want for your reading pleasure anyhow, hmmm?
But okay, let’s say you want something with a little more heft to it. How about a biography?
Look for “Transcendant” by Laverne Cox (Gallery Books, June 9), or “Kids, Wait Till You Hear This” by Liza Minnelli (Grand Central Publishing, March 10), and “Every Inch a Lady” by Audrey Smaltz with Alina Mitchell (Amistad, July 14). Keep your eyes open for “Without Prejudice: My Life as a Gay Judge” by Harvey Brownstone (ECW Press, May 26) or “The Double Dutch Fuss” by Phill Branch (Amistad, June 2).
Then again, maybe you want some history, or something different.
So here: look for “Queer Saints: A Radical Guide to Magic, Miracles, and Modern Intercession” by Antonio Pagliarulo (Weiser, June 1) for a little bit of faith-based gay. Music lovers will want “Mighty Real: A History of LGBTQ Music, 1969-2000” by Barry Walters (Viking, May 12). Activists will want “In the Arms of Mountains: A Memoir of Land, Love, and Queer Resistance in Red America” byformer Idaho state Sen. Cole Nicole LeFavour (Beacon Press, May 26).
And if these books aren’t enough, then be sure to check with your favorite bookseller or librarian. They’ll have exactly what you’re in the mood to read. They’ll find what you need for that patio, beach towel, or easy chair.
Wagons ho! High-class, head-turning haulers
Judge rescinds stay-away order in Capital Pride anti-stalking case
The latest Supreme Court case erasing LGBTQ identity
Calendar: April 17-23
Team DC’s annual gala set for this weekend
Court orders Pride flag to return to Stonewall
La X vuelve al tribunal
Lebanese LGBTQ group responds to latest war
Inside the LGBTQ records of Todd Blanche and Markwayne Mullin
