Books

Tori Amos memoir ‘Resistance’ both profound and opaque

Singer/songwriter writes movingly of LGBT issues, family death while keeping the curtain closed on some aspects of her life and passions

Published

6 years ago

May 23, 2020

Joey DiGuglielmo

Tori Amos, gay news, Washington Blade — Singer/songwriter **Tori Amos** is unusually open about some aspects of her life while glaringly evasive about others in her new memoir ‘Resistance.’ (photo by Des Willie; courtesy Simon & Schuster)

‘Resistance: a Songwriter’s Story of Hope, Change and Courage’
By Tori Amos
Atria Books
Released May 5
272 pages
$26

A somewhat common — but far from universal — observation in Tori Amos fan circles is that her newer albums just aren’t as good as her definitive ‘90s masterpieces.

This isn’t unique to Amos. Some artists only have one or two good albums in them total (Alanis Morissette, Jewel) but keep issuing new albums that feel creatively spent. Some, like Lauryn Hill, don’t even bother to try. How many artists can keep a decade-long, white hot streak going indefinitely? And continue blowing the minds of fans who just get more jaded and less easy to impress as they, like the artist, age?

But even Amos herself has seemed curiously uninvested in later albums like “Native Invader” (2017) and “Unrepentant Geraladines” (2014). Her last tour was dubbed the “Native Invader Tour,” yet at her last area appearance in 2017, she played only two songs from the “Native Invader” album (and one was a bonus track at that!). That was typical of her shows that year. This is drastically reduced from her earlier practices. There are always a few standout tracks on each, but the overall impact has felt curiously clinical, musically bloodless. (If you want a super deep dive on this topic, Matthew Barton wrote a brilliant essay this week for The Quietus.)

What has become almost more interesting, though, is what she’s had to say, not sing. She’s always game to do a bounty of press — print and video/TV — with each new cycle (radio, of course, hasn’t played her for ages and never did much anyway) and the Amos we’ve gotten to know in these exchanges (a 2017 Vulture chat is especially good) is wise, illuminating, kooky and engaging.

Thankfully, a lot of that translates into her new memoir “Resistance: a Songwriter’s Story of Hope, Change and Courage,” out this month from Atria Books. It follows her 2005 memoir “Piece by Piece.” Its main thesis — that artists have a social responsibility to combat mercenary forces both political and systemic — is reasonably supported but far from what’s most interesting about it.

Although Amos has always had queer sensibility (she’s straight), what’s pleasantly surprising about the book is how much queer content it contains. In Amos’ mind, sexism — she argues convincingly it’s rampant in the music industry — and homophobia are twin sins and that’s linked her cozily with gay men since her early days playing at Mr. Henry’s a gay bar in Georgetown where Amos got her start at age 13, an experience the daughter of a United Methodist pastor describes in religious terms.

“Perhaps because it was gay men who took me under their wing when I was 13 and taught me how to survive — even at times through a large dose of reality, spelling out how a teenage girl in Washington could be manipulated — well, that’s its own song and those rivers run deep. Those fairy godfathers trying to teach me a drop of grace can go a long way, a lesson that my inner lioness needs reminding of a lot, but they gave and gave and gave and did not give up on me. Praise Jesus. So they led me, baptized in the barroom, to strength, to visibly blossom.”

She also writes of a 2014 concert she gave in Moscow on a stage at Crocus Arena where Putin was to appear the following day. Outraged by a 2013 “gay propaganda” law Putin had signed that made it illegal to tell LGBT Russian youth they were normal and give them reliable information on sexual orientation and gender identity, Amos tailored her set list to reflect her inner protest.

“The persecution of the LGBTQ community was — and is — real and terrifying,” she writes. “My set list in Moscow would speak loud and clear.”

Amos also writes briefly of a similar experience at at 2014 concert she gave in Istanbul.

Throughout the book, Amos-penned songs are shared that dovetail the various topics she covers. “Ophelia” closes a section about the confirmation of Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh in 2018 and “Cornflake Girl” is placed with a painful essay on female genital mutilation (it’s way more common in parts of the world than you’d guess).

Things lag a bit in a lengthy passage about the 1979-1981 Iran hostage crisis in which 52 Americans were held hostage for 444 days during a diplomatic standoff. Amos, still a D.C. piano bar regular at the time, writes of the change in the air when Reagan took office. Then Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill even joined her once at the piano to sing “Bye Bye Blackbird,” which she writes of fondly. Although always interesting to hear about, it at times feels like Amos is trying to play up her inside-the-Beltway locale to be of more import than it likely was. She writes of observing Hill movers and shakers conducting business over cocktails but how much could she really have overheard belting away at the ivories?

For me, the most gripping passages were the ones from Amos’ own life such as the initial rejection of her debut solo album “Little Earthquakes” by Atlantic Records in 1991, her experience being in New York City on 9-11 and her mom’s 2019 death following a debilitating stroke.

Other standout passages include fresh perspectives on Amos’ fraught relationship with Baltimore’s Peabody Conservatory (she was kicked out as a teen but invited back in 2019 to give a commencement address) and descriptions of her artistic process where she’s at times ethereal (she speaks often of the muses that bring her inspiration) and practical describing the often painstaking process of culling her musical noodlings and fragments into usable sonic wheat.

Her observations are at times profound. She writes of what she believes is the fallowness of the notion of artistic barrenness: “People who are addicted to power … can weaponize the thought of being creatively barren in order to debilitate the artist. They target artists specifically because they know that artists have the ability to reach the public in ways no one else can.” Ever worked with a narcissist? Those words ring true.

There are handfuls of “Gold Dust” (to use one of Amos’s songs) scattered piquantly throughout “Resistance.”

Despite the sometimes heavy topics, the essays are fairly short and tight. It feels like a nice, long visit with a trusted ally but she’s sharing not just off the top of her head, but on topics she’s in many cases spent a lifetime pondering — grief, honoring one’s instrument and inspiration, the price of selling out, how to stay in the game when the straight, white old boys’ club hold all the good cards and so on.

My quibbles are that I was hoping her husband and musical partner Mark Hawley — an artistic enigma who seems to not just enjoy but practically demand staying in the background — had emerged as a more fully formed figure. So little is known about him, yet so heavy has his influence been on Amos’s career, that he looms like a specter over the Amos universe.

It’s also highly odd that Amos mentions the death of her sole brother only in passing (were they simply not close? If so, why?) and that former boyfriend Eric Rosse is mentioned just once. He was the co-producer of her career-defining first two solo albums; their breakup, which Amos has never said much about, in part inspired her masterwork “Boys for Pele” (1996). They’ve been apart long enough now, surely she can assess his contributions to her formative works more unemotionally now, one presumes. So why does she barely acknowledge him?

And while Amos does write movingly of how mortifying the Y Kant Tori Read (her first band, which bombed with one 1988 album) era was, she’s frustratingly scant on details — did she feel musical kinship with her bandmates? How did they form? When did they officially disband? Did they provide any solace in the failure or accept any of the responsibility? Where are they now? And perhaps, more metaphysically, could there have ever been a “Little Earthquakes” if Y Kant Tori Read hadn’t happened? Amos blames herself for sinning against her art and her instrument and selling out but without sin there’s no redemption, artistic or otherwise.

That, perhaps, is what’s missing from Amos’ later work. Even with the usual struggles life eventually brings us all — the death of a parent most pronouncedly — Amos is almost too wise, too mature, too stable, too grounded to conjure up the woozy heat of earlier songs like “Bliss,” “Spark” or “Blood Roses.” It’s unfair, one must acknowledge, to expect her to maintain the kind of white-hot streak she had going ’til about “To Venus and Back” (1999). What would a 2020 Kurt Cobain album sound like had he lived?

Still it’s a bittersweet aftertaste “Resistance” leaves — as warmly as it goes down — that these are considerations a long-time fan can’t help but ponder.

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Books

Eliot Glazer’s new book an engaging collection of essays

From growing up gay to turning down ‘Queer Eye’

Published

1 day ago

October 4, 2026

Terri Schlichenmeyer

(Book cover image courtesy of Gallery Books)

“The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Gay: Essays”
By Eliot Glazer
c.2026, Gallery Books
$28.99/240 pages

You try and you try.

Once, twice, you go back at that thorny issue, the dream you have, the punchline that’s not hitting quite right. Sometimes, time is all you need to make it better, or a new approach, or a second look. And then there are days when you actually get things right, as in “The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Gay” by Eliot Glazer, and it’s all good.

Throughout his life, Eliot Glazer has made mistakes. And it’s OK, everybody trips and falls now and then. In his case, though, he’s perfectly willing to document his failures, foibles, and whoopsies in this book.

He writes of his mother, Sandi, “a Queens-born balabosta” who wouldn’t tolerate laziness in herself or Glazer. He found work as soon as he was legally able to do so, and he had many jobs throughout high school. He was a gardener, ice cream scooper, camp counselor, golf caddy, chocolatier, telemarketer, and video store clerk. The one that fit him best, however, was working at Talbots, a department store for older women, where he found his people.

Even with all those jobs, he was a theater kid in his time off, little though it was. Back then, he was just a boy growing up on Long Island but swagger was important, so swagger he did. He still appreciates a good Broadway show, even the silliest ones.

Glazer says that he had just recently come out when gayness exploded on TV with “Will & Grace” and “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy,” with which he was obsessed. It helped him feel not othered, he says. Producers of the reboot asked him to be a second-generation Eye, but Glazer turned them down, though he thinks he’d have been good at it.

The show helped him with love of décor. His unexpected advisory skills came naturally, through age and wisdom and learning that wild partying isn’t really so much fun.

As for finding love, well, that’s a long, boy-meets-boy-meets-boy story…

So you’re looking for something to easily pick up and put down, something that speaks to your inner impatience? You’ll find that in “The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Gay,” a book that’s practically meant for you to skip around and you don’t have to read everything.

Essays can be like that, which is nice, even refreshing. Author Eliot Glazer is entertaining enough to make things work, engaging enough to keep it moving, and funny enough to make you want more of what he has to say. He’s open with his life and, despite his fame, his writing isn’t lofty; you can expect stories that’ll make you snort and ones with spice, but also some surprisingly tender moments that soften this book in a way that’s just right.

Readers who want a quick, mostly light book to finish will find something appealing in this collection of essays. If you don’t mind a bit of non-linearity and you need a laugh, “The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Gay.” is worth a try.

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Books

Curl up with a good book this fall

New releases include mysteries, biographies, religion, and more

Published

2 weeks ago

September 20, 2026

Terri Schlichenmeyer

(Book cover image courtesy Amazon)

The fall books season offers lots of options so curl up and get ready to read.

FICTION

For the mystery fan who likes a sprinkle of thriller, look for “The Longest Death” by Kevin Jagernauth (Soho Crime, December). Richard Cobson hates his small town, he’s bored and desperate to get away. Stealing from his employer is the only thing that makes life bearable. That all changes when Marlon Montgomery comes to town and the two fall in love because if one guy can steal so easily, what can two do?

If you like graphic novels, try the “Tripping Over You” trilogy by Suzana Harcum and Owena White. Milo and Liam are finally able to be open about their relationship, no more hiding their love. They’re living together now, but can it last? “Tripping Over You Book 3” (First Second Books) is in stores in early November.

Also try “Diana: The Punk Singer Who Ripped Through Time” by Nate Powell (Abrams ComicArts, October). It’s about a young woman who’s trying desperately to escape her past, until a mysterious murder sidetracks her plans.

So you say you’re a romantic at heart? Then look for “Unspeakable Things: A Novel” by Elizabeth Hand (Little, Brown & Company, October). It’s a story set in the 1920s, when two young women arrive in the English Countryside to a dark and ancient manor. But, of course, nothing in a Gothic novel is easy, right? And you’ll love this tale.

NONFICTION

So this upcoming year is going to be one of exploration, right? Then look for “Free Love: Adventures in Marriage and Polyamory” by Michelle Tea (HarperOne, November). It’s a well-researched, personal, and interesting look at the lives of polyamorous couples and what it’s like to live what used to be called an “alternative” lifestyle.

If “fall” says “biography” to you, then look for “Showbiz! My Life as a Middle-Aged Man” by Murray Hill (Gallery Books, October). For decades, Hill has been making audiences laugh with his signature humor, but getting laughs hides his past all too well. He grew up in an abusive family and learning to hone his talents took some ingenuity. If you’re not a Hill fan yet, you will be, once you read this book.

For the reader who’s searching for a spiritual place, “Reading the Bible Through Queer Eyes: Good News for LGBTQ+ People from Genesis to Revelation” by podcasters Brian G. Murphy and Shannon T.L. Kearns (HarperOne, December) might help. Here, the authors look deeply at Scripture to find the queerness that’s there, proving to readers that the Word is not always what it seems.

Young readers may want to check out “Bitter Pill: Randy Shilts and the Dawn of the HIV/AIDS Epidemic” by Clement Xavier, illustrated by Heloise Cochois, foreword by Michael Lee (Abrams ComicArts, November). It’s a highly researched true story of activist Shilts, but also of Harvey Milk, and the earliest days of the AIDS crisis, when gay men needed a loud voice to advocate for them.

And finally, if you want a fun book for your kids or a child you love, look for “Good Night, Break a Leg: Life with Broadway Dads” by Bret Shuford, illustrated by Elena Hager (Penguin Workshop). What do parents do when they go to work? A little boy learns that his dads have very special jobs by day – and by night! It’s a cute book for kids, but a special tale for lovers of Broadway.

Be aware that publication dates change, titles change, books can be canceled, and your librarian or favorite bookseller can help you find what you need. Season’s readings!

Books

Dolly Parton biography puts her hardships into context

‘Ain’t Nobody’s Fool’ a highly researched tome not to be missed

Published

3 weeks ago

September 14, 2026

Terri Schlichenmeyer

(Book cover image courtesy of St. Martin's Press)

‘Ain’t Nobody’s Fool: The Life and Times of Dolly Parton’
By Martha Ackmann
c.2026, St. Martin’s Press
$30/304 pages

Not too bright.

That’s what people once thought about you. Your language didn’t conform, you had your own sense of style, and you were ignorant about modern things and places and foods. But you were no dummy. You were different, and you had a secret: as in the new biography, “Ain’t Nobody’s Fool: The Life and Times of Dolly Parton” by Martha Ackmann, you knew exactly where you were going.

When Avie Lee Owens and Lee Parton first married, they had the very basics: “two knives, two forks, two spoons, a skillet, a butcher knife, and an old iron kettle.” He was 17; she was 15. Babies came quick. The fourth one was named Dolly, after two great-aunts.

Almost from the time she could walk, Dolly sang. Before she was old enough to attend school, she wrote poetry, and she’d begun to notice rhythms and beats she could make with her fingers. As a schoolchild, she created her own musical instruments out of scraps, and she was eager to perform whenever anyone asked her – and they asked often, because Dolly Parton was a nice girl, and her sense of humor conveyed a warmth that drew people in.

Growing up in the Tennessee mountains, Parton was independent, shunning marriage and child-raising, instead focusing on a dream of being a star. By the time she was in high school, she’d had a regular gig on local television but she recognized that there were few opportunities for fame in the mountains, so she left for Nashville the day after high school graduation, with the snickers of naysayers ringing in her ears.

She stayed with an aunt and uncle there, and she beat the streets, dined on grocery store samples to get by, and missed her family and friends. And they worried about her, but they knew nothing would derail her plans. They knew Dolly would be fine.

As a friend said, “’She had her head on pretty good.’”

Chances are that if you’ve listened to music any time in the last 60 years, you’ve heard Dolly Parton through her words or her music or both. Now you need to learn more about her, and “Ain’t Nobody’s Fool” is where to do it.

Here’s a biography that grabs you on the first page with the tiniest bit of family tree, but not so much that you get bored with it. Author Martha Ackmann writes about Dolly Parton’s early life, putting hardships and experiences in context, both personally and historically. There are name-drops, but not overly so, as Ackmann takes you through Parton’s career, her heartbreaks, her marriage, and her years with Porter Wagoner, in detail but not dramatically embellished or outrageously told. It’s a biography that’s just right, sourced well and written with a fresh take that, like its subject, tells a good story.

Fans, of course, will want this highly researched book but music lovers of any age or type will eat it up. That means you, so use up that Christmas gift certificate. “Ain’t Nobody’s Fool” just shines.

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