99 ERICS

Serano satirically tackles gender norms, linguistics, hipsters, and more as her fictional character writes a book about dating 99 different people—all named Eric.

Kat Cataclysm is an absurdist short story writer and self-identified “weirdo”—an out bisexual, nonmonogamous “ethical slut” with an interest in baseball, linguistics, and delicious India pale ales. She’s also fictional, a not quite nom de guerre (but still a warrior!) of author Serano, and has a long-held desire to be a novelist despite her self-confessed title of “queen of conflict avoidance,” an unfortunate trait when most novels thrive on conflict. So instead, she commits to a “faux novel” about her “her supposed experiences dating 99 different people named Eric” as she seeks to subvert other conventions of fiction as well, vowing to never overcome adversity or grow as a person along the way. Kat uses these Erics as opportunities to draw out poignant points about gentrification, internalized homophobia, bisexual stereotypes, and the disposability of the gig economy while also obsessing over penis-chewing banana slugs or dealing with the fallout of an internet listicle on the common cold she authored literally going viral. When she sics a roomful of zombified children on a tiresome screenwriter, it’s clear she’s aware of her role as omniscient narrator. Serano has written about gender identity and feminism in her nonfiction books Whipping Girl(2007) and Excluded(2013); she explores many of the same ideas in her debut work of fiction. The writing is conversational in style, and though Kat claims to be uninterested in banal descriptions, the scene-setting in various California locales works well. Kat recalls the Manic Pixie Dream Girls so often used in male-oriented stories, but she’s decidedly more warts and all in her presentation, almost too quirky to function, and enthusiastic about her role as ruler of all the Erics. The result is a lovable composite of Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (1966) and a less murder-y version of Marvel’s Deadpool, using absurdism and humor to break down the fourth wall and the very idea of “normal,” with all its silly little boxes and prejudices. If that makes the book sound serious, it isn’t—and that might be the most effective way it makes its readers think about identity.

Knocks down literary conventions, sexual stereotypes, the fourth wall, and more in enthusiastic defense of the weird.