HOW WE FIGHT FOR OUR LIVES is Jones' memoir about coming of age as a black gay man in the South. Told through vignettes that follow his travels from home in Texas, to college, and elsewhere, it examines his life against the backdrop of phobias and -isms that run rampant in America.

This book is 200 pages worth of a punch to the chest. Each story knocked the air out of me, even as someone who has read plenty of wrenching memoirs. It's Jones' exploration of his experience and the world's experience of his marginalized body, and how he turns his body into a weapon to be used against the world and against himself.

Threaded through this journey is Jones' relationships with his mother and grandmother. I think the complicated, intensely loving relationships of half-truths he lives with both these women will feel so very familiar to many queer readers.

In lyrical language, Saeed Jones chronicles his coming-of-age as a black, gay youth in Texas in the 1990s. The only child of a single mother, he knew that, despite his mother’s fierce love for him, his sexuality was a topic they couldn’t discuss. That might have been preferable to his grandmother’s approach. When he visited her in Memphis, she complained he was too worldly and forced him to the front of her church so the preacher could pray over him. That left the library, where the books about gay men always ended in AIDS. He already knew the dangers of being black; now he knew the consequences of being gay as well. Still, he was determined to live his truth, even if that meant distancing himself from those closest to him.

What that truth was, though, often remained unclear as Jones felt cultural, peer, and familial pressures to adopt other identities. As he progressed through school, then college, he switched between selves, at times putting himself at psychic risk and at times at physical risk. Yet, there is a sense that he required these experiences, a type of trial and error of behavior, to arrive at a place of peace.

Jones writes of these experiences with rawness and vulnerability, and at times I was incensed on his behalf, worried and angry that he put himself at such risk, saddened by his grief, and delighted by his good fortune. These reactions testify to his ability to convey his very self in his narrative, an act that takes not only skill but bravery. On one level, How We Fight for Our Lives is worth reading because of Jones’s story and how beautifully he conveys it. Yet, his memoir goes beyond his own experiences, echoing with themes of race and sexuality, questioning the strictures placed on those who don’t fit into the dominant paradigm and showing how damaging that can be.

A must-read for anyone interested in LGBT books or who enjoys reading spectacularly crafted memoirs and non-fiction.

I had a face of shock while reading this book. Saaed Jones did not hold back writing about his experiences as a gay black man. When I was not in shock, I was immersed in feelings of sadness reading about being called slurs, not being accepted by close family members, and his mother's death. A good and quick read. Check it out if you are a black gay male or have recently experienced the loss of your mom.

The most powerful part of this short memoir is the moment in which Saeed’s grandmother forces young Saeed to be “saved“ by having a minster invoke pain and misery upon his non-present Buddhist mother. The grandmother sacrifices her own daughter for the salvation/conversion of her grandchild. For the rest of the book I prayed that Saeed’s mother would not come to misfortune or ill health.

This, ultimately, is the narrative arc of this book: A boy comes into his own on the abandoned, exhausted, ravaged body of his mother. Lots of what goes on in between is a necessary coming-of-age. The price all children pay for their adulthood is the betrayal of their parents.

This is the biggest emotional toll the book requires of the reader: this awareness we all have that growing up to be autonomous beings required betraying the vital bond with our mothers and fathers.

Saeed negotiates this betrayal by savaging his body. He trashes himself by giving himself away to serial casual lovers some of whom are overtly racist.

There is a lot of self-hatred inside the hearts of this gay black man in America. Jones describes his battle with self-hatred with great emotional honesty.

Yet he survives, and thrives, and we hope he is well.

How We Fight For Our Lives is a slim memoir by the poet Saeed Jones. The prose alone is worth reading. This memoir is about Jones as a African American man coming out in the South and all it’s implications.

More than a coming out story this is a very beautiful story of the relationship he has with his single mother. There were multiple times that Jones captured that relationship with such care and tenderness that I sighed.

This memoir is just plain good. If you just love reading about people, which I do, then this book is just perfect. I personally love getting a glimpse of other people’s lives and this definitely hit that spot.

Thank you NetGalley and Simon and Schuster for an Advanced Reader’s Copy in exchange for an honest review.

Beautiful, gripping, if sometimes graphic, coming of age memoir about growing into your sexuality, coming out, and the capacity for forgiveness and grace in family relationships. Jones' writing is urgent and raw when he writes about his vivid memories of being young, black, and gay in the south. Unlike anything I've read in a while.

This book may not be easy to read, but it's real and important. The writing is beautiful and I can't wait to see more from Jones.

I loved this book. From the first chapters, I was haunted. Jones examines his upbringing as a black, gay boy in Texas and how it affected the way he explored his sexuality as he grew into the man he is today. At the heart of the story, though, is his relationship with his mother, how they went through life as a sort of dynamic duo before his sexual orientation threatened to tear them apart. Their relationship is so moving and the ultimate display of how those we love and who love us shape who we become.

The sex scenes are quite graphic, but Jones definitely put his all into being as honest as possible. It isn't so much about the sex itself, but a reflection on what drove his behavior and how it impacted his psyche. Rather than these scenes being fodder for shock value, they are often the most haunting, the most emotionally raw. These scenes are at the core of how Saeed Jones became such a fiercely intellectual, affective person.

The language Jones uses is conversational, yet incredibly poetic (his poetry collection PRELUDE TO BRUISE is equally shattering and shimmering). I found myself wanting to highlight sentences and paragraphs constantly because of the way they struck my soul with compassion and understanding. His description of casual racism and the way it infiltrates our culture and becomes internalized by those it's aimed towards was gut-wrenching at times. How Jones has been able to turn it into a tool for his writing to such magnificent effect, I will never understand.

This book needs to become required reading. Blending heartbreak, triumph, love, and identity is often done, but not often as well. It is even rarer to find a memoir that accomplishes and encompasses so much with such deft ability.

Thank you to Simon & Schuster and Net Galley for this ARC, out 10/8!

How We Fight For Our Lives was one of the best memoirs I've read this year, and in a lot of ways is unlike any memoir I've read before. It is so effortlessly beautiful and painful that I couldn't put it down, but had to intermittently so that I could process everything I was reading. It is so easy to breeze through this book because Jones' writing flows so well, but there are so many moments that are so relatable or just plain heavy that require re-reading or just sitting with the words and letting them sink in. This memoir was on par with and reminded me of Heavy in a lot of ways (writing to/about their mothers), but also is completely different. I really loved the way that these stories were told in vignettes with times and places attached to them, so you could visual what was happening even more. I was sad for it to be over, and wish that this had been longer so that I could keep learning and getting lost in Jones' world. I'm so thankful that I was able to read this early. thankful to Jones for telling his story, and truly think it is one of the best memoirs put out this year.

I'm trying to conjure words to describe this INCREDIBLE book... all I want to say is READ IT over and over as my review. Is that a review?
READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT....
That's my review.

This memoir recounts the coming of age of an African American youth in the 1990s. The writer, Jones, has an evangelical grandmother who rejects his sexuality, his being, and a Buddist mother who loves him but at the same time has trouble communicating with him. His memoir covers adolescence into graduate school; these are years of self-discovery, intellectual development, and sexual experimentation as he recognizes his homosexuality and wonders if others will understand him. Jones's ecstatic discovery of pleasure is juxtaposed with occasional violent and humiliating encounters.

How We Fight for Our Lives is emotionally resonant and a searing personal interrogation. Some readers will see themselves in the stories of Jones' burgeoning eroticism and eventual self-acceptance.

Read at your own risk and I mean that in a good way.

In Saeed Jones’ memoir, How We Fight for Our Lives, Jones shares his struggles and provides a narrative of on his journey to self-destructive, all while trying to find his place in the world. This story is raw uncensored & unapologetic. I’m not kidding prepare yourself for what you are about to read, Jones doesn’t hold back.

Throughout the book, Jones describes the various relationships and people in his life from his mother and sexual partners. I think my jaw dropped at least 50 times. He endured so much mentally & physically but conquered even more. I can’t praise this book enough. It’s an absolute must read.

Thanks to Simon & Schuster and NetGalley for gifting me a copy of this book.

You probably know Saeed from BuzzFeed’s AM/DM show, or his poetry (which I am now going to have to find, bc I didn’t know about the poetry.) This is about him growing up and realizing he was a black gay boy in the south, his relationship with his mother (and also to some degree his grandmother). He writes gorgeously and in some cases, heartbreakingly. This is an ARC, and is due out in October; I highly recommend picking it up when it does.

I was ready to give 5 stars to this book right in the beginning. It is no joke: Saeed's book grabbed my attention and kept me hocked during my entire reading. Raw, painful and beautiful, I feel honored to live in a time where an author like him works on writing such an important memoir.

Thanks NetGalley and Simon Schuster for this incredible ARC.

Many thanks to Simon & Schuster and NetGalley for an ARC of this book. What a beautiful memoir from Saeed Jones. Coming of age, coming out, relationships with family, a son and his single mother. Racism, homophobia - external and internal. Without giving away any real spoilers, I must say it was genius of him to use his sex scenes to talk about the horror of racism. And throughout the book his Mom shines through which makes me miss my own Mom. What a brave young man to share his experiences with us. Very real.

A question I start off with when leading a book discussion group is "What struck you about this book?"

For this book, I have to answer...it's raw. Saeed, in his memoir, lays his heart open to the public. He doesn't hold back.

From the Polaroid at the start to Barcelona, his story, his life has taught me more about the power of empathy. He has laid his heart bare to the world, and it provided me with food for thought in how a black boy can be afraid of the world around him. (Add quote later...the last sentence from chapter 3.)

Saeed shows his turmoil and provides narrative on behaviors that I would term as self-destructive, as he tries to find his place in the world. He quotes Reginald Shepherd "My aim is to rescue some portion of the drowned and drowning, including always myself." This quote resonates with the author and, I feel, with the place of this memoir.

The Ferocity does describe Saeed well. He lives his life, despite the fears he may have or the drops of acidic words that have come his way.

Saeed's mother... She worked hard to provide and protect her child. She is dearly missed and the love radiates from this memoir. Since her story is so intertwined with this, I don't want to say more, other than I recommend the book.

I do, highly, recommend the book. It caused me discomfort, as I am a polar opposite to this gentleman. However, the life he presents provided an impetus for me to reflect and empathize with him.

I can't provide any quotes at this time, as I was granted the ability to review from an advanced reader's copy courtesy of the publisher. Since it was listed as an uncorrected proof, I will comply with the request to not quote until verified with the finished book.

How We Fight For Our Lives is a memoir of Saeed Jones, and is a coming-of-age story about growing up as a black gay man in Texas. It is poignant and raw, and left me crying at the end of it. It’s evident that Jones is a poet as the way he writes is unique in the best way. Its written as a tribute to his mother, and sheds light on how our families can be both the easiest and hardest things in our lives. He captures his humanity in a way I’ve never seen before, and I finished the book wanting more from him. The vignettes he writes spanning his childhood to his adulthood highlights some of the most wonderful and some of the most heartbreaking moments of his life. His lyrical prose and clear insight on life left me breathless.

This book knocked the wind out of me. It is a beautiful memoir encompassing the consequences of a prejudiced society. It also deals with emotions and fears that most of us are too afraid to let out. It was raw and heartbreaking.

I honestly don't know what to say about this beautifully written, moving memoir. Saeed Jones shares memories of his childhood and formative years that made my heart just hurt for him. From his earliest memory of being called a "fag" to his feelings of shame and perceived rejection from his grandmother he is brutally honest about his fear and anger in his life. His realization in high school that "being black can get you killed. Being gay can get you killed. Being a black gay boy is a death wish," just made me want to weep for our country and any young people in it that are still struggling with their identity.

It brings me great pain and joy to know Saeed Jones’ How We Fight For Our Lives will be set upon us all. Pain for the collective loss and sorrow gay black boys have suffered, and joy in knowing that it is stories like these that will set us free.

It’s been a month since I read Saeed Jones’ How We Fight For Our Lives, and I fumbled so long to put words to its visceral glamour. When I first heard of its arrival over the winter, I needed it immediately. To imagine the amount of blood, sweat, and tears Saeed must’ve sacrificed to saturate these pages is beyond me. What emerges from that offering is a story of a gay boy coming into the blackness of his body, its starkest desires and demands, and an anthem of unsung single black mothers who must raise their boys to be their own saviors before it’s too late.

Front to back, no other book has echoed so much of my own experience as a gay black boy like this. It took no effort at all to read Saeed’s story with an empathetic heart because I have been living this story in real time. There were so many instances I caught myself saying, “I know what that feels like too” and “Yes. Yes, that was me! That’s STILL me!”

"You never forget your first 'faggot.' Because the memory, in its way, makes you. It becomes a spine for the body of anxieties and insecurities that will follow, something to hang all that meat on. Before you were just scrawny; now you're scrawny because you're a faggot. Before you were just bookish; now you're bookish because you're a faggot.

Soon, bullies won't even have to say the word. Nor will friends, as they start to sit at different lunch tables without explanation. There will already be a voice in your head whispering 'faggot' for them."

I was pricked with my first N-word assault by another white boy whose vestige still haunts me in the faces of white men wanting to be friends, lovers, or bringers of harm. I watched my mother’s smile dissolve in the face of financial and spiritual uncertainty, and the tenacity with which she raged at every whisper of my sexuality and my little brother’s autism. I, too, have submitted to the dehumanizing fetishes of white men that can drive a vulnerable black boy to hate himself and others like him. I know the sting of falling for straight men capable of nothing more than breaking our hearts if not our whole being. And above all, I still tussle with the prodigious fear of a lonely, loveless life because of who I was born to be.