Thank you to the author, publisher, and Netgalley for access to this book in exchange for an honest review. This was an engaging book for me. I loved the open window into the main characters' lives and their relatable, imperfect relationships. I thought this book's portrayal of the pain and heartbreak concerning the protagonist's gender identity struggle was very well done and that it was strongly rooted in the setting. The place and time of the book was a big selling point for me, as I do not often come across books set in the early 2000's New York that explore gender identity and a job in book conservation. The experience of reading this beautiful book is not one I think I will forget.

I absolutely loved this. I read it in just two sittings and didn't want to put it down. I'd recommend this to anyone who loved Detransition, Baby

Delighted to include this original story in the February edition of Novel Encounters, my regular column highlighting the month’s most anticipated fiction, for the Books section of Zoomer magazine. (see column and mini-review at link)

Endpapers by Jennifer Savran Kelley is a compelling tale of gender identity and sexuality set in post-9/11 NYC. The main character Dawn is at a relatable point in her life; post-grad, pre-career, and struggling to find herself. Past and present traumas leave Dawn feeling unsafe to explore her identity, and the fear of losing her relationship or her job leaves her stuck filling molds that don’t always fit, making her feel isolated. She ends up unearthing a queer love letter from the 50s on the back of a lesbian pulp book cover which sends her on a mission to find the letter’s author.

It was interesting to read this book as a trans person living 20 years past its setting. So much has changed and yet, so much remains the same. The book is firmly rooted in the reality of queerness in the early 2000s and doesn’t shy away from showing the ugly bits. I especially enjoyed the comparison to 1950s America brought by the hidden love letter.

Overall, Endpapers is a well-paced, entertaining story that asks the reader to consider the past and present of queer identity as the main character does the same.

Dawn Levit had long dreamed of being an artist. But in the years since she graduated college, she has not made much progress on her dream. She spends her days working as a bookbinder in the conservation department of the Met. Her relationship with her boyfriend, Lukas, also seems increasingly tenuous. Once day at work, Dawn finds a letter hidden in behind the endpaper of a book she is repairing. It appears to be a love letter from the 1950s, and, from what Dawn can tell, is between two women who feel they need to keep their feelings a secret. Dawn can't help but see parallels with her own life and her current experiences, and she sets off on a mission to find the author of the letter. Although her obsession seems to be alienating her boyfriend and her best friend, Dawn can't let it go, as it seems to be helping her break out of her artistic block and finally unlock some parts of her identity she has long been exploring.

With a powerful central character and a perceptive story, this book explores timely themes related to identity, what it means to be an artist, family, friendship, and history and pairs it with an interesting mystery.

Highly recommended!

Oh, this book. I've just finished it and am floating on a sort of meditative calm it's left me with. Not everything that happens in it is "good," in whatever sense of the word one means—but it's a remarkable novel of coming into one's own.

The central character, Dawn, born female, but in terms of identity non-binary, is an artist who works as a book restorer in the Met Museum in 2003—only two years after 9/11. They are so uncertain about how to be themselves that they continually attempt both to meet and to rebel against others' expectations. At roughly 24 years old, Dawn still doing a lot of navel gazing, but with good reason given the time, place, and body they're living in. When they discover a love letter written in German from one woman to another, and secreted beneath the endpaper of a book they're restoring, Dawn become obsessed with finding the the writer and the recipient of the letter and learning their stories.

This isn't one of those tidy, lost-letter-leads-to-everyone-singing-Kumbaya-at-the-wedding-reception sort of novels. It's a genuine-imperfect-people-who-simultaneously-question-themselves-and fumble-about-trying-to-make-the-right-choices sort of novel. One gets impatient with the characters at times, but one never loses affection for them.

Today, most people grasp the concept of non-binary, even if they don't "understand" it. Twenty years ago that wasn't the case. In 2003 "non-binary" hadn't yet entered the everyday lexicon—and how can they be themselves when there's no word for who they are?

This title is an absolute must-read: clear-eyed, compassionate, and making real an identity that is still relatively rare in the world of mainstream fiction.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.

Thank you to Algonquin Books for the eARC of this book!

Endpapers was a treat of a read. When I read the description, I was immediately interested. Anything having to do with art, and books, and queerness immediately grasps me. Then, when I read the first pages of the book, Jennifer Savran Kelly's writing also grasped me. This is one of those books that is mostly pushed forward by the main character and her inner thoughts and turmoil, and what can make or break these kinds of books is the main character itself. That was not an issue with Dawn. Her voice was so strong, and I have to say I quite enjoyed going along on her journey with her. She wasn't perfect and was frustrating at times, but it never put me off the story. It only made Dawn seem like a more fleshed out person. After all, no one is perfect.

I really enjoyed this! Highly recommend for anyone who likes literary fic injected with art and queerness. Absolutely wonderful!

Oh, I love this book. Just like Dawn, it's never just one thing. It's riveting, heartbreaking, and tender. It's historical fiction (set in the early 2000s) but feels modern and progressive. The characters are layered, and though Jennifer Savran Kelly refuses to tie most of their threads into neat little bows, the plot and resolutions feel satisfying all the same. This book feels like a love letter to queer people through the years, especially to genderqueer people. There are so few traditionally published books in the adult space that feature genderqueer protagonists, so I felt especially seen in Dawn's character. Although she doesn't always have the language for herself, she builds a world she can live in all the same by finding people who don't even need words to understand. I was profoundly moved by this story and its quiet, thoughtful exploration of kept secrets, unset letters, and the time it takes to heal from wounds of many magnitudes.

The further I get from my teenage years, the harder it is for me to remember the struggle to just be myself. (If I’m honest, I still worry that I’m too dorky or that I annoy people when I start sharing all the random knowledge I’ve acquired over the years as a reader and a librarian.) So it’s illuminating to read a book like Jennifer Savran Kelly’s moving novel, Endpapers, in which the protagonist constantly wrestles with their sense of self against their desire to be liked and loved by others. Even if that particular struggle doesn’t intrigue or appeal, I would still recommend this book to every reader because (speaking as a cis-gender woman) it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read about a non-binary person.

No one notices the emotional tightrope Dawn Levit walks. At home, Dawn eschews makeup and wears their* boyfriend’s clothes. At work, Dawn wears either shapeless clothing or skirts and dresses. They conform to whatever gender identity they think their company either wants or expects from them. It’s hard to fault them. When they were caught kissing their first girlfriend, Dawn’s father exploded with anger and violence. Since that traumatic experience, Dawn has always put others’ expectations ahead of their own comfort or preferences. It’s definitely not a comfortable life for them.

It’s hard to say how long Dawn might have continued that way—along with worries that their boyfriend might be bisexual or gay and that they might never succeed as an artist—if a curious thing hadn’t happened to them at work one day. In lieu of anything more artistic, Dawn works as a book repairer for an art museum. When they discover a book with water damage that needs a new set of endpapers and hinges, Dawn finds the cover of a lesbian pulp novel with a letter written in German on the back. The letter is written between two women but Dawn doesn’t discover what the text means until a friend translates for them. The letter’s contents and the ripped cover fascinate Dawn. Dawn is so fascinated, in fact, that they decide to track down the sender of the letter, a woman named Gertrude. I was impressed (really impressed and I do research for a living) at the way Dawn pieces together the few bits of information they have to find Gertrude.

Meeting Gertrude is a catalyst for Dawn. Seeing a woman who at least tried to embrace her identity as a lesbian (and possibly genderqueer or transgender) during the height of the Lavender Scare gives Dawn the courage to push back against all the expectations she perceives as surrounding her. A surprise commission to create the city they might wish for does the rest. Endpapers is a slow novel but it was enlightening to watch a character blossom from anxious and questioning to one with a firmer sense of self, who stops letting everyone around them influence them so much, who finally learns to be comfortable in their own skin. This is a deeply thoughtful novel.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC.

Dawn is confused about her gender and her current relationship. Her boyfriend Lukas only seems to like her when she presents more like a man. Her bookbinding job at the Met is sometimes her escape but even there her boss wants her to present to be more like a woman. When Dawn finds a letter from a woman in a book that seems to be as confused as she is, Dawn goes on a search to find out more about this woman, where she starts to learn more about herself in the process.

I enjoyed reading this book. It's different than any other book I've ever written. I thought the premise was interesting and I liked that the main character had a very different job as a bookbinder at the Met. I also learned a lot about book art.

Endpapers by Jennifer Safran Kelly is a reminder to us all that, despite how much progress we think we've made in society, things aren't all that different than they were twenty—or even sixty—years ago. Dawn Levit, our narrator, is a genderqueer (she/her) artist living in New York. She's trying to find where she fits, a glorious grey in a world of black and white.

She's not always likable. She doesn't always make the best decisions. She's real and raw and a character you can really sink your teeth into—Savran Kelly does an awesome job at giving this character the space and time she needs to grow into her own. Part of that is through her companionship with a dying elderly woman named Gertrude.

Gertrude is the heart of this novel, truly. As Dawn struggles, it's Gertrude who inadvertently shows her how far she's come. She is her muse in every sense of the word and their moments together are by far my favorite parts of the novel. My only complaint is that I wish there were more.

All in all, Endpapers is a solid read with characters who feel like people, not figments of the imagination. This truly is a character study—don't come in expecting a wild plot or you'll be bored to death—and that's exactly what it needs to be,

Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for an advanced copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review.

4 stars, for the moment. I may change that rating after I’ve had some time for this novel to sink into my bones a bit more, because I feel like there was so much to it that I haven’t fully sorted out internally.

I found the main character, Dawn, both endlessly frustrating and somehow endearing. Her friends were beautiful accompaniments, while feeling like full characters in their own rights. The writing was easy, at times stunning, and I flew through the pages. Dawn’s journey in regards to her gender sometimes felt almost like voyeurism, with its vulnerability, and the starkness with which her struggles were painted. I enjoyed it immensely, but I have a feeling this will be a polarizing read.

This was a very emotional and deep story that I won't forget. It is a story about figuring out and knowing who you are and acceptance. There is also a mystery regarding a hidden letter that is found in the endpapers of a book that leads the main character on a journey. The author did a wonderful job making you feel the pain and uncertainty that some of the characters experience.

Overall, this book was very captivating and I finished it quite quickly. I love the parallels between the 20th and 21st century challenges of being gender queer or non-binary. I think the author also did a great job with demonstrating the struggles and interior dialogue of the main character. My main point of feedback is that the context of New York City in 2003 with some references to Islamophobia didn’t seem to go anywhere. The non-white characters are also very under developed, and there is a much clearer focused on the issues of gender identity rather than Intersectionality. For example, the line about dawn needing to include black and brown artists in the project was flippant and didn’t go anywhere. Otherwise I think the development of Jewish and queer identity was done well.

This book did not jump out at me as something I would normally read. I was pleasantly surprised that at the core I found it extremely interesting and deep. I had trouble relating to some characters but I thought the whole concept of hoping to find someone like you and identifying with the struggles of someone else to be really powerful. Felt very saddened by the relationships within the book and felt that it didn't necessarily end the way I had hoped for the main character.

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC of this book. The writing in the first couple chapters felt hard to get into, and almost kept me from finishing this fantastic book! As a former librarian, I loved the book binding / restoration running plot, and I appreciated the wide range of queerness and queer experience represented. A great read for queers, book nerds, and especially queer book nerds.

ENDPAPERS is a rich and moving depiction of a woman trying to figure out her place in the world and to find people who will love her for who she is.

It's New York City, 2003. The main character is a genderqueer bookbinder at the Met Museum, where she does her best to present her feminine side; for her queer boyfriend, she feels she can only show her masculine side. One day, she find a torn off paperback cover hidden in the binding of an old book. The cover shows a woman, looking in the mirror and see a man in her reflection, and on the inside of the cover is a love letter from one woman to another. Seeing herself in the letter's author, she is seized with the determination to find her and understand who she was and what happened.

This was a terrific combination of sharp writing and short scenes that keep the book moving quickly. The relationships, in particular, are wonderfully drawn, showing all the insecurities one has about being accepted and the ups and downs they can have. As someone who lived in NYC in the early aughts, I particularly loved the description of the city - it was like riding a wave of nostalgia. Kelly manages to capture the little details about what I love about this place.

This was an excellent book. I definitely expect to see it on awards lists this year!

This book was thoroughly engrossing. It's more than an exploration of gender- it's Dawn's growth as a whole person. At the same time, it has a strong sense of place- NYC, only a few years after 9/11. Dawn references 9/11 frequently, as would make sense for that time. Her journey toward self-discovery while she pursues the mystery of Gertrude is one that will stay with me for a long time.

Endpapers is an engaging Bildungsroman novel that explores a variety of relationships and incorporates art, social justice, and bookbinding as central elements. Aside from appealing to me through bookbinding and historical research, I wanted to read this book because I hoped it would improve my understanding of a genderqueer experience.

There were points in which I struggled to like or empathize with the main character, Dawn, but for the most part I was rooting for her. The thing I found the most frustrating about Dawn was that at the same time that she was annoyed, irritated, or confused by herself, she might be mad at someone for not understanding her. Although I found that frustrating, it provided illuminating perspective.

The mystery Dawn discovered in the book was engaging and helped me keep turning pages. I became interested in the subject matter of the mystery to the point that I am
Interested in learning more about it.

I was curious as to what degree Kelly is an authority on genderqueerness—curious about background and personal experience. Kelly is a professional bookbinder. I listened to a podcast interview between Brenna Fitzgerald and Kelly in July of 2021, in which she shared that despite having had some experiences similar to those that her character Dawn navigates, she wasn’t sure if she had the authority to write a novel with a genderqueer character. Kelly stated that she was aware there was “genderqueerness about her” as she was growing up, but adds that when she began writing the book, she wasn’t yet familiar with the term “non-binary”. However, after having a few agents who didn’t work out, she eventually found a non-binary agent who was excited about the book, and successfully sold it.

At times I found the characters In Endpapers a little flat, but I believe Kelly has great potential for future novels. Endpapers has a graceful story arc.

Endpapers by Jennifer Savran Kelly is a stunning genderqueer book that follows one woman as she grapples with her gender identity.

Dawn Levit, an aspiring artist, works as a book conservationist at the Met in NYC. She feels as though she is at a standstill both career-wise and in her relationship with her boyfriend, Lukas. She’s envious of her peers who have already begun their art careers. On top of that, Dawn struggles with finding a balance between her gender identity and expression. Lukas keeps her at a distance and seems to prefer her masculine side. While at work, the thought of dressing more masculine terrifies Dawn, not knowing what her coworkers would think.

With all these thoughts churning in her mind, one day, when repairing a book, Dawn discovers a torn-off book cover from the ‘50’s inserted into the endpapers. The cover depicts a woman looking into a mirror and seeing a man in the reflection with a handwritten love letter on the back.

Dawn becomes obsessed with finding the author of this letter and believes it will help her work through her problems.

This a character-driven story with wholly believable characters. Dawn and Jae will surely capture readers’ hearts.

Endpapers is set in 2003 and discusses the lingering effects of 9/11. It also examines the homophobia and violence rampant in the 50s and still felt decades later.

I knew I would love this book right from the first page. The writing style was immediately engaging. It is literary but with none of the disconnect that I sometimes feel when reading this genre. Parts of it are incredibly sad, but there is hope and light in there, too.

Learning a bit about bookbinding and repair was a nice addition as well.

If you enjoy character-driven novels with vibrant settings, I recommend giving this book a try, it will not disappoint.

Thank you to Algonquin Books for providing me with an arc via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

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