In case you haven’t noticed, our country is pretty divided these days. When my husband got home a few weeks ago, he turned on the radio and tuned into the impeachment hearings. I honestly can’t believe what is going down right now! The radio was still on while I was cleaning up dinner, and I took out my anger on the pots and pans. There was some pretty violent scrubbing going down.

Both sides–liberal and conservative–are spewing hate at what feels like an unprecedented level, and the media is eating it up. It’s disgusting to watch, quite frankly. With the hearings and scandals and twitter wars, it has been nice to escape into a fictional America, not just once but twice this fall–into an America that *could* be.

American Royals, by Katherine Mcgee, presents an American monarchy, stretching all the way back to King George Washington himself, asking the question, what would have happened if we’d given Washington a crown instead of a constitution?

The story centers on America’s two princesses, Beatrice and Samantha–one groomed to rule, careful and measured, the other rebellious and free. Their lives were decided for them based on nothing but their birth order–but what happens if they take their lives into their own hands? Or will the demands of duty win in the end? (They have a brother, the prince, but let’s face it–the stories almost always focus on the princesses.)

The first in a series, American Royals leaves a lot of questions unanswered, but I have high hopes for the sequel.

(I will admit that I felt a lot of anxiety while listening to the audiobook of this one, but then I realized that I’d forgotten to take my anxiety medication for about a week, so it was probably that instead.)

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston is the book I didn’t know I needed, but I’m so glad I found it. My friend Emily (an old high school friend who I’ve reconnected with over a shared love of all things bookish) sent me her copy, and when it came in the mail I couldn’t stop smiling. It’s the kind of America I want to live in–an America that is united, strong, and more tolerant of others and their opinions. Of course not everything is perfect, but it presents an America that is at least trying to be better.

When Alex Clairmont-Diaz’s mother becomes president, the handsome, charismatic first son becomes the media’s darling. But an altercation with the “spare heir” of England, Prince Henry, creates quite a stir, and so the two young men are forced to shake hands and fake a friendship for the sake of, well, the world. Politics, appearances, and all that. But their friendship soon becomes more real than they ever could have anticipated.

During his mother’s reelection campaign, Alex has to face the question: is America really ready for a first son to fall in love with a prince?

Red, White, and Royal Blue is quite the debut novel. I don’t think I’d ever read a LGBTQ+ romance before (well, except The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue, and The Song of Achilles…so wait, maybe I totally have), but anyway, I loved how honestly McQuiston addresses what makes us all human, what’s at the heart of us all. We all want to find love, acceptance, and belonging. We’re all a little bit broken, and we’re just looking for someone who can love us as we are, but also help fill in our gaps.

I really appreciate how more and more authors are fighting for representation and diversity in all areas of publishing–contemporary fiction, memoirs, YA, romance, etc. By reading books written by people who aren’t just like us, we can walk in someone else’s shoes for awhile, gain a different perspective, and maybe learn a little something about ourselves in the process.

We actually talked about this at our last book club meeting. The ideal goal is that we should strive for diversity by interacting with people of different races and orientations and origins–but we are, practically, limited in this endeavor by the people we actually know, the people we interact with. Some communities are simply more homogeneous than others. If that’s your situation–in my case, my day-to-day interactions tend to be with middle class white women like myself, usually moms, often stay-at-home moms–books provide a way to interact and learn from people who are essentially “not us.” Then, when we do meet and befriend and work with or go to church with people who don’t look like us or act like us or think like us, we already have a jumping off point, and hopefully we’re better equipped to be allies.*

Whether those “other” voices belong to people of color, members of the LBGTQ+ community, immigrants, or another marginalized group, they deserve to be heard, and their humanity deserves to be acknowledged.

There is value to be found in every human heart; every story is important. Let’s focus on what unites us, rather than what divides us, and maybe we’ll look back on this era of division and hatred and say with Alex and Henry, “History, huh?”

<climbs down off of soapbox and binge-watches Game of Thrones because it’s less depressing than CNN>

*I would be remiss if I did not add that platforms like Instagram and Twitter have also done a fantastic job of allowing #ownvoices to be heard, and providing a forum for learning and advocating for those in the margins.