'One Last Stop' Before Adulthood

I firmly believe that no one is an adult until they turn 25. Sure, you might be legally considered an adult at 18, but there’s still so much that you can experience for the first time after that. For some of us, that’s college, a packaged and sold experience with its promise of fun, growth, and novelty. After graduation, the “real world” comes around as a not-so-polite smack across the face. And the firsts keep on keeping on: first apartment, first job, first mortgage, first love, and sometimes (first) marriage.

But wouldn’t it be nice to navigate this space with a relatable novel to serve as a guidebook in your back pocket? A book that strikes the delicate balance between harmless fun and impulsive childishness. A book for when you’re tired of the coming of age stories, but not quite ready to take out a mortgage.

That’s where New Adult steps in to fill the void. Not to be confused with Young Adult, the genre responsible for hormonal teens swooning over supernatural boys with commitment issues (as well as a notable portion of Tumblr’s user base, which popularized the use of the word “fandom”).

The New Adult genre caters to the Millenial and Gen Z cusp experience, detailing the usually awkward and therefore relatable lives of characters attending college or starting their independent adult lives. Protagonists in these novels are usually deeply flawed 18 to 25 year-olds trying to overcome or accept these shortcomings. As for the writing level, well...it’s not unlike brilliant escapist fanfiction that you wish was published into a full-length novel.

What makes New Adult novels fun to read is partially due to their contemporary nature. It is easy to empathize with characters who are the same age and are going through the same daily trials and tribulations of living in a Large City apartment (i.e. lack of heating, loud neighbors, and a sketchy landlord.) As someone who shares thin walls with my neighbors who are up in the middle of the night and have more than enough of my own apartment horror stories to share, these novels recognize these universal experiences. Sometimes these novels also include tasteful sex scenes, seeing as the authors don’t need to worry about writing awkward teenage sex into the plotline. Moreover, because this genre fills a niche, authors often keep a close eye on social media and generational trends, expressing them in humorous ways throughout their books.

The protagonists of children’s books are always other children — fearless preschoolers, emboldened elementary school kids, embarrassed middle schoolers, panicked high schoolers — and sometimes even talking animals. No one expects children to read about a father’s mid-life crisis. The protagonists in the books they read reflect their life stage. So why must young-ish people be forced to choose between reading about the “trivial” affairs of high school love triangles or the unhappily married? They shouldn’t.

New Adult is the perfect non-intimidating genre to explore the in-between. Whether you’re like me – deemed gifted-and-talented at the age of seven and consumed a book daily to barely getting through one book annually now – or you were never the one called a nerd, New Adult is the genre to pick up. Admittedly, it’s a decade after Borders closed its doors (RIP its stocky tan bookcases, American Girl magazines, and limited Webkinz collection) and Barnes & Noble lost its relevance that everyone thinks that reading is cool and “indie.”

One fair warning, as you’re navigating the breadth of the New Adult genre: it can be daunting to conduct an online search and be confronted with many covers of shirtless men. This lack of modesty seems to be a borrowed quality from romance and erotica novels marketed toward older women that have somehow become a staple in supermarket book aisles.

That is where my grievances begin with New Adult. As much as the genre begins to bridge the gap between young adult and adult fiction, a majority of the body of work is centered around white heterosexual couples, which further propagates compulsory heteronormativity a.k.a. comphet.

Yet, there is hope. Even though an overwhelming number of titles feature steamy washboard abs, the most read and popular books tend to have illustrated and PG covers. In fact, Casey McQuinston has written and published two books that sit on the New York Times Bestsellers list.

If her name sounds familiar to you, it’s probably because you’ve either read or heard of Red, White, and Royal Blue, which drew a lot of attention with its massive commercial success. However, I urge you to read her latest release, One Last Stop.

While RWRB was an instant hit, it still broadly falls into the category of a love story between two white cisgender gay men. (Although, Alex one-half of the main couple, is a biracial and bisexual male.) That representation continues to largely overshadow the needs of the underrepresented members of the LGBTQIA+ community, especially that of queer women of color. GLAAD’S 2020 Studio Responsibility Index, released earlier this summer reported that out of the 44 films created by Hollywood’s major studios, none of them included trans or non-binary characters that were apparent on the screen. The presence of LGBTQ+ women of color, trans, and non-binary folks exist in the community, but the overt lack of content and support for such stems from deep-rooted systemic sexism and racism. Sapphic content deserves the same amount of vigorous excitement and recognition as content featuring MLM (male loving male) relationships. So I challenge you to give One Last Stop the same chance at success as Red, White, and Royal Blue.

One Last Stop tackles the struggles of queer relationships and adulting and features the New York City subway, drag queens, and a crew of culturally diverse characters. It follows the life of August Landry, a grizzled detective-like 23-year-old, as she moves to New York City to complete her college degree. One Last Stop hinges on fantastical elements and a riveting mystery that unfolds as the audience follows August’s sleuth work to find out why gorgeous Jane “Subway Girl” Su is displaced in time.

The novel, in its 17 chapters, breathes life into its endearing cast of misfits who become a found family (in Bushwick, no less!). It feels instantly familiar for many queer individuals who can find bits of themselves and their friends in August’s roommates.

In an interview with We Need Diverse Books, McQuinston said,

“Really, I just wanted this book to reflect what life is like for most queer people, especially queer folks who live in big cities. I’ve consumed and loved a lot of fiction where there’s one queer character in a group of straight friends, but I’ve never found that to be accurate to real queer life. In real life, queer people gravitate toward each other, and we feel safest and most at home when we’re surrounded by people who are like us. Some straight people seem to think it’s statistically unrealistic to see more than one queer person in a story, but it’s actually way more likely for there to be one token straight person in a group of queer friends (see: Jerry the cook) than the other way around.”

Sure, none of the characters are perfect; they were all created with their own flaws, but they are overwhelmingly full of love. (Sidenote: these characters are also kind of horny. But the book is never written from the perspective of the male gaze.)

One Last Stop quickly became one of my favorite books because of how well McQuinston integrates her research on queer and Chinese-American history into fiction. As a Chinese-American myself whose family speaks Cantonese, it was refreshing to see allusions to Lunar New Year, family values, regional food, and words specific to the dialect on the published pages.

The novel also showcases how an Asian character can be a romantic partner to the main character and not a passing love interest. Although having a queer Asian protagonist would be even better and I would welcome one with open arms, McQuinston writes to her truth; August is a white cis, bi woman.

TLDR; One Last Stop is the book for you if you’re a cynic with trust issues, a New Yorker, yearning for a hot girlfriend, missing your amazing friends this summer, or simply looking for a new book to read. (We’ll never know which of these reasons it is, so go pick it up!)

If that doesn’t call to you, some of my other New Adult recommendations include:

Red, White, and Royal Blue also by Casey McQuinston
Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang

By Ivy Fan

Playlist maker, houseplant collector, coffee drinker, and poet exploring the intersectionality of identity.