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I’m familiar with Raven Oak as a speculative fiction writer—I’ve read Amaskan’s Blood and several of their short stories, all of them imaginative and expertly put together—but I didn’t know what to expect from their memoir Voices Carry. Only a few pages in, though, and I was like “Oh, right. Oak knows how to tell a darn good story, and this is going to be good.�� Although “good�� seems like not quite the right word, because as an unusually talented person who also happens to be neurodivergent, queer, and disabled—and who spent the first chapters of their life in Texas—Oak has been on a wild ride.

With a combination of vulnerability, forcefulness, and wit, Oak covers their complicated childhood, their career as a public school teacher in Texas, their ongoing battle with layered medical issues, and their journey of self-discovery as a person and a writer. A lot of this is heavy stuff. But somehow, I also laughed aloud several times? This isn’t a “fun�� read, and yet it’s still propulsive reading. The propulsive quality comes, on one level, from the writing itself—it’s tight, and interesting, and it toggles between highly specific, visceral moments, to philosophy, then back again. I was also fascinated to read Oak’s insider view of what the heck is going on in “red state�� classrooms, and the jaw-dropping bigotry and fat-phobia of the medical establishment. Voices Carry is a brave and engaging read. Highly recommended.