Jessa Rowan

Always entertaining and authentic

Revisado: 01-25-23

Whether Leisha and Kate talk about their beloved pets, favorite snacks, or re-cap the OG L-word, they are always entertaining and authentic. There’s something so personable and relatable about their voices and friendship, that each time I listen to their rants or stories, I’m instantly drawn into their little sparkling queer circle. There’s nothing contrived nor altruistic about their expression; they are truly so relatable and hilarious in their dialogue. I need this short moment of laughter every week. Pants is truly a cultural gem for the LGBTQIA community!

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Mediocre and predictable

Revisado: 11-06-22

I love books supporting trans students coming out but this one was pretty predictable and just bland in its language. Also, the person who read the story had a voice that was very hard to listen to.

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Worst book I’ve ever listened to or read.

Revisado: 04-30-22

I really wanted to like this book. As a queer woman who came out in my early 30’s, I was hoping to relate to this story. With the high reviews, it surely would be an interesting listen/read. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even finish it. I only have an hour left, and that one hour wouldn’t have been worth devoting to such a terrible account of nothing less. Did I want to hear about the complexities of queerness? Yes. Did I instead hear about the authors inexperience with giving hand jobs (yikes), or stalking a One Direction band member? Sadly, yes. The author veered into random side comments and stories that had no worthiness, yet skipped all the moments that had potential for true storytelling. Did I want to hear about the actual unfolding of self discovery, and stories that showed growth and awareness? Yes. Instead, was I shown stories of the author spending money on clothes to make her look more gay? Unfortunately, yes. Perhaps it was the poor editing job, and for that, I’m sorry for the author. In the end, she’s just not that great of a writer. The casual language, the hip phrases and coolness diminished any weight or potential this book actually had. Finally, I wanted to land with a sense of admiration for the author’s story, or connect it with my own. Instead her self deprecating and wining tone made me start to detest her shallowness and privilege. Her reading of her own story was also a poor choice, unfortunately, as her voice was increasingly hard to listen to; I was mentally fatigued and in pain by hour 4.

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