Quick Take

Compound Fracture by Andrew Joseph White is an extremely hard read that should be required reading. I simply cannot sum it up for you more than to just say – read it.

Tell Me More

Ooof, you guys. I had said a while back that this book played a huge part in saving my life, and that has only intensified since I have officially changed my pronouns to They/He and have opened up about being trans masculine during a very scary time in our world.

Compound Fracture is bloody, gritty, and horrific in every sense of the word. But the scares here aren’t classic. While there is a paranormal aspect, it is about how the worst monsters are human, and those who SHOULD protect us are so often violent beyond measure. The book is set in White’s native West Virginia, and sheds light on Appalachian and mining culture, oxycontin addiction, lack of proper healthcare, police brutality, generational trauma, and the dangers of being queer and/or having a disability, or in any way being “othered,” in these rural areas.


The book follows Miles, a trans, autistic teen from a bloodline that has long been targeted by the sheriff and his family. Miles is attacked by the sheriff’s son and his friends, to the point of near death and permanent disfigurement, and after the assault, sets off on a mission to get bloody revenge on his attackers with his best friend, Cooper – following an accident that occurs with one of the boys. However, things unravel drastically, and the events lead to an atrocious climax that left me sobbing.

If you have followed me for any length of time, you are probably aware of my dislike for animal cruelty in horror. But in this case, it was necessary to portray the extent of evil of some of the characters. White did not include any unnecessary violence, he just shed light on these very real atrocities in such a brilliant and delicate (while still gruesome) way.

However, one character – my absolute favorite – is named Dallas and they are nonbinary, have permanent burn scars, and present masculine. I LOVED how White highlighted how nonbinary folx DO NOT owe anyone androgyny, and we are all valid however we present, which is something I often struggle with. He also highlighted aromanticism apart from asexuality, and how both orientations are entirely separate from each other despite being seen as one and the same most times.

White’s writing is a beacon of hope for trans/queer and neurodivergent readers such as myself, and while his books are young adult, they go SO HARD. If I had had his books as a teen it might not have taken me until I was 30 years old to come out as trans/queer and acknowledge my autistic traits to get help and understand myself. Instead, I always felt like something was wrong with me and internalized it (this book was an essential tool in helping me see myself in Miles’ experience with autism). Even so, it appears that this book came into my life exactly when it was supposed to do so.


White stated in his author letter that this story burns like moonshine going down, but to me, it felt more like a railroad spike shoved down the throat. While the ending is hopeful, the excruciating pain of that spike remains.

If you read nothing else this year, or any year, read this book. And that is something I have never said about any book. It is that important.