The more I think about Lark & Kasim Start a Revolution, the deeper its impact on me. This is an intense reading experience, so much so that I think some folks who would really benefit from reading it might shy away. But I hope they don’t. At its heart, Lark & Kasim Start a Revolution is a raw, vulnerable love letter to its Black, trans and nonbinary, queer, poly, and neurodivergent cast, mapping out both the perils of modern teenagedom and cancel culture and offering a loving, compassionate alternative instead.

The premise of the novel’s conflict is straightforward to describe but plays out with branching complexity. Lark Winters wants to be a writer and curates a social media following, specifically on Twitter. But when their former best friend Kasim accidentally uses Lark’s account to post about an unrequited crush, Lark’s social media star rises—and along with it, the drove of unsolicited, reactionary commentary from strangers on the internet.

The thing I appreciate most about this novel is Lark themself. They are flawed, messy, and imperfect. The ways in which they are challenged by the accusations hurled at them at school and on Twitter is deeply believable. The novel strikes a great balance between showcasing the parts of Lark that they struggle to accept and showing their caring, compassionate, sensitive, and creative side too. Reading this novel truly feels like being inside their head, from the depth of their development to the neurodivergent narrative voice.

Another thing I admire about this book is that while it does not hesitate to dive into deep, difficult topics, none of those topics include depictions or discussions of transphobia. Lark is nonbinary without issue, Kasim is trans without issue, and other members of their friend group are nonbinary as well. In a landscape where it often seems like cis readers are looking for trans pain to be a central part of stories told by trans and nonbinary authors—whether for drama, conflict, or my least favourite, “realism”—the stark lack of trans pain was refreshing.

As someone who mostly observes secondhand the ways in which social media can be cannibalistic and morally absolute, the ways in which Lark’s Twitter fallout integrates with their real life was doubly painful to read. I think a lot of older teens might be able to relate to the ways in which social media complicates their day-to-day life, if not necessarily the specific vehicle or platform.

Finally, and perhaps above all, I love the way this story is about love—between Lark, their community, their friends, their family, and their creative spirit. For all the drama and heartache and very real issues of social justice brought up in the novel, there is an equal amount of joy and acceptance and forgiveness.

Lark & Kasim Start a Revolution is a vulnerable, tender, and heartfelt story. It is all the more endearing for the ways in which its characters are allowed to stumble, fall, and be picked back up again. In a world where self-love can feel like the greatest revolution of all, particularly for members of marginalized communities, it is a book I hope folks take a chance on, much like Lark and their loved ones take chances on each other.

Thank you to Amulet Books and NetGalley for an advance review copy. All opinions are my own.