“Endpapers” is such a beautiful book, a meditation on finding one’s true self in between secrets and shadows. One of those stories that sticks with you for a long time.

Artist Dawn Levit has a period of creative and personal paralysis while working a day job as a bookbinder, until she finds a secret letter hidden in an endpaper in an old book written just after WWII by a mysterious Gertrude to her secret love, Marta. As Dawn digs deeper into Gertrude’s story, she finds echoes of her own struggles with her identity and her inability to take agency in her own life; Gertrude, too, does not fit neatly into any gender box, and her love is forced into the shadows because it’s forbidden.

Dawn becomes obsessed, becoming even more untethered in her art and with her boyfriend, who is confused himself about his sexuality and what he wants at a time just after 9/11 rocked America with its political divisions. Finally, a book that tells the truth about 9/11, it wasn’t all united we stand and patriotism for all.

As a bi, genderqueer person myself, I related so much to Dawn’s struggles with finding where she belonged when there weren’t easy role models. Her boyfriend preferred her masculine side, her female crushes liked her feminine, androgyny didn’t fit right, and even she didn’t feel like a woman, but neither did she want to be a man, nor a butch lesbian, but felt like putting on feminine clothing was going in drag. Finally, a book that puts into words my own internal struggles. I always feel like I have to pick a side and stick with it when it comes to my gender and sexuality, and I’m not queer enough no matter what I pick.

I also related to Dawn’s impostor syndrome as an artist, her crisis of confidence in being emotionally honest to an audience when she couldn’t even be honest with herself.

I liked the ambiguous ending, too, how it was clear Dawn found her voice as an artist and came of age, but the process of finding oneself would be a lifelong journey.

A lovely, powerful book about what it means to belong to a community when you only fit in the spaces in between.