After Hours at Dooryard Books

“Outside these doors is chaos. Appalling men are elected president. Every day's headlines are worse than the last. All year, it's been like that, and it isn't getting better. But it will. Meanwhile, there are donuts and a pot of coffee and work to be done: maybe not enough to tip the scales but there anyway.” Every time I read a book by Cat Sebastian, I think to myself: This is my favorite! It can’t get any better. And then it does. Every time. Back in 2012, John Green wrote in The Fault in our Stars: “I fell in love the way you fall asleep. Slowly and then all at once.” This is exactly how it felt to read After Hours at Dooryard Books. It’s quiet. Not in a boring way, not at all. Just gentle and calm. Melancholic in a way. It’s the story of two men, one running away from his past and another who has never really run away from anything. (Not even cops, not really, which is a problem in New York in the 1960s). It’s a slow-burn romance that focuses so much on the characters that the author makes their relationship a byproduct. But she does it in such an intricate way that them falling in love starts to feel inevitable at some point. The book itself is very political, and the Vietnam War and the political upheaval that came with it are vital parts of the story. It’s about the small, seemingly unimportant ways people fight back. By refusing to hide who they are, by helping people and giving them second chances or simply by providing literature that goes against the status quo. Or, in bigger ways, refusing to be quiet about the injustice they’ve uncovered even though it will probably destroy their entire life and make them a paranoid mess. The message of the book is hope, at least in my opinion. There were so many parallels to today's political landscape that were undoubtedly written on purpose. It shows that yes, things might be bad now, but they used to be too, and it got better. And it will get better again.