Greedy: Notes from a Bisexual Who Wants Too Much
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4.6 • 17 Ratings
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- $8.99
Publisher Description
Named one of the Best Books of 2021 by Oprah Daily, Glamour, Shondaland, BuzzFeed, and more!
A hilarious and whip-smart collection of essays, offering an intimate look at bisexuality, gender, and, of course, sex. Perfect for fans of Lindy West, Samantha Irby, and Rebecca Solnit—and anyone who wants, and deserves, to be seen.
If Jen Winston knows one thing for sure, it’s that she’s bisexual. Or wait—maybe she isn’t? Actually, she definitely is. Unless…she’s not?
Jen’s provocative, laugh-out-loud debut takes us inside her journey of self-discovery, leading us through stories of a childhood “girl crush,” an onerous quest to have a threesome, and an enduring fear of being bad at sex. Greedy follows Jen’s attempts to make sense of herself as she explores the role of the male gaze, what it means to be “queer enough,” and how to overcome bi stereotypes when you’re the posterchild for all of them: greedy, slutty, and constantly confused.
With her clever voice and clear-eyed insight, Jen draws on personal experiences with sexism and biphobia to understand how we all can and must do better. She sheds light on the reasons women, queer people, and other marginalized groups tend to make ourselves smaller, provoking the question: What would happen if we suddenly stopped?
Greedy shows us that being bisexual is about so much more than who you’re sleeping with—it’s about finding stability in a state of flux and defining yourself on your own terms. This book inspires us to rethink the world as we know it, reminding us that Greedy was a superpower all along.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In this sparkling debut, Winston dives headlong into a life of confusion and second-guessing her queer desire, only to realize that "maybe confusion is as queer as it gets." As someone who grew up in the cornfields of Indiana in the early aughts, she struggled to find "sexually fluid role models" to help her understand her bisexuality. In a series of essays, Winston viscerally describes the sense of being unmoored without language to describe herself and the difficult path to finding it, all with a breezy irreverence that will enamor her to fans of millennial essayists like Samantha Irby and Jia Tolentino. One of her greatest strengths is in pivoting from acerbic wit to earnest reflection, as she does in a standout essay about the social construction of ugliness and masturbating on AIM—aptly titled "True Life: I Masturbate Wrong"—and in another about the importance of setting boundaries. Winston's regular use of content warnings and Twitter handles may put off some readers, but those whose lives have been similarly shaped by social media will appreciate the roles these signifiers play in this story of searching for love by a writer to watch. In playfully queering the coming-of-age story, Winston has written something wholly original, and entirely delightful.
