Has everyone’s favorite gothic lesbian author lost her mojo?
Once upon a time, I wrote a writer’s love letter to Sarah Waters. It was terribly overwrought. “You have rewritten the past with me in it,” I gushed. Perhaps that wasn’t quite true; after all, I wouldn’t last an hour as a rent boy in London in 1890. But Tipping the Velvet and Fingersmith were queer answers to the books I