Shortly after Beatrice and Maxine Clark moved to Los Angeles at 19 and 18 respectively, Beatrice made her music debut as Blue Velour, inspired by a couch the sisters found on the street. As Dorn’s novel opens in 2019, the rebellious artist has just released her seventh album, Blue’s Beard, and is finally interviewed by the New York Times. The conversation hits its stride when the reporter accepts a cigarette and characterizes the album as “a shout out to your LGBTQ+ fan base.” The album’s title is indeed a reference to the subreddit BlueBeards, dedicated to proving that Blue and her producer, Sasha, are a couple. (Actually, Blue is bi—she has indeed had a long affair with Sasha, but when on tour seeks one-nighters with older men “who used bar soap for shampoo and had no idea who she was.”) When 19-year-old fangirl Rose Lutz applies for the job of personal assistant, she doesn’t mention that she’s the founder of this subreddit, and continues to keep it hidden as she assumes her new duties. Then the pandemic shuts everything down and Blue, Rose, and Sasha move to the redwood forest for a three-woman festival of songwriting and betrayal. The music writing in this book is outstanding, including intriguing real-world references and annotated playlists that will make you grateful for your streaming service. Dorn has a profound understanding of the relationship between an artist and her work: Blue “was in love with her music. Her audience. The celestial voice God had given her. And a different God from the punishing, intolerant God her mom loved so much. Blue’s God was benevolent and accepting and merciful and beautiful and probably a woman and definitely a Gemini.”
