Magic Season

December 1, 2021

Having achieved success in public relations, Rouse went on to win awards as a memoirist and accolades as best-selling author of the popular fiction he writes under his grandmother's name, Viola Shipman. But as a queer man, he had always had an uneasy relationship with his conservative, standoffish engineer father. Finally, as his father was dying, the two found reconciliation and comfort in their relationship, particularly in their shared love of baseball. With a 75,000-copy first printing.

Copyright 2021 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

April 1, 2022
A gay son and his judgmental father bond over baseball. "I was born in 1965, the unlikely product of an ultra-conservative father and an independent-thinking mother," writes Rouse. "If Dick Cheney had fathered a child with Cher, I would be the result." His mother, a nurse, was a lifelong Democrat; his father voted for Trump. His mother supported him when he came out; his father refused to talk to him for two years. His mother nurtured his dream of becoming a writer; his father derided him. Growing up queer in the Ozarks, Rouse felt unable to please his father, who wanted him to be a rugged man's man. Rouse, though, was a disappointment. "My father couldn't teach me baseball, I couldn't learn to play," but they did follow every game, spring through fall. "The gay kid and the Ozarks man listened, watched and attended thousands of Cardinals games together." The Cardinals' 2015 season forms the throughline for Rouse's frank memoir of his difficult, frustrating relationship with a man who "was always a bit of a mystery, the chemical engineer and logistical human who measured, calculated, weighed everything, even emotion." His father abused alcohol and later painkillers-- behavior that was unchallenged, like any other problem in the family's life. For too long, the author lied to his family and friends about being gay, and he recounts his struggle to own his identity and find love. After his mother died in 2009, Rouse saw his father decline physically and mentally, becoming dependent on caregivers, including his son, who still yearned for closeness. When he visited, they sat side by side watching their beloved team. True fans, he notes, "always believe that a miracle can happen, that a magical season will occur and obliterate all the bad memories that came before. A true fan believes in his heart that even a terrible team can turn into a great one." A poignant memoir of pain and hope.

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April 2, 2022

Parents and children often disagree, but occasionally that rift becomes an unsurpassable ravine. Rouse (It's All Relative) and his father found it hard to connect about anything and were driven apart by differences and an unwillingness to meet in the middle. Luckily, Rouse and his father Ted have one thing in common--a deep-seated love of the St. Louis Cardinals. Rouse's new memoir is a poignant and heartfelt story about a father and son reestablishing a connection. Their shared love of baseball provides them a vocabulary to reconnect at the end of Ted's life and provides the tools to rebuild their relationship. This memoir is equal parts heart-rending and humorous, and at all points filled with love. It is a story that's more than just about a conservative father and his gay son, it's about the power of family and shared experience. VERDICT Libraries looking to increase their LGBTQ+ memoir collections will not want to miss this worthy entry.--Ahliah Bratzler

Copyright 2022 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.