Lou’s Review: One Last Stop, by Casey McQuiston

As a reader, I make a conscious effort not to just gravitate towards the most visible lesbian & bi stories – while the sapphic book community is wonderful in countless ways that have changed my life for the better, it’s really frustrating when traditionally published novels by a handful of popular white authors get more attention than pretty much every sapphic romance released by a woman of colour, small press, and indie author put together. Which is why – despite the tsunami of love Casey McQuiston’s writing has unleashed – it has taken me three years to read One Last Stop.

After a childhood spent helping try to unravel the mystery of her missing uncle, feeling more like a research assistant than a daughter, August has learned three things. 1) How to live a life that can fit in a couple of boxes and be moved at an instant’s notice; 2) how to jimmy open locks with her knife; and 3) how to guard her heart. She moves to New York in the hope of being anonymous. But whether August is waitressing at Pancake Billy’s, spending time with big-hearted eccentric roommates determined to scale her walls, or on her college commute, August can’t stop making connections. Least of all with the charming lesbian in a leather jacket who appears on her every train like magic.

August falls hard for Jane’s gallantry, fantasising about sharing houseplants, a bed, a future… There’s just one problem. Jane can’t leave the subway. It’s the only thing keeping her in the here and now. She’s from the 1970s. The more August gets to know her, the more Jane remembers of herself. And this mystery has a tight deadline: soon line will be shut for maintenance, and Jane will blink out of existence forever if August can’t find a way to save her – either by sending Jane back to the ‘70s, or keeping her in the here and now.

Fallout: New Vegas

One Last Stop is a glorious, uplifting sapphic romance novel unlike anything I’ve ever read. The speculative elements as much as the sweeping love story make it a truly unforgettable book – while I have at best a theoretical understanding of the theoretical physics behind Jane’s time travel, McQuiston’s light touch means the science fiction is never hard work. A desperate need to know what happens next, if and how these two women manage to be together, kept me turning the pages deep into the small hours.

August is an intensely lovable protagonist – owing to her troubled family history, she’s been afraid of putting down roots or letting people get close to her. And her growth arc is absolutely joyous. August is scrappy, resourceful, and strong. But she’s also incredibly sweet, no matter how hard she tries to hide it, in spite of how loss has defined her life so far.

In Romancing the Beat (the bible for romance writers), Gwen Hayes makes the following argument: “That journey from hole-hearted to whole-hearted is the romance arc for each character. The plot of your book is what you throw at them by way of obstacles that encourage them to confront that hole.”

And August perfectly embodies this principle. By taking a risk and connecting with the people around her, she finds exactly what has been missing from her world. Roommates who become family. A house (well, flat) that becomes a home. A train crush that becomes a love transcending the space-time continuum. Learning to love Jane makes August braver and more open in every other aspect of her life.

And Jane. How could anyone do anything other than love Jane Su? I’m often wary of reading interracial romances written by white authors, but Jane’s culture and ethnicity shape her experiences of the world in ways that feel entirely believable. Jane speculates that she was easily displaced from time because she’s never fully fit in, even in groups where she’s supposed to belong – which is a poignant reflection on what it means to be a lesbian of colour in this world. Jane is a punk rock political firebrand, which isn’t surprising given she came from the 1970s. And McQuiston absolutely nails the appeal held by masc-of-centre lesbians.

On top of the central couple, I fell head over heels in love with this ragtag ensemble of side-characters. August’s roommates and their wider community, people so eccentric and sincere that she can’t help but open up to them, even if it goes against the grain after a lifetime of guarding her heart. I could happily read an entire novel from the perspective of Myla, Niko, Wes, or Isaiah, because every scene with them feels like a gift.

I loved everything about One Last Stop. But nothing delighted me more than the style of McQuiston’s prose. This author has been open about how ADHD shapes their writing process, and it brings this exquisite lively quality to every page. The narrative runs almost like stream-of-consciousness, which makes August’s POV fully immersive. McQuiston’s pacing is so tight that, although the book lasts for 432 pages, it never once lags. Plus, the writing’s subtle lyricism combined with perceptive commentary means One Last Stop has otherworldly emotional resonance.

After reading the book, I can see why One Last Stop has attracted so much hype, and think it’s fully deserved. This is a wonderful, heartfelt story. And I will definitely be revisiting it – both as an audiobook, narrated by the iconic Natalie Naudus, and in print. But first I’ll dive headfirst into McQuiston’s other books, starting with I Kissed Shara Wheeler.