By Phoebe Robbins

The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace
Megan Okonsky
Lanternfish Press (Aug 19, 2025)
978-1-941360-89-7

Megan Okonsky’s The Barefoot Followers of Sweet Potato Grace follows a young woman balancing her desire for freedom with her need to please her family, friends, and the “Tombstonians” of Tombstone, Texas, all while dealing with the devastating loss of her beloved cat, Sweet Potato Grace. And did I mention she’s gay?

Okonsky’s novel is a sweet tale (tail?) of found family as main character Pinky Swear confronts grief and contends with her sexuality. This book is driven by Pinky’s wonderfully sheltered yet hopeful outlook on life, and I found myself saying “one more chapter” because of her. I kept reading because I care what Pinky has to say, and I care about who she becomes on her search for belonging. She finds kinship in a queer (in both senses of the word) group of adventurers who look straight out of the 70s in their orange VW van that “parted the Red Sea of boring, sticky air that hung over Tombstone” as it drove into town. While these rad travelers are intriguing, it is Pinky who makes this story the inviting page-turner that it is.

Pinky’s often comedic explanations of the world lend a naivete to the prose that allow readers a glimpse into the small town life she leads, doomed to a seemingly inescapable life of taking over Swear-Itz, her family’s general store. Her description of Sweet Potato Grace as “a mean old bitch” sure makes her a “riot,” as one of her new groovy friends says. As she navigates her closeted sexuality, she develops a crush on one the adventurers, a woman named Mars. The tentative, gentle bond that these two form throughout the novel is a beautiful example of queer joy and acceptance, and it was truly a delight to read.

In the middle of my journey through this book, my family and I discovered that my dog is dying. The vet said his best guess is 4-6 weeks. She’s only 8. I put off my reading for days after Sookie was diagnosed because I wanted nothing to do with a story about a girl grieving her dead cat. But when I picked the book back up, I found myself relating to the sadness that pervades this moment in Pinky’s life, finding comfort in her attempts at honoring Sweet Potato Grace. First, of course, with the inciting incident: Sweet Potato’s funeral service and the eulogy that the gaggle of groovy gadabouts crashed. But in other ways, too, throughout the book, by sharing Sweet Potato Grace’s story with her new friends and painting pictures of her and toasting to her in joyous moments.

And as she struggles to hold on to her best friend’s memory, she muses on grief: “I found myself thinking how happy I truly was in that moment—until I remembered why I hadn’t been so high in the clouds for the past few weeks. Sweet Potato Grace. My kitty, whom I’d failed. Grief hides like that, doesn’t it?” I think we all feel this way about lost pets—wondering if we should have taken them to the vet sooner, if we should’ve noticed something was off. Through Pinky, Okonsky reminds us to give ourselves grace in grief. It comes creeping back up right when you’re finally feeling alright and because you’re feeling alright, the guilt you feel makes the grief all the more powerful. But Pinky, through Okonsky’s honest and emotional writing, allows readers to see that process from the outside, and come closer to understanding the ineffable complexities of loss and love.

Overall, I enjoyed this book immensely! I have already recommended it to both my mother and sister, and we all enjoy very different stories, so I think that is a testament to the lovability of this book. It truly has something for everyone, and I promise, Pinky Swear will capture your heart the way she captured mine!