Long nights, empty stomachs, and impulsive cravings haunt the stories of I’m Not Hungry But I Could Eat. A college grad reunites with a high school crush when invited to his bachelor party, a lonely cat-sitter wreaks havoc on his friends’ apartment, happy hour french fries leave more than grease on lips and fingers, and, squeezed into a diner booth, one man eats past his limit for the sake of friendship. Exploring the lives of bisexual and gay Puerto Rican men, these fifteen stories show a vulnerable, intimate world of yearning and desire. The stars of these narratives linger between living their truest selves and remaining in the wings, embarking on a journey of self-discovery to satisfy their hunger for companionship and belonging

“It’s almost unbelievable what Christopher Gonzalez accomplishes with I’m Not Hungry But I Could Eat—the collection is a generous feat, astounding and heart-wrenching from top to bottom. This book’s heroes are warm and funny, and they’re devastated and devastating, brought to life through the clearest prose, navigating queer stories that are intricately constructed and boundless in scope. Gonzalez’s writing is playful, tender, hilarious, and heartfelt—all at once. This book is a meal shared with the best kind of friend—someone who’s been there and back, keen to tell you what they saw, and inviting you to to share their story, beckoning you toward more. Gonzalez creates magic on the page, and we’re all luckier for it.” — Bryan Washington, author of Lot and Memorial

“I’m Not Hungry but I Could Eat is a book about hunger, but not just food hunger. It’s about the hunger of loneliness. The hunger of being the third wheel. The hunger of being unsure of one’s place in the city or in love or in a crowded happy hour dive bar. These sharp stories, sometimes hilarious and sometimes wrenching, form a collaged portrait of longing and uncertainty. One thing, however, is certain: Christopher Gonzalez is a promising writer, and this is a compelling debut. ”
— Danny Caine, author of Flavortown

“Christopher Gonzalez is a wholly original voice and this book is a treasure, crackling with real and important feelings. The stories of I’M NOT HUNGRY BUT I COULD EAT are funny, sharp and heartbreaking – and full of an enormous amount of hope.”
— Jami Attenberg, author of All This Could Be Yours

“At times full of devastating portraits of bisexual Puerto Rican life, and at others full of the punchiest wit and charm, Gonzalez’s writing leaves you insatiable…craving to need more and more from this exciting writer.” — Marcos Gonsalez, author of Pedro’s Theory

“The stories in I’m Not Hungry But I Could Eat are funny, tender, beautiful, and vulnerable. It is a collection that you immediately melt into as Gonzalez’s gift is in the way he lures you in with the intimacy and sincerity of his voice. This collection is so important as it represents queer, specifically bi, yearning from a male perspective without the trappings of toxic masculinity and shows the depth and breadth of human emotions and the ways in which love, loneliness, and longing are complicated by self doubt. Everyone should read this collection!” — Tyrese Coleman, author of How to Sit

Publish Date: December 1, 2021
Publisher: Santa Fe Writer Writers Project
Distribution: IPG


SFWP
Bookshop

Indiebound
Barnes & Noble

“Gonzalez writes with such care and vulnerability. You feel the hunger in the text, a deference to the carnal that refuses easy categorization or shame. After you finish, you will need to eat.”
— Raven Leilani, author of Luster

“Few authors have the power to make readers feel seen at a visceral level, but Gonzalez achieves this in virtually every short story in this essential collection. His clear-eyed prose captures all the messy joys and crackling anxieties of modern queer life, inviting readers to join its Puerto Rican characters on journeys punctuated by desire, shame, and grace. I’m Not Hungry But I Could Eat is a stunning debut that will leave readers hoping Gonzalez has a long and fruitful career.” — Ruth Joffre, author of Night Beast

“With these stories of dance floors and Lyft rides, of afterparty bodega sandwiches, of self-loathing mixed with shocking vulnerability, topped off by moments of self-discovery, Christopher Gonzalez’s writing will feed you.”— Tomas Moniz, author of Big Familia