Téa Franco’s debut short story collection, You Could Be That Kind of Girl, contains twenty-one fascinating stories that explore the ways in which Latina, primarily Borica, girls of all ages and backgrounds navigate the rough terrain of diet culture, Eurocentric beauty standards, white feminism, and American capitalism. The collection’s protagonists range from a teenage vampire picking up a job to support her family to zombified Frida Kahlo to a young girl playing host to a swarm of ravenous ladybugs as she awaits her First Communion. Throughout all of these stories, Franco magically weaves together familial, religious, queer, and feminist themes. Her stories seamlessly incorporate humor, compassion, and an appreciation of nature.
Each story immediately grabs your attention with opening lines including, “As I drop my heavy body into the front seat of my car after a ten-hour shift and look in the rearview mirror to see The Virgin Mary sitting in the back, I am a little shocked, but mostly annoyed I have something new to deal with when all I want is something to eat.” Franco’s stories create fantastically lived-in worlds in which readers automatically fall. Each world, each character, feels genuine in a way that allows readers to instantly connect with the protagonist—even if the protagonist’s actions are as strange as throwing a funeral for a skunk.
The collection itself begins with the gripping sentence:
Before Salomé’s grandmother bought the polka-dot cookie jar she often let Salomé dip her hands into, before wrapping the scraggly scarf finger-knitted by Salomé around her neck, before doling out suffocating hugs and soft-spot kisses, before braiding her heavy hair with arthritic fingers, and well before she met Salomé—three months after she was born to a father whose skin was three shades too dark, hospital-pink faded from her baby cheeks—you’d never guess Grandmother tried to run over father with her rusted Corolla.
While there are a few other lengthy opening lines, Franco’s shorter sentence variations also contain an arresting quality. For example, the eighth story in the collection, “Polycystic Ovary Syndrome Reimagined,” begins, “Nothing seemed off until I was fourteen years old, eating handfuls of soil straight from the bag.” You Could Be That Kind of Girl is imbued with a sense of humorous melancholy that pushes readers to question the ways in which they interact with others, how they view the world around them, and the ways the outside world has influenced the way they treat themselves.
While the subject matter of each story varies, throughout the collection, Franco is conscious of gender, race, and class in a particularly refreshing way. In “Everyone Likes Taylor Swift,” the main character is able to sympathize with the billionaire pop star while still acknowledging her own pain caused by white girls who resemble and seemingly worship Swift.
Stylistically, Franco’s standout pieces include “Creation Myth of a Mixed Girl,” “5 Methods of Coming Out to Your Parents,” “Up Next: I Dye My Hair Blonde,” and “Becoming Beyoncé in Three Easy Steps!” In these stories, the author craftily presents boldly touching narratives through delightfully complex sentences, intricate list-making, and a satirical tone. These stories in particular highlight not only Téa Franco’s writing ability, but also her ability to offer much-needed commentary regarding the various societal and internal pressures many women find themselves struggling to navigate.
You Could Be That Kind of Girl is an important contribution to the American literary tradition because of Franco’s ability to tackle the complexities young brown girls face when trying to survive at the intersection of their cultures. This collection is perfect for Swifties capable of critical thinking, pop culture fans, and lovers of queer literature. Franco’s collection is an extraordinary work steeped in the magical realist literary tradition, but by no means does Franco avoid the very real threats, oppression, and discomfort of brown girlhood. The collection is littered with bittersweet moments that have been entangled with the fantastical, which is the mark of a great writer.
Jzurnee Myers obtained a BA in Political Science and English with a minor in leadership studies from Columbia College (SC) in 2024 and is currently enrolled in Winthrop University’s English MA program. Jzurnee works as a graduate assistant in Winthrop University’s Writing Center.