I was wandering around Dublin, in the rain, ducking in and out of shops mostly in an effort to keep dry, footsore and hungry, when I stumbled into a little bookshop hidden away down a narrow lane. I went in, checked out the LGBT section, and saw A Noise from the Woodshed sitting there on the shelf, a first edition, immaculate. I pulled it off the shelf and was entranced by the swirling blue and green cover. I’d read the title story in an anthology of lesbian fiction I had back home, far away, and figured I’d never get to read the rest of Dorcey’s work, since she’s so hard to find. But of course, here she was, home in Dublin. So I guess it was meant to be.
The stories in this collection are beautiful, full of rage and compassion, sensuality and pain. Dorcey writes of women’s truths with both humor and honesty. But my favorite is still “A Noise from the Woodshed,” a joyous, energetic tale of two women “making a living, making a loving” together in a crazy world; it makes you feel like even with all the fighting and struggle we have to do, sometimes it does work out in the end.