"Comparisons to the films of Miranda July are also apt. Like July, Gabby’s work in Airplane Food has emotional resonance in its flattened language and framing. As I was reading Airplane Food I was often reminded of Miranda July’s film Me and You and Everyone You Know. The attempt to bridge the gap between art and life. To make art like life and life like art. And also the flattened language and framing and bleak landscape but also the beauty and hope within those framings that is unflinching, rare, and brave.” - Marcus Slease, The New Poetics of Confession
"What Gabby Bess captures with her words is the beauty of a fragile time and place. In this collection, she evokes what it means to be young, to be a woman, to have both feet firmly planted both in this world and the virtual. She asks fascinating questions like, ‘Is anyone moved by the plainness of raw skin anymore?’ She makes you trust she has the necessary answers with intelligence and confidence. In this book, Bess builds an identity for herself and tears it down and builds herself anew. It is breathtaking to behold."
—Roxane Gay, author of An Untamed State and Bad Feminist
“The poems and prose pieces in this smart and complex collection illuminate the shape of a new, 21st century webcam feminism—one that questions its own ambitions, knows the shape of pornstar mouths, and doubts the sanctity of individuality when pitted against the existential. Gabby writes with radical uncertainty about illusions of control, the limits of identity, and what it means to still want to kiss another human amidst the screenshots. This is a book that invents its own female gaze and then, like a bad bitch, breaks the lens.”
—Melissa Broder, author of Meat Heart