In Marisa Crane’s sophomore novel, A Sharp Endless Need, we’re invited into the raw, visceral world of high school basketball star Mack Morris, whose senior year becomes a blur of grief, desire, and the dizzying possibility of escape. Following their Lambda Literary Award-winning debut I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself, Crane delivers a coming-of-age story that pulses with the same intensity as a fast break down the court, showcasing their undeniable talent for capturing the messy contradictions of adolescence.
The Game Within the Game
The novel opens with Mack Morris navigating twin cataclysms: the sudden death of their gambling-addicted father and the arrival of transfer student Liv Cooper, a sharp-shooting guard who immediately disrupts Mack’s carefully constructed world. Basketball serves as both backdrop and metaphor as their relationship unfolds—on the court, they discover an “electrifying, game-winning chemistry,” but off the court, they’re drawn into an equally intoxicating “more-than-friendship” that feels dangerously out of bounds in their small Pennsylvania town.
Crane’s prose has the precision of a well-executed play. Consider this passage early in the novel when Mack first watches Liv shoot:
“When she shot her first three, her arms moved through the air like swans, smooth and silky, ending in an elegant follow-through. Nothing but net. When she moved, she moved like water.”
The author’s intimate knowledge of basketball culture infuses the narrative with authenticity. The discipline, the ritual, the competitive drive—all are rendered with careful attention. But this isn’t just a sports novel. At its heart, A Sharp Endless Need explores the universal adolescent struggle of discovering oneself while being pulled in multiple directions by desire, expectation, and ambition.
Poetry in Motion
What elevates this novel is Crane’s remarkable ability to transform the physical language of basketball into something transcendent. The basketball sequences shimmer with kinetic energy—you can almost hear the squeak of sneakers on hardwood, feel the satisfying snap of the net after a perfect shot. But these scenes are never just about the game. They’re about the players’ bodies in space, about communication beyond words, about the ways we reveal ourselves through movement.
Take this moment when Mack describes playing with Liv:
“We wanted legacy. Liv and I, we wanted our names in bright lights, our names in everyone’s mouths. Names people would remember. No just on the tip of their tongues, no let me get back to yous; none of that shit.
We wanted fans so loud everything went quiet inside our heads. For a while, we might have had them.”
The novel’s structure mirrors basketball itself—divided into “First Half,” “Halftime,” and “Second Half” with chapter titles like “Tip-Off,” “Hard-Earned Buckets,” and “Full-Court Press.” This framing device could feel gimmicky in less skilled hands, but Crane makes it work by maintaining the athletic metaphor throughout the narrative. Life, like basketball, is about motion, timing, opportunity, and risk.
Queer Desire and Small-Town Constraints
Crane handles Mack’s struggle with identity and desire with nuance and compassion. In a town where homophobia is casually woven into everyday conversation, where teammates casually dismiss gay athletes as “disgusting,” Mack’s growing feelings for Liv are complicated by fear, confusion, and a desperate need for self-preservation.
The tentative romance between Mack and Liv unfolds in stolen moments—ice baths after games, late-night shooting sessions at abandoned courts, whispered confidences in the back of cars. There’s something achingly tender about the way they circle each other, testing boundaries, retreating when vulnerability becomes too much.
Strengths and Shortcomings
Crane’s greatest strength lies in their ability to capture the intensity of adolescent emotion—the all-consuming nature of first love, the weight of grief, the terror of an uncertain future. The novel bristles with energy and authenticity, particularly in its exploration of queer desire in spaces where such feelings must often be hidden or denied.
The basketball sequences are breathtaking, rendered with both technical precision and poetic flair. Crane understands that sports can be a form of self-expression, a way to communicate when words fail.
However, some secondary characters feel thinly sketched. Coach Puck shows promise as a complex father figure for Mack, but his characterization sometimes feels inconsistent. Similarly, Mack’s mother floats at the periphery of the narrative, occasionally surfacing with new-age platitudes before receding again into the background.
Additionally, the novel’s pacing occasionally falters in the second half. After the intense buildup of Mack and Liv’s relationship, their inevitable confrontation with reality feels somewhat rushed and unresolved. Some readers might wish for more exploration of the aftermath of Mack’s accident and its implications for their basketball future.
Comparison to Other Works
Fans of Jean Kyoung Frazier’s Pizza Girl will recognize similar themes of grief, addiction, and yearning in A Sharp Endless Need, though Crane’s novel is more firmly grounded in the world of high school sports. There are echoes of Amanda Kabak’s The Mathematics of Change in its exploration of queer identity in competitive spaces, and the intensity of Mack’s desire for Liv recalls the fevered infatuation of André Aciman’s Call Me by Your Name.
Most obviously, the novel shares DNA with Gina Prince-Bythewood’s beloved film Love & Basketball, transplanting similar themes of athletic ambition and romance to a queer context. What distinguishes Crane’s work, however, is its unflinching portrayal of small-town homophobia and the particular challenges faced by queer athletes.
Final Score
A Sharp Endless Need is a remarkable achievement—a sports novel that transcends its genre, a queer coming-of-age story that feels both specific and universal. Crane writes with the confidence of someone who understands both the technical aspects of basketball and the complicated terrain of the teenage heart.
The novel’s conclusion offers no easy answers for Mack, just as there are no guarantees in sports or in love. What remains is the sense that whatever happens next—whether Mack plays basketball again or not, whether they find their way back to Liv or forge a different path—they will carry forward the lessons learned during this pivotal year:
“I want the game to be an important thing, but not the most important thing. I want the time I spent playing to matter; I want it to matter far less.”
For readers seeking an emotionally resonant exploration of queer desire set against the backdrop of high school sports, A Sharp Endless Need scores a decisive victory. Despite minor flaws in pacing and characterization, Crane has created a compelling portrait of an athlete at a crossroads, navigating the complex interplay of talent, ambition, sexuality, and self-discovery.
Key Takeaways:
- Authentic basketball scenes that capture both the technical and emotional aspects of the sport
- Nuanced exploration of queer identity and desire in a small-town setting
- Powerful depiction of grief and its impact on adolescent development
- Lyrical prose that elevates the narrative beyond typical sports fiction
- Memorable protagonists in Mack and Liv, whose chemistry leaps off the page
While not perfect, A Sharp Endless Need establishes Marisa Crane as a vital new voice in contemporary fiction. Like a clutch player sinking the game-winning shot, they’ve delivered a novel that will stay with readers long after the final buzzer sounds.
