Friendship, Aging, and Queer Joy

Have you watched The Golden Girls recently and thought, Wow, this show was ahead of its time? It wasn’t just ahead of its time—it pushed the boundaries of sitcom television, tackling subjects rarely discussed with candor: teenage pregnancy, politics, elder abuse, and, by all accounts, love within gay and lesbian relationships.

That’s What Friends Are For by Wade Rouse is not only a poignant ode to the beloved 1980s sitcom but also a tender, funny, and deeply affecting love letter to friendship—especially the kind forged and tested in life’s rockier moments. The novel offers a passionate meditation on why the queer community, particularly as we age, so often builds families of choice rather than circumstance.

At the heart of the story are four gay men in their golden years who share a house once owned by Zsa Zsa Gabor in Palm Springs. Told through a lens of sarcasm, insecurity, bravery, and genuine kindness, the novel stokes nostalgia for a time when watching The Golden Girls meant curling up next to your mom or grandmom and witnessing some of the best television ever made. And it’s not just the show’s essence that drives that feeling—Teddy, Barry, Ron, and Sid are less like characters on a page and more like people we know: our brothers, fathers, uncles, and best friends.

Beyond the drama of their individual lives—which Rouse handles with care—the roommates host a monthly Golden Girlsdrag spectacular called The Golden Gays at their local theater. Each man embodies one of the iconic characters: Teddy is the sharp-tongued Dorothy, Barry the flirtatious Blanche, Ron the earnest, people-pleasing Rose, and Sid, the elder of the group, portraying a more fragile Sofia. Rouse doesn’t stop at the stage performance; he threads each man’s personality seamlessly into their Golden Girls counterpart, blurring the line between homage and embodiment.

Rouse’s prose is sharp and indulgent, at times almost cinematic—particularly in his depictions of Palm Springs. From the first pages, the reader is grounded in the heat and aridity of the setting as the characters unfold. His writing adds depth and charm to the ensemble while allowing them to remain flawed, vulnerable, and quietly tragic.

There are some pacing issues midway through the novel, particularly surrounding Teddy’s storyline. His devastating childhood—the horrific beatings at his father’s hands and his eventual exile from his family—was difficult to read. Not because the writing faltered, but because the accumulation of trauma felt less like necessary backstory and more like a sustained emotional bludgeoning. At times, it bordered on belabored.

That said, what lingered with me most after finishing That’s What Friends Are For was the friendship itself. The I’ve-got-your-back moments are deeply poignant. Of course, the men bicker—often spectacularly—and that’s part of the joy. You can love someone fiercely, support them unconditionally, and still want to shake some sense into them. Their camaraderie feels earned and authentic, making it easy to understand why they’d saddle up and live together.

Without a doubt, this novel will resonate deeply with lovers of The Golden Girls. Spending time with these characters felt like being a kid again. But even if you’ve never watched the show, there’s plenty here to love. Each of these Golden Gays has something to offer—and chances are, you’ll see someone you know reflected in them.

Thank you to HarperCollins and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for a fair review.