There are few things I love more than a good romance. Or even a bad romance. One of those things? A good (or bad!) holiday romance. Anyone who knows me knows I’m a sucker for a cheesy Hallmark Christmas rom-com. Yes, they’re predictable, but that’s the charm of them! My biggest issue? Not enough sapphic holiday rom-coms.
And that’s where books come in! While TV networks are slow to catch on that sapphics want to see our love stories on-screen, books are willing to keep up with the demand. These stories make you want to curl up on the couch in a thick sweater with a mug of your favorite hot chocolate while sitting next to your twinkling Christmas tree.
Because what is the holiday season about if not a little romance? (I say this as a person who got engaged on Christmas!)
Teen actress Arden James is more well-known for her party girl persona than her acting abilities. So when a picky director won’t give her a role because of her off-screen antics, Arden and her publicist make up a lie. They say that she’s from a small town (technically not a lie) and that she’s dating her childhood best friend Caroline (huge lie), which she can prove when she goes home for Christmas.
Caroline isn’t interested in anything having to do with Arden James. She’s been out of sight, out of mind for years. But when Arden shows up on her doorstep promising her an article in Cosmopolitan in exchange for pretending to be her girlfriend for 12 days, Caroline knows that it’s the journalistic opportunity she needs. What could possibly go wrong?
If you wished that holiday classic The Holiday had a sapphic element, you’re in luck with this new holiday romance.
Bee Turner needs to get away from San Francisco. Everything is too much. So when her best friend suggests she list her sleek apartment on popular house swapping site Vacate, Bee jumps at the chance to escape. Meanwhile, Clover Mills has been having a year. Between losing her mother and ending things with her fiancé as a result, she needs to get out of her small Ohio town. When she hears about Vacate, her bags are packed faster than you can say cable car.
When she gets to San Francisco, Clover can’t seem to avoid Bee’s sister Beth, while Bee keeps finding herself in the presence of Clover’s ex, Knox. Maybe holiday magic is a real thing after all.
It’s important to mention that only one of these storylines is sapphic, featuring a late-in-life coming out story.
Ashley Herring Blake sapphic holiday romance? Say less, I’m already in.
Charlotte Donovan is living the dream as a violinist in New York City. Nevermind the fact that she was left at the altar five years ago and she never hears from her single mother. She’s ready for Christmastime in the city when her ensemble mate Sloane invites everyone to Colorado for the holiday.
The group aren’t the only ones in Colorado for Christmas — Sloane’s sister has brought home her friend Brighton, who just happens to be Charlotte’s ex. Now the two women have to pretend that they don’t know each other. Except that gets increasingly harder as their past comes back to them with a vengeance.
There is something about a holiday romance that just begs for a fake dating storyline. Technically, this is a Thanksgiving story, but honestly, it’s all the holiday season in my mind!
All Murphy wants is to get out of her small Illinois town and start her life somewhere else. Instead, she’s stuck working in the same coffee shop she’s been working at since she was sixteen, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to pass that pesky community college class that’s keeping her from graduating.
Murphy’s string of bad luck could potentially change thanks to former classmate Ellie Meyers. Ellie’s mom just happens to be the same professor whose class Murphy keeps failing. Ellie and Murphy realize that they are each other’s best bets for the next step in their goal lists, so they hatch a fake dating plan. Except the dating quickly feels not so fake…
No-kill animal shelter Junebug Farms decide to sponsor their town’s annual Christmas parade as a way to bring more attention to the shelter. And they will use the parade’s king and queen to create videos to ensure that all their pups are delivered to their forever homes on Santa’s sleigh.
What they don’t know is that the parade is going to have two queens this year. That is if longtime dog walking volunteer (and resident matchmaker) Mia Sorenson has her way. Mia rigs the voting so that her granddaughter Samantha and her friend Keegan get the gig. But will the two women overcome years of beating around the bush and the public embarrassment to make true love real?
Haf hasn’t had the best year, and all she wants to do is go to a Christmas party and have a good time. But her good time gets a little too festive: she gets drunk and kisses Christopher under the mistletoe while his ex-girlfriend just happens to be watching.
Suddenly, a drunken kiss turns into a fake relationship, with Haf joining Chrisopher’s family for the holiday season so he can save face. But word to the wise Haf, don’t fall in love with your fake boyfriend’s sister…
The Belvedere siblings’ lives are all falling apart when they show up to celebrate Christmas in the Catskills with their singer/actress mother Babs. Oldest daughter Liz has become a showrunner who can’t figure out season two of her hit show, and also can’t get a handle on her crush on the show’s star Violet. Her comedian middle sister Birdie is chasing skirts more than she’s chasing gigs, causing her to fear that she will be a flash in the pan. And then there’s their little brother Rafi, who proposed to his coworker girlfriend in front of the whole office and got turned down.
During their time in the mountains, each of the siblings learns a lot about themselves, their eccentric mother, and each other. And of course, there’s also a little holiday romantic sparkle.
The last thing newly single businesswoman Margot wants is a holiday romance. But when sweet Ben needs a girlfriend to spend Christmas with him and his family, she can’t say no. She knows that nothing will happen — she’ll get a couple weeks away from London, Ben gets his family off his back. It’s a win-win situation.
There is something that Margot didn’t anticipate when making the deal: Ben’s sister Ellie. She has Margot majorly rethinking the whole holiday romance thing.
Everything you need to know about this story is right there in the title. If there’s another trope I love for a holiday romance, it’s second chance.
Holly hasn’t been home in the two years since her brother died. Her family is still grieving, her ex won’t stop calling, and everything gets worse when she bumps into her first love, Vicky Castleton.
While Holly is trying to heal the broken parts of herself, her family and best friend keep pushing her to confront her past. And as she spends more time with Vicky, it’s clear that Holly has never gotten over her. Is Christmas the perfect time for her to risk it all for love?
A sapphic It’s a Wonderful Life you say? Love it!
Bailey George is ready to bid adieu to Lanford Falls and finally leave her responsibilities behind for a vacation in New York City. But then the person taking over her leadership position for the town’s Winter Wonderfest gets sick, and obligation keeps Bailey from following through with her plans. While she’s pretty bummed about being stuck in Lanford Falls, things get a little better when her crush Marla agrees to help her out.
Unfortunately for Bailey, things just keep going wrong. Then one night, she finds herself under the town’s old bridge. When she wishes that she had never been born, a drag queen named Clara Angel shows her that Lanford Falls wouldn’t be better off without her. And holiday magic can make any dreams come true.
Shani didn’t mean to hit May with her mom’s Subaru. It was just another part of the curse of Winter Break, including the way Shani got dumped. But she’s going to push all that aside and focus on her month-long paleoichthyology internship. After all, that’s why she’s in D.C.
But when a dog walking gig serendipitously brings May back into Shani’s life, it’s easy to forget about fish fossils and heartbreak. Especially when they get snowed in together on Christmas Eve. Things were never supposed to turn out this way. Will Shani be able to accept that sometimes plans change?
When artist Miriam Blum’s great aunt Cass dies and leaves her the family Christmas tree farm, she has to face parts of her past that she really doesn’t want to. All she wants to do is sit shiva (yes, there is something ironic about a Jewish woman running a Christmas tree farm), avoid her parents and get as far away from the farm as she can. But of course, life has other plans.
The business is about to go under, and to save it, Miriam must work together with Noelle, the farm’s grumpy manager. The chemistry between them is enough to burn the trees to the ground, but will that help them save the farm?
LA event planner Morgan’s life has blown up after a work-related scandal, and she’s forced to head home to Fern Falls for the holidays. But Fern Falls isn’t the idyllic holiday haven she wants it to be. Mainly because her former best friend turned crush Rachel is there. Rachel, who has now become a sexy lumberjane thanks to working at her family’s Christmas tree farm.
Soon, Morgan learns that Rachel’s tree farm is the only thing keeping Fern Falls from being sold to a seedy developer. So Morgan decides to put her party planning to good use and create the ultimate holiday experience. But just because she’s helping Rachel’s farm doesn’t mean they’re going to fall in love. Right?
Reading has always been one of my favorite activities. As a kid, I would curl up just about anywhere and read. There used to be books stashed all over our house: between the mattress and the box spring, underneath the radiator. Even though there was no shortage of books at my disposal, I always returned to my favorites. To this day, I can’t tell you how many times I read Matilda or The Princess Diaries. Now that I’m older, my TBR is always a mile long, so I don’t reread books as often as I did as a kid, but when I find myself needing comfort from the atrocities of being an adult, these are the books I usually turn to.
I have read this book at least three times, if not more. Whenever I’m in a reading (or writing) slump, I return to this book. Safi masters both the art of tension and crafting a delicious slow burn romance. This is the book that taught me how utterly satisfying an enemies-to-lovers story can be. Sana is the epitome of the perfect cheerleader, and Rachel is the director with a chip on her shoulder. When they’re forced to work together, they realize that there’s always something else beneath the surface.
I am not a fantasy reader, but this fantasy was so wonderful and so unbelievably queer. It’s a futuristic retelling of King Arthur, but there’s one notable difference: Young Arthur is now a teenage girl named Ari. And the wise wizard Merlin is a bumbling teenage boy. Throw in a capitalist corporation running the government, queer knights of the roundtable, and sizzling tension between Ari and Guinevere, and I was hooked.
This was the first sapphic romance I ever read, and it has always maintained a special place in my heart. I love the “secret royal falls in love with a commoner” trope, probably because I spent years of my life hoping I would marry a royal. When princess Olivia decides to escape her royal life in London for the quiet in Cornwall, she isn’t expecting to meet Rosie, a struggling cafe owner. Can their love overcome the challenge of duty?
I love an enemies-to-lovers romance, and this one is so much fun that it quickly became a favorite. Millie Quint is from Texas, and after her best friend (and ex-girlfriend?) Jude breaks her heart, she decides to take to the Scottish highlands to attend a boarding school that is going co-ed for the first time. She’s not expecting to be roommates with Flora, who is the literal princess of Scotland and a royal pain in the ass. Eventually, Millie finds herself in a situationship with Flora, but will it be different this time? Some things are worth fighting for.
In this graphic memoir, 15-year-old Maggie spends the summer as she always does, at Camp Bellflower for girls. But this summer is different. Not only does she find herself becoming an expert at the rifle range, but there’s an older female counselor named Erin who awakens something in Maggie that she’s not necessarily ready for.
It feels like a cliché to include this book, because literally everyone loves it. There’s a movie adaptation that is so perfect. I will say, I read this book aloud to my fiancée when we first started dating, and it made her fall in love with me. Make of that what you will.
This book is truly just a joy to read, and turned me into an instant Leah Johnson stan. It was the only book I read during lockdown — it took me months, but I did it. Liz Lighty needs $10,000 to pay for college, and instead of burdening her family with the responsibility, she decides to run for prom queen to win the scholarship that is exactly $10,000. The only thing is, she doesn’t expect to fall in love with her competition.
New Adult is a genre that is woefully underdeveloped, but this book perfectly straddles the line of Young Adult and New Adult. Elliot is a college freshman who thinks more about partying and hooking up than she does about her schoolwork. And hook up she does. Elliot is a pansexual queen, but her best relationship is the love/hate one she has with her RA Rose. (I told y’all, I love an enemies-to-lovers story!) This is an adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma and has a cool use of footnotes due to Elliot’s ADHD.
Look, I would die for the ladies of Bright Falls okay? But the first book in the series definitely holds the tightest grip on my heart. It’s probably because of how much I related to Claire, the bisexual single mom who has kept a tight lock on her heart. But then brooding sexy Delilah Green shows up and throws her life into a tailspin.
I love the Creekwood kids, and after I read Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, Leah was absolutely my favorite. Giving her her own book was a brilliant decision, and I devoured it pretty quickly. It’s senior year, and things between her super tight friend group are starting to change, which always happens senior year. Leah doesn’t know if things will ever be the same, especially after she realizes that her feelings for one of her best friends are starting to change.
This is a recent favorite that will absolutely be a book I return to because I loved it so much. Written by actual wives in a dual POV, Alex is a brash, chaotic flirt, and Molly is the exact opposite. When Alex agrees to help Molly land the girl of her dreams in an attempt to prove that she’s not selfish to her ex (which hopefully won’t be permanent), both girls get more than they bargained for.
What are the queer comfort reads you return to over and over?
I often wonder why dystopian fiction is so compelling to so many of us, especially these days, when our real world looks more and more like a dystopia itself. What good is escape if what you’re escaping to is just a fun-house mirror? All of my favorite dystopian novels have this quality —that eerie too-close-to-home feeling that allows you to feel just unsettled enough to keep reading.
But why do we like to be unsettled? Life is pretty hard already. Maybe it’s because good fiction, with its low barrier to entry and captivating prose, allows us to understand the world around us without staring directly into the void; like looking sideways at the stars to fully see their light. Maybe fully acknowledging the real dystopia of capitalism and war and inequality is just too painful for our weak human brains, but through metaphor and lyricism, we can start to understand the forces at play off the page.
How else to explain the dark pleasure of not just reading dystopian literature but writing it? My own dystopian debut, Yours for the Taking, came out in December and is about a near-future New York City ravaged by climate change and a group of queer people who come together under the worst of circumstances. I didn’t write it to be realistic — if anything, I tried to make it a little ridiculous in order to inject some levity into its darker themes — so you can imagine my surprise when reader feedback started coming in about how close to real life it felt. I also knew that meant I had gotten something right.
Friends and readers keep asking me how I took care of myself while writing something so disturbing. I don’t really have a good answer for this. The writing was self-care. I worked on this book between 2019 and 2023, years not exactly known for… incredible progress. In many ways, letting myself slip into another, imaginary world — albeit a worse one — was how I made sense of it all. And when I got stuck, I turned to other dystopian books, looking at how both classic and contemporary works dealt with darker themes. Here are the ten that impacted me the most. While vastly different in subject matter, they all have echoes of our own world, as though the seeds for the future societies they describe have already been planted.
This novel was the first time it occurred to me that you can take familiar-feeling queer drama and set it at the end of the world, instantly upping the stakes. Imagine! I’ll be a fan of Michelle Tea forever and this was just one of many books that made me feel in awe of her. In Black Wave, the world is ending in 1999, and the fictional character Michelle is living in a bookstore in San Francisco while trying to stay sober and also date Matt Dillon. It’s very funny, surreal, and incredibly original.
If you haven’t read this or seen the movie, go into it blind. Unwrapping the mystery of what the fuck is going on in this book is half the fun of reading it; and by fun I mean the first time I read it, once it hit me what was actually happening, I felt like I was falling straight into a black hole of heartbreak! I won’t spoil it with a plot summary. I’ve returned to it many times to figure out how Ishiguro managed to pull off such a feat. Goes without saying this one is a masterpiece.
Multiple POVs span across decades in the aftermath of a global flu pandemic that wipes out most of the world’s population, though the heart of the book is a girl who is part of a traveling Shakespearean theater troupe and the dangers/joys they encounter on the road. Read it even if you think you want to avoid pandemic literature. Like most great sci fi it’s about something much larger; in this case, the way we’re all connected to each other by love and art and love of art. Also, as Riese and I discussed in our recent interview, the TV show based on the book is the best show ever made, full stop.
A middle schooler navigates a drastically changing world when the earth suddenly starts spinning slower, making the days inexplicably longer. The “age” of miracles is both the time she’s living through and her literal age, in which she discovers first love, deals with the realities of her family, and tries to figure out who she is. It’s decidedly not YA despite focusing on young adults. This one’s a real gutpunch, and worth every second.
One of the first dystopian novels I ever read, this one follows a young girl who lives in a gated community in a world ravaged by climate change and war and capitalism. When outside forces can’t be held at bay anymore, she leaves, starting a new religion based on her own ideas, amassing more and more followers on the journey to safer grounds. It’s the blueprint for a lot of contemporary literature, and a classic for a reason. By the end of it you might just want to join her, too.
Mac Crane’s debut novel is a master class in lyricism. In the future, in place of incarceration, a crime gets you an extra shadow, dooming you to live with the visible stigma of what you’ve done — though what counts as a crime and who gets to decide that is ethically murky. On the first page, our narrator’s wife dies in childbirth and the baby is given a shadow for her murder, setting the tone for a book filled with grief, love, found family, and an ever-present surveillance state. Told mostly as though the narrator is speaking to her late wife, and interspersed with experiments in form, it’s wildly imaginative and full of messy queer sex. I’ve taken to giving it as a gift.
When each borough of New York City is personified and brought to life, and they must find each other in order to defeat the interdimensional forces threatening to turn NYC into something sinister and unlivable. The sign that this evil is coming? Gentrification, mostly. A great example of how a wild story can so accurately reflect our reality, I haven’t stopped thinking about this book since I read it a few years ago.
You might want to tell me that this is technically science fiction, but I’m not sure what is more dystopian than an unlivable earth and a scientist trying to inject monkeys on a terraformed planet with a virus to speed up their evolution (so that they can evolve to worship her, naturally) and accidentally creating a super-smart species of spider instead. Sorry! The spider planet is the scariest world I’ve encountered on the page, and therefore I’m including it on this list. The spider chapters alternate with the human ones, and by the first hundred pages of this epic I was sold: spiders do it better. When the humans and the spiders finally collide, well, I won’t give it away, you just have to read it.
When the world is hit with a pandemic that turns the sick into zombies, one woman’s employer offers severance to anyone who keeps coming to work until the end date, and so she does — until she’s the last woman in New York City, eventually joining a band of other survivors and setting out into the terrible remains of the plague-stricken world. It’s a creepy meditation on exploitation and capitalism, and was extra eerie once the real pandemic happened and some of us (ahem) just kept going to our little jobs and typing on our little computers while the world was on fire.
Every time I recommend this book to people I also give them a heads up that it might ruin their life (but like, in a good way). It’s the story of an Earth forever changed by a virus unleashed by the melting permafrost, but becomes something much bigger than that. Each chapter feels like a separate story, taking us further and further into a pandemic-ravaged world, until you start to understand how it’s all connected — and that the very genre of the book might not be what you think it is. Ultimately it’s not just about how the characters and storylines are connected but how we all are, to each other and to things bigger than us. I really can’t count the number of times I cried reading it, and it cracked something open in my own creative process in terms of what you’re allowed to do with time and the scale of your story.
We all learned new things about ourselves and dove deeply into new hobbies during the pandemic, like making bread or getting really impressive shoulder muscles. For me, I discovered that my peak solo activity of all time is “listening to an audiobook while doing a jigsaw puzzle.” When life itself feels emotionally overwhelming or otherwise unstable, I turn to puzzles as, I suppose, some kind of problem I can solve with my hands, a way to put all the pieces of something together, if I can’t manage to do so with all the pieces of myself. But when you pair that experience with the experience of listening to a great book??? I have unlocked a new level of intellectual heaven, suitable year round under any emotional or physical or national circumstances. There is nothing I can recommend more highly than this specific activity.
Here are some ideas for jigsaw puzzles you could do while listening to a book!
danforth’s Victorian sapphic horror-comedy-romance begins with cursed New England girl’s boarding school Brookhants and its rich, tortured history, linking it to a contemporary narrative in which lesbian it girl Harper Harper (who I had no choice but to envision as Kristen Stewart) is starring opposite a B-list actress and former child star in a film shooting on the Brookhants grounds. There’s a million other threads in there too, you’ll see. “Plain Bad Heroines is a book that will raise the hairs on the back of your neck, even as it surprises you with the occasional sweetness, and renews your appreciation for masterful story-telling,” wrote Lindsay in her review.
Queer author Elif Batuman’s novel is set in the mid-nineties, following Selin, the young Harvard student we met in Batuman’s The Idiot, attempting to make ssense of the summer she spent working in the Hungarian countryside while pursuing her elusive crush, Ivan, while also seeking answers to bigger questions, about how to “live a life as interesting as a novel—a life worthy of becoming a novel—without becoming a crazy abandoned woman oneself?” Elif’s writing is a treasure, she’s just so smart and incisive I want to read everything she has ever said.
Chinatown San Francisco Eastern Bakery Puzzle + Last Night at the Telegraph Club read by Emily Woo Zeller
Set in 1950s, queer legend Malinda Lo’s Last Night at the Telegraph Club is the story of Lily Hu, a teenage daughter of Chinese immigrants exploring her sexuality and the lesbian scene of San Francisco during a time when Red Scare paranoia is turning Chinatown upside down and threatening her father’s citizenship. “As Lily becomes more comfortable in her own skin, Zeller’s narration becomes bolder and more confident,” writes LitHub. “Be forewarned, this audiobook will break your heart—and mend it.”
Jessa, a lesbian in her thirties tortured by her past and slogging hazily through her present, is keeping her father’s taxidermy shop afloat after his suicide while her Mom loses it in her own way and her brother Milo’s wife — who Jessa was also in love with — walks out on all of them. Then Lucinda, a mysterious gallery owner, comes to town to shake it all up. It’s a story about family and grief and loss and beasts and sweat and most of all, Florida. In her story about Mostly Dead Things, Molly wrote that the title “is a nod to the taxidermy, sure, but it’s also a perspective on the human heart and how it perseveres, even in the most hostile environments.”
50 Must-Watch Movies + Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo narrated by alma cuervo, julia whelan and robin miles
The title and the the author’s heterosexuality had me certain for the many years it roamed bestseller lists that this could not possibly be a queer book, despite it showing up in that section of my Libby app. But indeed it is and wow did I love it. The story of reclusive aging Hollywood movie star Evelyn Hugo’s life — as it is relayed to Monique, a young writer in New York City who has no real grasp on why Evelyn’s chosen her as her biographer — is told through her seven public relationships, her marriages to a series of men. But those marriages are not the whole story of Evelyn’s romantic life IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
Cavallini Jellyfish Puzzle + Our Wives Under the Sea, narrated by Annabel Baldwin and Robyn Holdaway
This is the story of two wives. One went off on a deep-sea submarine mission and came back mixed up, and the other is grappling with the enormity of that gradual, painful wreckage. “Armfield has written a novel so chock-full of stunning sentences that that urge to scream needled its way into me throughout my first and second reads of the book,” writes Kayla.
Derrick Adams x Dreamyard 500 Piece Double-Sided Jigsaw Puzzle + Ace of Spades read by Jeanette Illidge and Tapiwa Mugweni
Ace of Spades is a “heart-racing horror mystery thriller” about Devon Richards and Chiamaka Adebayo, two of the only Black students at an extremely white elite private academy whose exceptional roads towards academic success feel suddenly threatened after their promotions to senior class prefect lead to both students becoming the target of anonymous text messages that reveal private information and secrets about Chiamaka and Devon to the entire student body. It’s a gripping story and I couldn’t put it down.
read by jennifer kim and julian cihi
Jim Golden Video Game Puzzle + Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow narrated by Jennifer Kim & Julian Cihi
This is one of the best books I have ever read in my entire little life! Spanning thirty years, starting with precocious wildly bright kids collaborating at Harvard who eventually become very successful video game designers with a whole company in Venice Beach, this novel “examines the multifarious nature of identity, disability, failure, the redemptive possibilities in play, and above all, our need to connect: to be loved and to love.”
“What I love about reading Washington’s fiction is that I can always taste it,” writes Kayla of Family Meal. “The food, sure. But so much else, too. Summer nighttime air, sweat, spit. He writes bodies and queer sex and place so well… As with all of Washington’s work, violence and tenderness sit simultaneously in the pages. Gay ghosts, good food, queer sex — the novel checks so many boxes for me.”
It was another great year for LGBTQ books, as evidenced by the sprawling list of 65 standout titles across every genre published by Casey Stepaniuk earlier this month. Her list is a great display of the range and depth of the year’s top queer books. But I wanted to zoom in a bit and offer a personal list, one narrowed down from my own stack of queer books I worked my way through over the past year. I thought it would be fun to do a ranked list of the 12 queer novels that stood out to me this year. And by “fun,” I mean pleasurably agonizing. This was not an easy list to put together. There are several novels that almost made the cut and might even be just as worthy of a spot on the list but were nudged out for some abstract reason that would be difficult for me to perfectly explain. What I like about this final 12 is that they’re all very distinct novels from one another, even as some of them can easily be put into conversation with one another. Together, they form a thrilling tapestry of my year in queer reading.
Many of the novels on the list do not have standalone reviews on Autostraddle yet, as I regrettably fell behind on books coverage this summer. But one of my 2024 goals as the lead editor of the Literature vertical here is to retroactively correct that in the coming months. So while my blurbs below are brief, you’ll be hearing more about these novels very soon.
Here are the 12 best queer novels of 2023.
A confident and capable debut, Black and queer media worker Mickey Hayward finds herself unceremoniously kicked out the door, prompting her to write a takedown of the entire industry, exposing the various levels of racism and sexism she experienced. Little happens as a result, and Mickey has to go backward to go forward, leaving the life she has built in New York with her partner Lex to move back to the Maryland suburbs and grapple with it all. Back in the hometown, lots of expectations and an ex await. As a media worker myself, I of course found much to love and wince at in the easy-to-flip pages of Homebodies. And the messy queer drama of it all delights.
There’s nothing scarier to me these days than climate fiction — or, more accurately, climate horror — and in Yours for the Taking, Korn paints a bleak picture of the future. The earth becomes inhabitable, so projects known as Insides, essentially glassed-in cities sealed off from the endless storms and unlivable heat, emerge. But Insides aren’t driven by community care or radical revolution; they’re projects of capitalism and status quo. And when ultimate girlboss Jacqueline Millender takes control of one, her promise of a gender revolution that places women, and mothers in particular, at the top of society reeks of dangerous white feminism. Little pockets of hope and heat (the welcome kind) emerge throughout the narrative in the form of queer love stories. As I write in my review:
Yours for the Taking understands well that in the face of climate change, capitalism won’t save us. Matriarchy won’t save us. Jacqueline’s attempts to reimagine the world aren’t revolutionary. She manufactures community rather than fostering it. And yet, communities and platonic love and queer love still find a way to bloom despite the constraints of surveillance and suppression. Korn captures those bursts of resistance and hope, but Yours for the Taking is often most enthralling when needling into its characters’ most harmful choices.
Beagin’s novel, according to my review, “veers from horny to humorous to macabre in zigs and zags.” It follows Greta, a 45-year-old transcriptionist for a sex therapist who becomes obsessed with one of the clients whose sessions she pens. She gives this mystery woman the nickname Big Swiss, but a chance run-in with the object of her obsession at the local dog park deepens the obsession, blurs boundaries. Big Swiss is a 29-year-old gynecologist who has never had an orgasm, and the two embark on an affair built on a massive lie, Greta concealing her true identity from the woman whose inner life she has access to. “The novel asks ongoing and open-ended questions about sex, trauma, violence, about violation, observation, obsession,” I write in my review. And if that sounds as up your alley as it was mine, this is definitely a novel for you to check out.
A high-octane debut novel that burns brightly at the turn of every page, Your Driver Is Waiting veers through the racetrack of first-person narrator and rideshare driver Damani’s life as she navigates taking care of herself, her mother, and her community after the death of her father, who was killed quite literally by capitalism by my reading. Damani lives constantly on the edge: Her financial situation is perilous, she’s impulsive, and she throws herself into a fraught relationship with a white girl who doesn’t really get the contours of her life. I like what I wrote in my review about the idea of the novel as “satire”:
Some readers may be tempted to label Your Driver Is Waiting as satire. A ride share app called RideShare, blanket protests against things Damani can’t even keep track of, the fact that that fancy fundraiser turns out to be for a new brand of spring water called The Fight that promises to donate ten cents from each bottle to a breakfast plan for local city kids…it does all sound heightened and on-the-nose. But it doesn’t read as satire, just like Succession or White Lotus aren’t really satire. The characters and their behaviors on those shows about the ultra-wealthy are completely believable, just like the events, emotional stakes, motivations, and world-building details of Your Driver Is Waiting are closer to reality than to dystopia. In being so in your face and heavy-handed, the novel is actually quite effective in its scathing critique of capitalism and white supremacy and of some of the mainstream, toothless efforts to combat it.
Pomegranate opens just as its protagonist Ranita is about to get out of prison after a four-year sentence for opiate possession. She leaves behind haunting memories but also Maxine, a lover who loved her well and whose soft touch is present throughout the novel almost like a gentle haunting. Freedom in Pomegranate is complicated. Family is complicated. The novel portrays addiction and recovery with specificity, nuance, and empathy, and doesn’t present them as binary categories but rather both forces that operate nonlinearly and unpredictably in Ranita’s life. At the risk of sounding corny, the novel is indeed like a pomegranate itself: acidic and sweet in equal measure. Crack it open and marvel at all its interconnected seeds.
In Brainwyrms, transphobia is quite literally a parasitic infection that violently takes over its hosts’ minds. That on-the-nose metaphor shouldn’t work as well as it does, and yet in the masterful horror hands of Rumfitt, it does so swimmingly. It tells the intersecting stories of Frankie and Vanya, two trans people who meet at a play party. Shortly after, Frankie is peeing in Vanya’s mouth, and the two strike up an ongoing dom/sub dynamic that crashes them into each other’s fraying lives. Frankie is a trans woman and survivor of a TERF terrorist bombing at the gender clinic where she used to work, and Vanya is a younger nonbinary person with a parasite fetish who escaped their abusive family, including a mother infected with transphobic brainworms. It’s a nasty (complimentary), often experimental horror novel that’s often unsubtle (a character is definitely supposed to be the in-text version of J.K. Rowling) but also wonderfully complex. Its in-your-face quality is definitely an asset, a striking work of kink, violence, care, and the deep parasitic impacts of hate and fearmongering.
Oh how I love art about fucked-up sister dynamics, and All-Night Pharmacy is an instant classic of the canon. An unnamed protagonist (another thing I love!) is perpetually pulled into the wild drug and alcohol-fueled web of her chaotic older sister Debbie. The two frequent Salvation, an L.A. bar full of misfits who have no idea what it is they’re really looking for. When Debbie disappears, their co-dependent link is suddenly severed, and our narrator learns living without Debbie might free her. But forever used to defining herself in relation to another, she ends up in a relationship with Sasha, the strange woman who wanders into the hospital where she works claiming a psychic connection to her. I reveled in the sexy, scary edges to this book, and at every turn it’s obvious it was written by a poet, Madievsky’s sentences lithe and alive.
It’s honestly hard to believe this is a debut, so assured it is in story and in form. It reminds me of works of Woolf, but I’ve also taken to calling it “kinky butch The Price of Salt,” which of course is an over-simplification, and yet many of the themes of that influential work of lesbian literature are at play here. The title refers to the object of our narrator’s (also unnamed) erotic affection. Mrs. S, the headmaster’s wife at an elite all-girls boarding school where our butch, binder-wearing narrator has just arrived from Australia to work. She enters into a passionate affair with Mrs. S, full of secrets and strikingly queer, true-to-life sex. But even more than the steamy affair, I’m interested in the ways the novel explores platonic queer kinship through the narrator and another employee at the school. Mostly, I just want to sit inside the sweaty sentences of the novel over and over.
It is difficult to write an accurate summary of this tremendous new novel from Chang, but that hard-to-explain quality of the book is absolutely intentional and absolutely a plus. Organ Meats invites you into the feral, meaty tension and release of obsessive friendship between young girls, the horrors of girlhood, and the seduction and danger of myth. Rainie and Anita’s friendship has a possessive, violent quality to it, even as they genuinely seem to be the only people who really understand one another. Here’s some of what I wrote in my review:
Chang threads together a stunning tapestry of horror in the novel. Ecological horror looms over the setting: Anita and Rainie live in a place that hasn’t seen rain for pretty much their entire lives. Gothic girlhood and haunted family narratives add texture to this fable made up of so many micro fables. Body horror abounds. Anyone familiar with Chang’s work won’t be surprised to find bodily fluids and functions captured plainly on the page. Piss, shit, blood and spit are all part of this book’s simultaneously grotesque and wondrous alchemy. There are few boundaries separating dogs, trees, and humans here. Same with dreams/memories and beauty/ugliness. It’s a novel that loves to collapse categories and build metaphors you’ll want to tongue like a loose tooth, searching for meaning(s).
Torres combines actual historical documents — primarily the 1941 study Sex Variants: A Study of Homosexual Patterns — and historical figures to incisively analyze the very concept of queer storytelling. Archival work becomes expansive and complex in the novel, which follows an unnamed gay narrator into the desert to care for a dying queer elder connected to the lesbian behind Sex Variants whose involvement has mostly been erased from the work. Erasure is indeed a motif throughout, and Torres redacts pages from Sex Variants to poetic effect. Our narrator promises to continue the work of Juan, the dying man, but it’s never quite clear what this work is. Perhaps it’s just listening to his stories and sharing his own, as they do every night. Perhaps all the ways we tell and preserve stories as queer folks are interconnected. And maybe the ways we’re erased can tell us the truth about who we are. This is a novel I’ll return to often, not in search of concrete answers but rather to sit with the questions it asks.
What I love about reading Washington’s fiction is that I can always taste it. The food, sure. But so much else, too. Summer nighttime air, sweat, spit. He writes bodies and queer sex and place so well. In Family Meal, Cam is haunted by his dead lover Kai. He moves back to his hometown of Houston and reconnects with his former best friend TJ, starts working in TJ’s family’s bakery, in which Cam also grew up after the death of his parents. As with all of Washington’s work, violence and tenderness sit simultaneously in the pages. Gay ghosts, good food, queer sex — the novel checks so many boxes for me. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to devour it in one sitting or savor it slowly. I opted for the latter and didn’t regret it.
While finessing the rest of the placements on this list was laborious, and many positions changed over time, the one thing I knew to be true from the onset of compiling this list was that Biography of X would be number one. Lacey collapses fiction and reality to craft a fictionalized biography of an eccentric, iconoclastic artist, penned posthumously by her younger wife CM as an attempt to revise the other autobiography written about her dead wife that CM finds wholly unsatisfying and incomplete. But as she tries to piece together the puzzlebox of her late wife’s inconsistent and almost fable-like existence, CM encounters the hard truths that perhaps you can never really know a person. Lacey weaves in real artists, writers, and thinkers into the work, and if it weren’t for the rewriting of U.S. history that occurs in the novel — the worldbuilding of which is so mesmerizing and rich — you might forget you’re not reading an actual biography. Stay tuned for a longer standalone review of this novel, which I feel compelled to write for similar reasons CM is compelled to write her autobiography of X. I find that most mainstream reviews of the novel gloss over its queerness, treating it as mere surface-level detail, when this is in truth a book that queers genre, archives, history, and much more, and it seems absurd to consider the motives and choices of the character X without contextualizing them in the ideas of queer survival and performance.
Again, obviously there are plenty of novels worth championing and discussing from this year that aren’t on the list above. Shout out your favorites in the comments, and let’s make this a conversation.
Welcome to the best queer books of 2023! I am so excited to share with you all the excellent queer and trans literature that came out in 2023! Particularly impressive categories this year include memoir/biography, horror — queer and trans horror writers are appropriately giving us their all these days — and comics. There is more than one book on this list that I’ve declared an instant queer classic and I stand behind my assessments! There are, as always, many excellent books that did not make this list. Let’s dive into the ones that did.
Mimosa is the true heir to Alison Bechdel’s iconic Dykes to Watch Out For. This messy and oh-so-true-to-life story about a group of thirtysomething queer friends who are slowly growing apart is hilarious, sad, and one of the most authentic portrayals of queer friendship and queer parenthood out there. It’s an absolute must-read for anyone who loves messy queers, is a queer person in their thirties, or anyone who appreciates outstanding characterization. Check out more of Bongiovanni’s work including the comic Grease Bats, right here on Autostraddle.
With art equal parts extremely creepy and extremely gorgeous, Emily Carroll’s latest disarming horror tale is set in an idyllic lakeside town. Abby, a woman married to an older man whose first wife *apparently* died of cancer, begins to wonder if something more sinister actually happened. Carroll expertly draws out the suspense and mystery as Abby starts to see and interact with a ghost. Is the ghost Abby fighting, perhaps, homosexuality itself? The ending will leave you both terrified and puzzled.
The Girl That Can’t Get A Girlfriend is the Butch4Butch autobiographical manga of your dreams. In A. Tony Jerome’s review, they praise the manga for naming “the things you’re ashamed you did when you were trying to be loved” and for showing that “what you’ve been led to believe is proof of you being unlovable is the start of you learning that’s not true.” The book manages to tell the well worn story of first crush, first relationship, and first breakup in a fresh and unique way. It’s vulnerable, very funny, and surprisingly optimistic.
Never has a graphic novel so effectively straddled the lines between satire and horror than in this compelling final girl narrative that features trans feminine protagonist Sammie. Lubchansky ups the ante of terror expertly: At first, Sammie is dealing with constant microaggressions and navigating being asked to be a “best man”. Then, they discover a cult is slowly murdering and dismembering guests at the hotel where they’re staying. The book’s art and words perfectly balance the campy over-the-top futuristic Las Vegas-like setting with resonant emotional depth.
The epic team of cousins Tamaki and Tamaki have done it again with this lushly drawn — literally and figuratively — coming of gayge graphic novel about the delicate period between adolescence and adulthood. The black, white, lavender, and peach color palette of Jillian’s art pairs perfectly with the story of an old friendship undergoing growing pains. The dynamics of an added unexpected charismatic third party to this NYC reunion spring break trip are expertly captured in Mariko’s authentic dialogue. Roaming is an immersive, compelling read showing both Tamakis at the top of their game.
The Battle Drum is an utterly compelling queer high fantasy with African and Arabian roots, a feat even more impressive when you consider it’s the second in a series. Its three complicated women protagonists leap off the page as El-Arifi challenges them in their roles as leader, traveler, and detective. The book’s criticisms of colonialism are as fierce and passionate as its characters.
Sequel to the acclaimed political fantasy The Unbroken, The Faithless follows soldier Touraine and princess Luca as they reckon with tentative victory as imperial forces are retreating from the colonized Qazal. Clark smartly explores the messy and complicated process of undoing an empire and the complexities of reestablishing authentic leadership. The lead characters — and their relationship with each other— are just as fascinating and nuanced as the political intrigue.
In Heather Hogan’s glowing review for Hadeer Elsbai’s debut novel, she calls it “fantastical feminist queer rage.” “Not only full of awesome water-bending, fire-bending, earth-bending action,” she declares, “it’s a feminist dynamic [she’s] never seen before.” This slow-burn story is focused on two women — Nehal, a spoiled aristocrat and Giorgina, a poor bookseller — who connect through their shared feminist activism and magical abilities. With incredibly dynamic characters and a nail-biting cliff-hanger ending, we are lucky to know the sequel The Weavers of Alamaxa is due out in 2024.
Sequel to She Who Became the Sun, He Who Drowned the World is an impressive sophomore feat for Parker-Chan, whose intricate plotting and rich world-building are unparalleled. This novel set in the world of the imperial Chinese court is an epic political fantasy whose scenes of action and emotion are equally breath-taking. It’s also a book whose characters are the definition of complex. Despite the fact that He Who Drowned the World will hurt your soul, you’ll thank it.
Heather Hogan declares that A Day of Fallen Night is “the most satisfying queer and trans fantasy book [she’s] ever read.” Technically a prequel to The Priory of the Orange Tree, but readable as a standalone, the book is set in a “universe that’s bursting with complex, fully realized queer and trans characters.” Also: dragons. Centered on the lives of four women at different life stages, the story manages to be hopeful at the same time as it investigates issues like climate change, sexism, and an impending pandemic.
Lucky Red is a brilliant queer feminist reimagining of the western genre — complete with an ingenious narrative twist and stellar prose. Set in Dodge City in 1877, the story takes the setting of a brothel from its usual place as backdrop in the genre to its deserved place in center stage, filling the novel with nuanced and fascinating sex worker characters. Watching the protagonist Bridget evolve from a disillusioned 16-year-old orphan to a powerful woman with a thirst for vengeance is wonderful to witness.
2023 was the year Lex Croucher got themselves crowned as today’s queer Jane Austen, particularly as their books were released in quick succession in North America after earlier UK publication dates. Any of Croucher’s books could have been included on this list, but Infamous is a masterpiece of endless quick wit, with just the right amounts of romance, hijinks, self-discovery, and heart to round out the story. It is the sapphic Regency coming-of-age book queers deserve. Read my glowing review of Infamous!
Learned by Heart is a delightfully quiet, slow-burn tale set in 1805 York told through the eyes of Eliza Raine, a biracial Indian and British 14-year-old student at a school for young ladies. It’s unexpected and brilliant that Donoghue opts to tell the story from the perspective of Eliza, as her eventual love interest is the now iconic queer historical figure Anne Lister. Donoghue’s prose is sumptuous, and her pace deliciously languid as she explores Eliza’s experiences as an outsider and her burgeoning relationship with fellow misfit Lister.
In the decade since it was published, Nicola Griffith’s Hild has become the standard for excellent historical storytelling. Hild’s highly anticipated 2023 sequel, Menewood manages to somehow surpass its beloved predecessor with its rich seventh century British setting, epic scope, and the sheer beauty of Griffith’s language. Griffith simultaneously achieves meticulous historical accuracy while infusing the book’s bisexual lead character with as much warmth, strength, and complexity as if she were living today.
McGill’s beautifully crafted story set in the mid-Victorian period is a sequel of sorts to Mary Shelley’s iconic Frankenstein. It features an angry queer woman scientist stifled by her husband and society’s patriarchal notions about women’s intelligence. McGill’s characters — including a villain well worth hating — are wonderfully drawn, as are her explorations of the protagonist’s grief following her newborn’s death. Our Hideous Progeny is a worthy successor to Shelley’s ground-breaking science fiction masterpiece.
In K-Ming Chang’s trademark poetic prose, she tells the story of two women’s friendship as it manifests in their connection to a pack of wild dogs with whom they can communicate. But the novel doesn’t stop at portraying the beauty of intimacy; it also leans into its horrors as the protagonists are separated and one of their bodies begins to rot. Filled as much with entrails and body horror as with love and devotion, it’s impossible not to enjoy the disorienting experience of Organ Meats, just as Chang hopes we will. Check out Sa’iyda Shabazz’s interview with the author, where Chang discusses “feeling at home in the monstrous” and KKU’s review of the book.
Despite the truly enormous expectations on its shoulders, Elizabeth Hand’s A Haunting on the Hill manages to live up to them. This novel is the first authorized return to Shirley Jackson’s 1959 queer horror classic, The Haunting of Hill House. In the present day, struggling playwright Holly rents Hill House in order to workshop and rehearse her play; it’s a plan that, of course, goes horribly wrong. Hand deftly balances a timeless foreboding and eerie tone that permeates the whole novel with a distinctly contemporary story of longing, isolation, and ambition.
Natural Beauty is a satirical horror that brilliantly skewers the beauty and wellness industries, specifically their participation in white supremacy and anti-fatness. Told from the perspective of a queer prodigy pianist who quits music and begins working at a bizarre high-end wellness store, the novel is an ideal blend of body horror and surrealism. As Ling Ling Huang peels back the superficially beautiful layers of the store, the creepy and then truly menacing truth slowly appears. Huang’s hypnotic prose is the perfect amount of rough around the edges.
The Salt Grows Heavy is a strange, strange gory novella. This dark fairy tale features a land-faring, teeth-baring mermaid whose daughters have eaten the kingdom of the human man who forced her into marriage. Accompanying her on a journey is a nonbinary “plague doctor” who is more Frankenstein’s monster than human. Khaw proves themselves a master of body horror, producing prose that is fittingly equally gorgeous and disgusting. This is an exceptional retelling of The Little Mermaid that revels in darkness yet also spotlights the power of queer love.
2023 is the year that British author Alison Rumfitt stormed North American audiences with what she calls her “deeply personal, transgressive horror.” Brainwyrms, her second title released this year, is as fearless in its insistence on telling the truth about trans life today as it is terrifying in its investigation of TERFism and transphobia. Beginning with a transphobic bombing that leads to the protagonist’s intense relationship with a charismatic but suspicious woman, this story is set in near-future Britain where transphobes are literally hosts to a parasitic brain virus. The result is smart, grotesque, and horrifying.
Mostly set in Montreal, this collection of scintillating short stories is a deeply impressive exploration of the intertwined lives of a group of Black queer and trans friends. Troubling yet full of possibility, the stories investigate the strange contradictions in the characters’ lives, such as when two new lovers have fantastic sex…in the literal shadow of wax sculptures depicting their exes. Bah’s background as a photographer is on full display in their writing. The prose plays with mood and saturation, with a noticeable tweaking of reality and the French language the book is originally written in, brilliantly conveyed in Kama La Mackerel’s translation.
This novel about a queer South Asian rideshare driver scraping by in a Toronto-esque city is very funny, deliciously tense, and full of complex characters. As Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya’s review on Autostraddle declares, Your Driver Is Waiting is “[n]uanced in its character development and bold in its plotting, posses[ing] a scintillating alchemy. It’s an uppercut to the chin of a novel and an instantly memorable debut.” At the same time as readers will race through the page-turning thrills to find out what happens next, they’ll also slow down to savor Priya Guns’s remarkable prose. And what a perfectly open-ended yet conclusive ending!
In Abeni’s review of Hazel Jane Plante’s latest novel, she calls it a “sexy, ambitious” book that “explores transition and transformation.” Structurally inventive — it is divided into Side A and Side B as if it’s a mixed tape — the book is alternately sad and hot, as it explores the life of fictional trans musician Tracy St. Cyr at two key periods. Any Other City is not only a soaring celebration of trans femmes but of the beautiful and necessary art and music they make.
Chlorine would be equally at home in the horror section of this list, but it’s also an extremely compelling work of coming-of-age literary fiction. Told retroactively from the protagonist Ren’s adult perspective, the story is an astute investigation of the complexities of immigration, bisexuality, and mermaid mythology, as well as a searing critique of patriarchal control of women’s bodies. The book oozes with evocative water images, from the chlorinated pools Ren spends her teenage days in to her dreams of dark and mysterious deep sea creatures.
Only Zoe Whittall could write a novel about being the victim of a scammer that is equally sad, funny, and sexy. The novel’s unknowable center is Cammie, whom Shelby meets in a support group she’s joined after the death of her wife. When Shelby meets Gibson, a recently divorced guy who has been dating Cammie, the two realize that Cammie has been telling them vastly different versions of her life. In, KKU’s review, she calls the book “fast-paced, grief-steeped, [and] delectable” with “significant tension, suspense, and an unsolvable mystery at [its] core.”
Part memoir and part trans manifesto, Miss Major Speaks reads like being privy to an intimate conversation with a living icon of Black, queer, trans, and sex worker liberation. It’s the conversational format of the book — Miss Major being interviewed by her friend Toshio Meronek — that lends the book its intimacy, as well as its consistent allure. It’s engaging, compelling, candid, and an absolute must-read. All queer and trans readers owe it to themselves and queer history to soak up Miss Major’s advice, life story, and to be reminded that she “didn’t get to 80 years old being sweet and gentle. [She’s] no flower. Fuck that. [She’s] a cactus – get over it.”
Hijab Butch Blues is quite simply a new classic of queer literature, just like its allusive title implies. Lamya H’s smart and compassionately written memoir is structured thematically by prophets of Islam, intertwining their personal history and journeys with interpretations of the prophets’ stories. Every chapter is incredibly moving and unfailingly surprising in the ways in which it connects Quran passages with Lamya’s life. In Stef Rubino’s review on Autostraddle, they note that “Lamya’s ability to bring seemingly disparate elements together to paint such a vivid picture of what it’s like to have to make the choices they’ve made in the ways they’ve made them is absolutely stunning in its execution.”
One of the most anticipated books on trans life possibly ever, Elliot Page’s memoir is a coming-of-age story that follows his ascent as an actor and the wild ride thereafter. Stef Rubino writes in their review that the nonlinear structure of the memoir is an “undoing the fracturing of his life caused by external pressures and internal self-punishment.” The memoir’s sometimes deliberate elusiveness establishes the book as the one Page wanted to write: “a story of growing up, of becoming, of transforming and surviving, but one of choosing to live and to fight for that life, even when the costs are higher than anyone could possibly imagine.”
Amelia Possanza’s debut hybrid memoir reaches back into the archives to tell us stories about lesbians in the past, in order to inform her own present. Through the histories she shares, Possanza explores her own experiences with coming out, gender and gender expression, and finding and maintaining relationships. The effect, Stef Rubino writes, is “reflective, … where we see how Possanza’s own life experiences connect to the lives of the people in the book while also making us contemplate the ways we’re connected, as well.” It’s a crucial tool not only for self-reflection, but for today’s organizing.
Journalist and Black trans activist Raquel Willis’s memoir is an iconic chronicle of her fascinating life so far, both the political and the personal. Willis is equally at home conversationally sharing details of her sparkling social life and history in the drag community as she is writing serious, somber reflections on the challenges of activism and transphobic violence. Her sociopolitical analysis of how the larger structures of racism and transphobia have affected her is as compelling as her vulnerability and honesty in the telling of her story.
This absorbing historical literary thriller is set in the 1970s in a small Texas town to which a closeted woman in her late 20s, Lou, has returned. Rachel Cochran elegantly balances the murder mystery — Lou’s surrogate mom and elderly neighbor Miss Kate is suddenly killed — with a nuanced depiction of Lou’s struggles to reconnect with Kate’s estranged daughter, who was Lou’s first love. The Gulf is a captivating slow-burn of a story, with delicately drawn-out character exploration.
Number three in Robyn Gigl’s legal thriller series about a bi trans woman attorney is another winner. In the latest installment, Gigl really challenges her protagonist Erin by putting her on the other side of the interrogation table when she is the last person to see one of her clients alive. The plotting in this one is extra tricky and sinister, but the characters remain utterly down-to-earth and achingly real. For a rollicking good page-turning read with excellent, well-drawn trans characters, you can’t do better than Remain Silent.
Cari Hunter’s latest Northern England-set mystery is a reintroduction to the character of Detective Jo Shaw, and boy is it a reintroduction: the novel begins with an adrenaline rush, with Jo rushing out to respond to a brutal stabbing, risking her career to save the woman’s life. The book slows down for a while, during which Hunter provides a fascinating exploration of Jo’s former relationship with a trauma surgeon who left her 15 years ago. But the case picks back up with exhilarating speed at the end to a shocking but satisfying conclusion. Here’s to more books in this intended new series!
Book two in the Halcyon Division series, Leverage begins with an odd mystery: its intelligence analyst protagonist, Lexie, has been strangely set free after exposing a senior government official’s involvement with the Russians. While the pace slows down for a spell as Noyes lures Lexie into a false sense of security — and allows for some fun for her who is officially dating her sort-of- girlfriend from book one — the ending comes in with a highly unexpected bang, leaving readers dying for the next installment.
The second book in Rosen’s historical mystery series starring gay ex-cop-turned-P.I. Andy Mills is somehow even more compelling than its excellent predecessor, Lavender House. With an entertaining, diverse cast of characters rooted in the 1950s San Francisco’s queer community and a smart interrogation of Andy’s background as a police officer, the engaging plot — a seemingly simple case of blackmail turned very complex — is the cherry on top. Rosen also excels at integrating fascinating queer history seamlessly into the story. Run, don’t walk, to this mystery!
This powerful anthology centers BIPOC and queer perspectives with the aim of undoing the overtaking of a movement started by a Black woman, Tarana Burke, with an image almost exclusively white and heterosexual. In their Autostraddle review, Nico emphasizes that Unsafe Words is “challenging in the best ways” and that sometimes its essays, “like haunting short stories, asked more questions than they answered.” The book’s commitments to a queer abolitionist framework and community building are as empowering as its insistence on asking hard questions and not shying away from nuance or complexity.
As Stef Rubino points out in their review of Moby Dyke , the conversation on disappearing lesbian bars in the U.S. is not new. Krista Burton, however, manages to make this book a fresh take on an old conversation by “decid[ing] that to really understand why there are so few lesbian bars around now, she should visit 20 of the bars that remain open to try to understand why so many of them have closed.” The result is a refreshingly optimistic and page-turning work of nonfiction that “give[s] us more reasons to keep believing in the power of collectivity and community and getting together with your queer siblings and partners at your local spot at the end of a tough ass day.” Cheers to that!
Community! Is there a thornier topic in queer and trans life? Readers are in the best of hands with Casey Plett’s book-length essay about community: as a word, as a concept, as a symbol, and as a lived experience. Plett deftly discusses the intricacies of community’s benefits and flaws, from her own experiences as a member of many disparate communities: the Mennonite religious and ethnic group, her fellow trans folks, the writing and publishing world, roommates, neighborhoods, Canadian and American national identities, and more. It’s an endlessly engaging and moving read that will make you, perhaps surprisingly, optimistic about the idea of community after all.
There’s not much more you could ask of a book than for it to “make you believe another life is possible”; but this is exactly what Stef Rubino says Jenn Shapland’s new work of nonfiction will do. Thin Skin is a collection of essays whose topics range from chronic illness and racial capitalism to the possibilities of a childfree queer life. The book is a “masterful, incisive, and intellectually moving piece of work,” both in its commitment to engaging in incredibly difficult conversations and to, as Stef puts it, “make the revolution irresistible.” Read an exclusive excerpt from Thin Skin on Autostraddle!
In this incredibly moving collection of love letters to lost souls, Kai Cheng Thom faces the challenges mounting against her “belief that every human being, no matter how hateful or horrible, is intrinsically sacred.” Her effort to get back to the place of love she alludes to in the title results in a breathtaking book of formally diverse pieces — letters, prayers, spells, poems — that channel her grief and rage. It’s impossible not to be inspired by her simultaneous generosity and fierceness, as well as the sheer beauty of her words. This is another book on this list that has already achieved queer classic status.
Lillian-Yvonne Bertram’s lyrical and dense poetry collection Negative Money touches on themes of Blackness, gender identity, the body, money, AI, and more, all while playfully experimenting with form. A series of visual poetry called “World Map” is an unexpected and gorgeous collaboration with graphic designer Yaya Chanawichote; other pieces are crafted in Jericho Brown’s newly created form “duplexes; and still others creatively use alphabetical arrangement. Pick up this book and “[s]hake the rattles of our jazz.”
KB Brookins’s debut full-length poetry collection is a knockout that asks so many important questions: how to be Black, queer, and trans in a world that refuses these identities? How to build a future and engage in Afrofuturism in the face of climate change? What are the connections between poetry and freedom? Using a clever and unique form that structures the book in four parts named after rooms in a house, Freedom House is not only a discussion of big issues, but a manifestation itself of the free space it calls for for Black, queer, and trans people. And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Brookins’s humor, delightfully sprinkled throughout.
This chapbook from acclaimed poet Chen Chen features, as A. Tony Jerome writes in their round-up of new queer poetry books, “one of the gayest covers I’ve ever witnessed and we should share in that joyous celebration together.” Lucky for us the poems live up to the cover. They are full of Chen’s trademark humor, playfulness, and joy, tinged sometimes with a melancholy or sadness that aches at the same time as Chen’s words soothe. The book is a testament to the beauty in the world despite everything; but as Chen puts it:“The world is beautiful is always / an exaggeration. But it’s the heart’s favorite sentence. / Favorite demand.”
Speaking from Sunu P. Chandy’s myriad experiences as a queer woman, civil rights attorney, mother, partner, and daughter of South Asian immigrants, her poetry in this collection offer a kind of community, a solace in not being alone despite feelings of isolation or loneliness. There is a stalwart optimism to the poems that insists on the beauty of beginning anew and on the human capacity to rebuild. Chandy experiments with diary-like prose in many of the longer poems, infusing them with a deep sense of self-reflection.
Written while quarantined at an arts center in the early days of the Covid pandemic and going through a breakup, Lucas Crawford’s latest collection of poems refuses to look away from the messy realities of queer pleasure and desire, health, depression, and trans masculinities. Searching for his own “muster points,” in the wake of disaster and its underwhelming and insufficient language, Crawford looks inward as well as to community. Despite serious content about upheaval and isolation, though, Crawford isn’t afraid to be silly or playful, as perhaps best embodied in one poem titled “A Better Poem About Peanut Butter.” This approach makes for a wonderfully balanced collection.
Heather Hogan’s “favorite sapphic romance of the year,” Fly with Me, is a delightful tale full of beloved romance tropes: unusual meet cute on a plane! Last minute gay road trip! Fake relationship to save their careers! But it’s also, in Heather’s words, “about love that blossoms in a shower of tears.” Both leads are dealing with grief after losing a family member, and the nurse character, Olive, is dealing with the aftermath of working through the pandemic during its early days. Burke manages to center a nuanced look at grief while also maintaining the book’s sexiness and humor.
Set in 1889 in Paris, this wonderful sapphic Latina romance is a love story between an artist and a duchess. The two women’s swoony, steamy romance is perfectly balanced by fascinating historical context and secondary characters and side plots, including the joys of found family, queer history, the labor movement, and more! Each lead character has a complex backstory and a moving personal journey. Plus, Adriana Herrera’s sex scenes will have you fanning yourself with one of those old-fashioned 19th century fans.
The tagline for this utterly delightful graphic novel is that it is “equal parts romance, softball, and drama”; this is true, but it doesn’t quite get at how magical — literally and figuratively — this queer softball romance is. Deliciously campy and very horny, this messy story of three women, one of whom is maybe starting to date the ex of her ex / rival who is also a full-fledged “magical girl,” is so. much. fun. The art style is appropriately whimsical, and the jokes and puns are terrifically vulgar. Read this book to fill the League of Their Own hole in your heart.
In Christina Tucker’s review on Autostraddle of Sorry, Bro, she calls the novel an “unexpected delight” that is “light and charming,” ideal for the escape via bisexual romance we all need once in a while. The book’s humor and charisma are matched by Taleen Voskuni’s “gorgeous … simple, unaffected” prose that elevates protagonist Nareh’s everyday experiences to the extraordinary. Voskuni’s focus on the importance of Nareh’s Armenian culture is a welcome addition to traditionally published queer women’s fiction, as is her choice to feature a “closed door” romance with sex scenes off the page. There is truly no other romance out there like Sorry, Bro!
Christina Tucker declares The Fixer to be “[s]low burn lesbian romance at its finest,” in her review of the book; it’s such a slow burn that the story continues over into a sequel, Chaos Agent also reviewed by Christina. Now that is a bold choice, only one that renowned lesbian romance author, Lee Winter, who specializes in the “ice queen,” could pull off. The Fixer’s two polar opposite leads — one a perpetual do-gooder activist and the other a CEO of a shady company — are expertly drawn, the subplot is stellar, and the chemistry is simmering.
Anyone who likes their queer science fiction blended with horror will love this suspenseful story set aboard a generation spaceship. Ness Brown sets a scene that’s already terrible enough — the ship’s inhabitants are retreating back to Earth after a failed attempt to save humanity from extinction — but things go from bad to worse when the crew members start gruesomely dying. Brown excels at creating a terrifying, suffocating atmosphere with characters you can root for and an excellent enemies-to-friends B plot.
Yashwina’s Autostraddle review of Mac Crane’s debut calls it an immediate “hall-of-famer.” The book is indeed an instant classic, a dystopian science fiction story that manages to stand out in a sea of other dystopian novels, particularly in its “insistence upon character” and its ferocious, unflinching world building. Yash particularly praises Crane for their ability to depict the complex interiorities of “the kid” character. Crane manages to convey the complex joys of queer parenthood amidst a scathing indictment of bigotry and discrimination in a surveillance state, while alluding to the possibilities of abolition. Gen Greer interviewed Crane about the book and upcoming projects for Autostraddle.
These Burning Stars is a superb work of space opera science fiction by any measure, but the fact that it’s a debut makes it that much more impressive. Bethany Jacobs’ action scenes jump off the page, the world building is creative and immersive, and the twists are wild and unpredictable. And then there are the engaging women characters! The book’s careful investigations of themes like politics, genocide, revenge, and empire are also riveting.
The Deep Sky is a science fiction thriller with a unique twist on the mission to save humanity: all of the crew of a spaceship are cis women and trans/nonbinary people assigned female at birth, as their end goal is to populate a new planet. Fertility, miscarriage, and pregnancy are themes rarely found in science fiction, let alone explored with care, but Yume Kitasei succeeds here. The novel also includes a thoughtful investigation of queer relationships, racism, and mixed-race identities, while featuring a rich mystery and big questions about the meaning of life and what it might look like beyond Earth.
The Mimicking of Known Successes is a soothing, cozy science fiction mystery that exceeds the expectations of its various genre affiliations — romance in addition to cozy mystery and science fiction — while also succeeding as an engaging Sherlock Holmes retelling. The protagonist and sidekick/co-investigator are Watson and Holmes, but they’re also college ex-girlfriends unexpectedly working together to solve a mystery amidst human settlements on the planet Jupiter. Malka Older excels at creating an appropriately hopeful yet somber tone, as well as balancing action and adventure with subtle character work, all within the space of a novella. Read my full review on Autostraddle!
Sa’iyda Shabazz writes in her Autostraddle review of Forget Me Not that the novel is, above all, a great second chance romance. This is not the usual unfolding of the trope though: Stevie, who has had a secret relationship with her girlfriend of two years, Nora, has had a terrible fall which has erased the last two years of her memory. She doesn’t remember being in love at all; Nora is left with plans to run away with a girlfriend who doesn’t know who she is. Expertly alternating between the two girls’ perspective, Alyson Derrick uses the device of memory loss — often relegated to outlandish soap opera plots — with delicacy and emotional heft. It’s a delightful love story that made Sa’iyda “believe fate is real.”
For sheer celebratory queer energy, there is nothing like Camryn Garrett’s Friday I’m in Love, a YA novel in which Mahalia, a bi Black teen, decides to throw herself a coming out party despite big financial constraints. The novel excels at capturing “the heady experience of a teenager falling for someone,” Sa’iyda Shabazz points out in her Autostraddle review. Queer love! Queer parties! A queer Black character impossible not to love! Garrett, however, effectively adds some emotional weight in her integration of themes of poverty and class, as well as addressing religious homophobia. It’s the perfect balance for a contemporary YA.
The Luis Ortega Survival Club is a fiercely feminist revenge story about a queer autistic Latina teen who finds friendship, support, and new romance when she is offered membership to a group of girls at her school who have all been sexually assaulted by the same guy. The protagonist Ariana is a lovely fully rounded character whose selective mutism is portrayed thoughtfully. Sonora Reyes deals just as carefully with the complex issues of consent and rape culture, while shining a light on the power of community and peer survivor support. This is a powerful novel full of appropriate rage, but also hope and healing.
I am going to go ahead and quote myself here from my review of 6 Times We Almost Kissed by saying this novel is “a searing look at grief, parental illness and death, rural medical access, trauma, and mental health. At the same time, it manages to be a swoony romance that will have you cheering for these two queer teen girls.” Tess Sharpe is at the top of her game in her latest book, combining her trademark rich characterization with expert pacing, fun nods to fanfic, and an emotionally resonant, page-turning plot. This is a book packed with compassion and nuance, as well as a nail-biting, slow burn romantic plot.
For a book whose present day story is unfolding during the last nine days before an asteroid hits and destroys Earth, If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come is a surprisingly hopeful story. This tone, achieved by the protagonist’s journey realizing “she can live on her own terms” is especially meaningful for a character struggling with depression and suicidal ideation, as Sa’iyda Shabazz points out in her review for Autostraddle. It’s a heartbreaking book, perhaps all the more so because of how engaging and authentic its characters are; but it’s also a comforting read that will put your heart back together.
In this superb alternate-history fantasy, a 15-year-old bi girl is sent to a magical school to learn how to train dragons. But it’s a colonizer-run academy whose methods Anequs soon finds herself chafing against. This YA novel is for anyone looking for a truly new take on dragons, a passionate heroine to root for, and a Indigenous lens on common YA Western-rooted fantasy tropes like the chosen one, magical schools, dragons, and more. (Moniquill Blackgoose is an enrolled member of the Seaconke Wampanoag Tribe). To Shape a Dragon’s Breath is as fun as it is smart and thoughtful.
Centered on a nonbinary Seminole teen named Gem, H.E. Edgmon’s latest contemporary YA fantasy is a wonderfully strange and dark tale about reincarnated teen gods at war. Gem’s journey discovering they are a god whose past deeds have earned them a lot of enemies is the villain story you didn’t know you needed. Three cheers for morally gray hybrid god-teenagers who love fiercely and deal with their pain and trauma in understandably weird ways! Godly Heathens is a series starter that will have all its readers wild for the next installment.
In this unique and engaging paranormal novel about the complexities of love and relationships, a queer trans teen guy struggles with his best friend and (ghost) boyfriend not getting along. Markus Harwood-Jones cleverly uses the narrative possibilities of the ghost story to explore issues of consent, toxic relationships, possessiveness, and boundaries. They allow their richly developed teen characters to breathe, make mistakes, and be messy. It’s a gift for queer and trans teens — and any ghost boy/girl/theyfriends they may or may not have.
Jamison Shea’s debut slow-burn horror novel has a premise so fresh it stands shoulders above other YA speculative fiction: Laure is a queer Black teen ballet dancer determined to succeed despite the systemic racism she’s facing. She is so ambitious that she descends to the Catacombs of Paris and arranges a sinister deal with a throbbing river of blood. The book is even more than a gripping villain origin story, though; it’s an exceptional rumination on institutional exclusion and discrimination and the pitfalls of loving an industry that returns your devotion with hate.
Set in 1880s London, this hybrid horror-fantasy-historical novel is a truly harrowing piece of fiction that does not hold back when it comes to portraying a period in time where horrific medical experimentation took place. Andrew Joseph White is incandescent in his melding of three genres, the viciousness of the body horror, and the novel’s commitment to shedding light on historical evils and their present-day connections. The book’s trans and autistic teen protagonist, Silas, is as real and memorable as someone you met yesterday, and his eventual triumph — and t4t love! — in an uphill battle against the oppressive norms of the Victorian era are a joy to witness.
What were your favorite reads from 2023? Please share in the comments!
I get asked a lot about how to introduce themes of queerness to young children since I’m a mom, and there’s one thing I always say: books! For young children, books are one of the best ways to introduce themes or concepts that they may not see in their everyday lives. You can return to them time and time again and always find something new to talk about. Reading picture books was a way I connected with my son when he was a preschooler, and I was able to teach him about things like racism, empathy and of course, LGBTQ+ issues.
Trying to explain concepts of gender expression is hard when you don’t have anything concrete to point to. That’s where picture books can come in handy! I’ve rounded up some great picture books that introduce concepts like gender expression and being trans for young readers.
It’s time for kindergarten picture day, and Molly is so excited! She’s looking forward to being able to hang her picture on the wall, but there’s one thing that she’s not excited about: wearing a dress. Her mom has picked out a “nice” dress, but Molly knows exactly what she wants to wear: her brother’s old tuxedo. But Mom doesn’t think Molly should wear the tuxedo; she thinks the dress is a better idea. Molly has to figure out how to stand up for what she wants and show her mom who she is.
Pink is for everyone, and blue is too! This picture book allows children to expand their understanding of gender by showing them colors exist outside of the binary. This is great for preschool and kinder-aged kids (and their grown-ups too!). My son loved this one when his kindergarten teacher read it to the class.
This book was popular in my house. Penelope knows he’s a boy. (He’s also a skateboarding ninja.) He has the support of his family to show them and the world just who he is and what makes him special. This is actually based on the author’s son, which gives it an extra special layer.
This is the story of a nonbinary kid named Avi and their doll Skye. According to Avi, Skye is genderless, even though Avi’s sister puts Skye in dresses and crowns and Avi’s brother puts Skye in camo or pirate clothes. Avi realizes the fluidity of Skye’s expression, even though their dad tells them that everyone is either a boy or a girl. Because of this, Avi begins to worry that if they don’t make a decision about whether or not Skye is a boy or girl that their family will reject Skye, and by extension Avi. Their family does come around though, telling Avi that they can be whoever they feel they are and dress accordingly.
A little Black girl is ready for a new hairstyle, and she knows exactly what she wants: the freshest fade she can get. But everyone, including her mother, is trying to talk her out of it, showing her a variety of other hairstyles that demonstrate the versatility of Black hair. She stands firm in her desire for a fade, and in the end is allowed to get the freshest fade on the block!
This story is from the perspective of the sibling of a trans kid, but it messes with the trope a bit. Instead of being unsupportive and learning to accept their sibling’s transition, the sibling in this story makes it clear from the beginning that she’s a staunch ally for her sibling. It also puts the onus on the reader for the biases they may hold about trans kids. Throughout the story, she asks children where her brother is, and as they begin to freak out, she shuts them down. In the end, she talks openly about having a sister now and the only thing that’s changed is her name and her clothes.
Nicki is so excited her Aunt Carmela is getting married, and she can’t wait to be the flower girl. But when her mom and Aunt Carmela take her shopping for her flower girl dress, Nicki isn’t so sure she still wants the job. Everything changes when her dad offers to buy her a suit and a bow tie.
Susan is really excited to have a little sister who she can play dress up and fairies with. Except her little sister doesn’t want to play fairies or wear dresses — she wants to wear ties and play with bugs! As Jackie gets older, Susan and her parents realize that Jackie’s love of bugs and ties and her desire to have short hair and be called Jack means that she’s trying to tell them something important.
Annie’s plaid shirt is her most favorite article of clothing; she wears it everywhere. When her mom tells her that she has to wear a dress to her uncle’s wedding, Annie is upset. She hates dresses. Her mom insists on her wearing a dress until Annie comes up with a better plan. She can wear her plaid shirt and wear a suit for the wedding instead!
Kai is a nonbinary kiddo, and they have a cat named Sky who accepts them exactly as they are. Some people are confused by their nonbinary identity, but Sky and Kai’s other friends are there to make sure they feel accepted and understood. This book doesn’t have a clear cut story, but it’s a great explainer of what it’s like to be a nonbinary kid.
Although this is currently in negative flux as I write this, my ability to teach what I want in my classrooms has rarely ever been challenged. For 11 years, I was given the immense privilege to dictate my curriculum, choose my themes and essential questions and anchor texts for my classes, and to design opportunities for my students to discuss uncomfortable topics and work through solutions to some of society’s greatest problems with one another. I did this in the public school where I started my career, and I’ve been doing this at the private school where I’m teaching (for) now.
When I decided to become a high school English teacher, I dedicated myself to making sure my students understood the real, hard truths about our world, and I knew that through difficult conversations and radical reimaginings, they could learn to use their power to challenge the systems that make it so hard for so many of us to live. As an avid reader and lover of literature, I believe that stories provide an easy pathway to this, not just because they help us understand and empathize with the joys and struggles of people who live outside of our own experiences but also because literature has always been a tool of resistance used to challenge the status quo. Stories form and shape our world, they tell us where we’ve been and show us where we can go, they help us recognize the power we have to act on our beliefs, stand up for what we want, and they allow us to move beyond our own conceptions of the truth to see that maybe our reality is not the only “correct” one. Even through the ups and downs of my career and through the personal attacks and censorship I’m facing right now, I’ve always believed very strongly that the right book can change the trajectory of a young person’s life for the better because so many books did that for me. Stories provided my young self with a kind of freedom I couldn’t (and can’t) get in the real world, and as a result, I’ve spent the majority of my life organizing to make that freedom available to all of us all the time.
As our Editor in Chief Carmen Phillips reported earlier this week, book bans rose in the U.S. in 2022 by a massive 45.5%. But if you know anything about this nation’s history, you know book bans — or more specifically, their counterpart, literacy bans — are not new here. Trying to keep people away from stories that might help them strategize, organize, and resist the powers in control of those people is a tactic older than the U.S. itself. Even though one of the only books that was readily available everywhere in the colonized “New World” was the Bible, its contents were enough to keep as many enslaved West African people as possible from ever reading it. The white ruling class understood the power of the stories in that book — Moses freeing the Abraham’s descendants from Egypt, Daniel escaping the lion’s den, Jesus revolting against people in power and ultimately dying “for us” to “free us” from the shackles of sin and oppression. Instead, preachers would pick apart and skew the stories to try to convince the enslaved that the bondage they were experiencing was ordained by their good, Christian God. I remember learning about this in middle school and whispering to my best friend, “If I couldn’t read anything, I think I would just die.” Dramatic, but I think young Stef was tapping into something. Reading gave me power, and I could see that taking it away from people was an attempt to strip them of theirs. Learning to read then was an act of resistance punishable by death that many enslaved people took on willingly and it helped lead to other forms of resistance, as well. You only need to look at the story of Nat Turner to know that this is true.
As time went on after eventual emancipation, attempts to block Black people’s access to literacy continued, especially in the South (also in the North, but I know y’all don’t like to talk about it). In fact, literacy was so low among Black people in the South that the white ruling class was able to create laws that prevented Black people from voting unless they could show they were literate. This continued on until the Voting Rights Act made it illegal for states to do this, but we never stopped using literacy tests for people to gain full rights as citizens in this country. We still use them when immigrants undergo their “naturalization” interviews. Really, nothing has ever truly changed here, has it? It just morphs, evolves, becomes something that feels new even though it’s very, very old. Because racial capitalism is the foundation for all of the institutions in this country, we’ve found other ways to attempt to keep Black people, people of color, and poor white people from gaining full access to the worlds the ruling class wants to prevent them from accessing.
Of course, banning books from schools and libraries is not the same as preventing people from learning how to read. In fact, I’ve heard the argument that we shouldn’t even call them book bans because it’s “not as if the bans prevent people from going to the store to buy these books.” But that’s not the point. And I’m not trying to conflate them. They are related through a common purpose which is to keep certain knowledge, certain opportunities to know and see themselves, and certain beliefs away from the growing minds of young people who might one day see they’re able to resist if they want to. Simply put, if the ruling class did not believe that book bans actually accomplish something — either materially or ideologically or both — they wouldn’t waste their time with them. They do, though, and they do because they know it’ll prevent many kids, especially kids with marginalized identities, from obtaining those texts. And they know it’ll make many white people angry at the (false) idea that their children are “discomfited” by these materials. We have never and will never be fighting a battle over the actual stories written in these texts…the small group of people who challenge these texts and the small group of politicians who support these bans are fighting to prevent young people from confronting the systemic oppression that governs all of our lives.
Over the course of my life and my career, I’ve had the great privilege of being changed by so many stories, and I’ve been able to turn some of those stories over to the hands of my students to see what they might do with them and how they might grow from them. I’ve watched whole lives transform in my classrooms and outside of them because of the stories we read, because of the work we did together, because of our difficult and revelatory and compassionate conversations, and because we were never afraid to face the truth. For this Banned Books Week, I thought I’d bring you into my classroom for a moment. I’ve scoured PEN America’s Banned Books data from the last couple of years and noticed many books I’ve taught and many books I consider favorites on the lists. I know some stories are powerful enough to change the trajectory of our lives or, at the very least, shift our perspectives entirely. I don’t know if these will have that exact effect on you, but I wanted to share some of the stories on those lists that have changed me, inspired me, helped me grow, and gave me the tools to help young people do the same.
Feels wild to say that I’ve actually used all three of these books in my English classes over the years, along with a couple of others from Morrison. I’m actually in the throes of reading and discussing Beloved with AP English Language & Composition class as this is being published. There is nothing I can say about Morrison concisely that can fully explain the magic and brutality and beauty of her prose, her storytelling, and her ability to build arguments within the fictional realms of her texts. She knew and understood more about how the world turns than most people ever will, and we all should try to learn from her.
Fun Home is, without a doubt, one of the books that helped me talk about and process the realities of being a queer teen after I wasn’t one anymore. I first read it in 2008, two years after its release, and I remember feeling that slight tinge of sadness that comes when you wish something was available to you much sooner in your life.
I don’t think either of these are perfect texts. They certainly don’t do the kind of radical analysis and theorization about our society that I’m drawn to now or that I think we really need. But when Alexander’s book came out in 2010, it gave me a quick lesson in a starter vocabulary that would help my anti-carceral beliefs bloom more fully. And when Dunbar-Ortiz’s book came out in 2014, it provided more fuel for a fire that was already burning inside of me regarding how Americans treat (actually, don’t treat) the atrocities of our history. They’ve had a similar impact on some of my students over the years.
Although I typically think of Roy as an organizer first and a novelist second, it’s hard for me to sum up how morally arduous (in a good way) my reading of The God of Small Things was in my late teens. I was lucky to have a good professor who both assigned it and led my class through some of the most illuminating discussions of my entire time in both my undergraduate and graduate programs. It’s a damning critique of the impacts of British colonialism in India and the strength it takes to survive the grotesque institutions that collide into the lives of the people who had to live through it.
What can I say here? It’s Baldwin. If you haven’t read it, you need to. I’ve made hundreds of young people do it, and I believe you can, too. And then, when you’re done, you need to tell other people to read it, too. Preferably along with everything else he’s written.
The scope and artfulness of this (debut!) novel is truly a force to be reckoned with. I had the wonderful opportunity to read this in a book club format with a group of students upon its release in 2016, and we were all stunned by it. Yes, even me, one of two adults in the group. Homegoing takes us from the beginning of chattel slavery in Ghana to the U.S. in its infancy to the Great Migration to Harlem in the jazz age to the beginnings of the NAACP and beyond. It is just an incredibly meticulous set of stories that grips you from the start and doesn’t let you go.
(As an added bonus for the students of that book club and me, we were able to meet Gyasi that year and ask her some questions about the book, and it was a moment I truly cherish.)
I was extremely surprised to see these two pop up in PEN America’s data, and because I love them both so much for reasons that are much different than a lot of the others, I wanted to include them. These are both newer books, but they have really expanded and enlightened my imagination on how memoir and nonfiction can be written, presented, and transformed through the thoughtful and meditative combination of prose and graphic art. I know that is a boring, writer-y reason for loving a couple of books so much, but that’s just my truth.
The AP English Literature & Composition teacher at my school claimed this novel as part of his curriculum a while ago, so I’ve never had the privilege to use it in my class but I’ve wished I could include it. I read The Color Purple before I even got to the first available AP English class in high school on the recommendation of my journalism teacher (who I’m convinced knew I was queer before I even told him), and I instantly fell in love with it. How could you not? It isn’t an easy read but it is among one of the most rewarding.
Weird coincidence, but I read this in the same college class I mentioned before. I think sometimes people hear the concept of this novel and assume it’s something different than it actually is and that’s what was and is so most captivating about it to me. It truly defies all expectations. What at first feels like a novel about the sacrifices people are, sometimes, forced to make to care for others quickly becomes a commentary on the ways the government creates systems and responsibilities to distract us from resistance and keeps us complacent.
I read this book upon its release in October 2018. That December, I gifted it to one of my best friends for his birthday. In the spring of 2019, I included in my list of summer reading choices for my class. It’s still on that list because it’s a book I return to again and again and again. I don’t think I’ve known a single adult or young person who didn’t think this book was both challenging and extremely life-affirming. I’ll be going back to it as both a writer and a student for the rest of my life, I think.
Not to be South Florida about this, but this book really helped me begin to understand the nuanced nature of political life here a little better when I first read it as a young person. Even though Miami only plays a bit part in the lives of the Cuban family in the novel, it provides an intimate look at their during and after the Cuban Revolution, how it divides and shapes various family members’ understandings of the world, and how challenging the powers that be sometimes means we have to stand up to people we love. This is another one I’ve had on my summer reading choices for a long time and one that always has a ton of young fans.
These are vastly different novels, but they both provide vital and radical messages about our society that people should be interacting with. Kindred provides a harrowing look at how our unwillingness to truly confront and challenge the horrors of American history has created a rift in how we interact with our past that keeps us trapped in it without recognizing how we are. And Parable of the Sower provides insight into how we can leverage the power of community to not only survive the worst possible circumstances but also stay resilient in the face of cruelties we cannot possibly imagine. A perfect example of stories showing us where we’ve been and where we have the power to go.
Autostraddle is honoring Banned Books Week 2023! For more information, visit BannedBooksWeek.org.
It’s Banned Books Week! The official marking of Banned Books week first began in 1982, in response to a then-surge in the number of challenges to books in libraries, bookstores, and schools tied to an also rise in social conservatism. Sound familiar? The annual event is designed to highlight “the value of free and open access to information and brings together the entire book community — librarians, educators, authors, publishers, booksellers, and readers of all types — in shared support of the freedom to seek and to express ideas.”
I’m assuming that you don’t live under a rock, so you already know that book challenges and book bans have once again become a battleground of choice for extreme right wing conservatives — creating not only the largest crisis over free speech and education in more than a generation, but also an environment where queer children, trans children, and children of color are not able to see or learn about themselves during key developmental stages of their life.
These type of moral panics and culture wars aren’t new. And I use the word “extreme” here purposefully when talking about those who are pushing for book bans. In June, a report from The Washington Post found that just 11 people were responsible for more than 60% of book challenges in the 2021-22 school year! ELEVEN! That’s all.
It’s minuscule, really, which is somehow both hilarious and terrifying? That such a small group could have such an outsized impact.
According to that report, “nearly half of filings — 43 percent — targeted titles with LGBTQ characters or themes, while 36 percent targeted titles featuring characters of color or dealing with issues of race and racism.” To put a timeline on it, from “the 2000s to the early 2010s, LBTQ books were targets of between less than 1 and 3 percent of book challenges filed in schools… That number rose to 16 percent by 2018, 20 percent in 2020, and 45.5 percent in 2022.” Let that sink in.
The good news is that if just 11 people can create an environment centered on such pain and chaos, then most certainly we can turn it back. I’m willing to bet there are more than 11 people reading this article right now. Every book on this list comes from either the American Library Association yearly tracking or the PEN America Index of School Book Bans. And so while organizations like PEN America, alongside parents, authors, and the publisher Penguin Random House, are filing federal lawsuits to challenge the removal and restrictions of books from school libraries as a violation of free speech — we can do our part and get reading.
According to the American Library Association, Maia Kobabe’s (who uses e/em/eir pronouns) memoir Gender Queer was the most banned book last year. From the book description, what “started as a way to explain to eir family what it means to be nonbinary and asexual, Gender Queer is more than a personal story: it is a useful and touching guide on gender identity — what it means and how to think about it–for advocates, friends, and humans everywhere.”
The American Library Association has George M. Johnson’s gorgeous and already, frankly, iconic memoir (ever queer Black person I know has read it) All Boys Aren’t Blue as the second most challenged book last year. From the book description, “Both a primer for teens eager to be allies as well as a reassuring testimony for young queer men of color, All Boys Aren’t Blue covers topics such as gender identity, toxic masculinity, brotherhood, family, structural marginalization, consent, and Black joy.”
I finally read Last Night at the Telegraph Club this spring, and I could NOT put it down. I was literally carving out time in my day on purpose just for this book, which is pretty much the highest praise I could give anything. If you somehow haven’t read it yet, this is your sign! Set in 1954, “Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can’t remember exactly when the feeling took root–that desire to look, to move closer, to touch. Whenever it started growing, it definitely bloomed the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club. Suddenly everything seemed possible.”
Alison Bechdel’s graphic memoir classic is exactly that for a reason. “Distant and exacting, Bruce Bechdel was an English teacher and director of the town funeral home, which Alison and her family referred to as the ‘Fun Home.’ It was not until college that Alison, who had recently come out as a lesbian, discovered that her father was also gay. A few weeks after this revelation, he was dead, leaving a legacy of mystery for his daughter to resolve.”
When I first heard the words “Toni Morrison” + “Banned” — that’s when I started to pay attention to the movement. In her lifetime and afterlife, Toni Morrison went from being a Nobel laureate and one of the most widely agreed upon best storytellers of the last 100 years to her books being unable to be taught in schools. If that doesn’t ring the bell for you, I don’t know what else will.
From the book description, “In Morrison’s acclaimed first novel, Pecola Breedlove — an 11-year-old Black girl in an America whose love for its blond, blue-eyed children can devastate all others — prays for her eyes to turn blue: so that she will be beautiful, so that people will look at her, so that her world will be different. This is the story of the nightmare at the heart of her yearning, and the tragedy of its fulfillment.”
If you are one of those gays who loved SwanQueen and Once Upon a Time (No judgement! I was there, with you in the trenches!) then this is 100% the book for you! From the description, “Sixteen-year-old Sophia would much rather marry Erin, her childhood best friend, than parade in front of suitors. At the ball, Sophia makes the desperate decision to flee, and finds herself hiding in Cinderella’s mausoleum. There, she meets Constance, the last known descendant of Cinderella and her step sisters. Together they vow to bring down the king once and for all.”
Nearly 25 years later, millions of copies in print, and still a LEGEND! And sure, you’ve probably seen the movie, but wouldn’t you like to revisit where it all began? From the book description, “Charlie as he charts a course through the strange world between adolescence and adulthood. First dates, family drama, and new friends. Sex, drugs, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Devastating loss, young love, and life on the fringes. Caught between trying to live his life and trying to run from it, Charlie must learn to navigate those wild and poignant roller-coaster days known as growing up.”
I combed through no less than four or five “banned books” lists to put together this one, and each and every one of them highlighted This Book Is Gay by name. It’s a title really doesn’t hide! And honestly, that’s what some of our kids most need.
From the book description, “This candid, funny, and uncensored exploration of sexuality and what it’s like to grow up LGBTQ also includes real stories from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, not to mention hilarious illustrations… You will be entertained. You will be informed. But most importantly, you will know that however you identify (or don’t) and whomever you love, you are exceptional. You matter.” (Awwww!)
OK I’d never heard of this one, but it sounds.. so.. great?? From the book description, “Melissa thinks she’ll have to keep this a secret forever. Then her teacher announces that their class play is going to be Charlotte’s Web. Melissa really, really, REALLY wants to play Charlotte. But the teacher says she can’t even try out for the part… because she’s a boy. With the help of her best friend, Kelly, Melissa comes up with a plan. Not just so she can be Charlotte — but so everyone can know who she is, once and for all.”
A graphic novel that no one seems to be able to stop talking about! It also came in as #4 on the American Library Association’s most challenged books last year. From the description, “It’s the summer between middle school and high school, and Aiden Navarro is away at camp. Everyone’s going through changes — but for Aiden, the stakes feel higher. As he navigates friendships, deals with bullies, and spends time with Elias (a boy he can’t stop thinking about), he finds himself on a path of self-discovery and acceptance.”
From the book description, “Miles Halter is fascinated by famous last words — and tired of his safe life at home. He leaves for boarding school to seek what the dying poet François Rabelais called the ‘Great Perhaps.’ Much awaits Miles at Culver Creek, including Alaska Young, who will pull Miles into her labyrinth and catapult him into the Great Perhaps.”
If you’ve never read Push, there is nothing quite like it. A triumph of writing that’s as visceral as it is heartbreaking and triumphant, Sapphire set a generation of Black YA on fire — and that was before the novel was adapted into Lee Daniels’ Precious, which gave us all Gabby Sidibe and brought Mo’Nique her Oscar.
From the book description, “Precious Jones, an illiterate sixteen-year-old, has up until now been invisible to the father who rapes her and the mother who batters her and to the authorities who dismiss her as just one more of Harlem’s casualties. But when Precious, pregnant with a second child by her father, meets a determined and radical teacher, we follow her on a journey of education and enlightenment as she learns not only how to write about her life, but how to make it truly her own for the first time.”
The minute I saw Be Gay, Do Comics — I knew it had to be on this list! This anthology includes dozens of comics from the work of more than 30 LGBT cartoonists, each detailing (from the book description) everything from “personal stories to queer history to cutting satire about pronoun panic and brands desperate to co-opt pride.”
Another graphic novel, and it’s coming right for our Bend It Like Beckham meets Lumberjanes heart. Just read this book description and try not to squeal from the tween adorableness: “Quiet, sensitive Faith starts middle school already worrying about how she will fit in. To her surprise, Amanda, a popular eighth grader, convinces her to join the school soccer team, the Bloodhounds. Having never played soccer in her life, Faith ends up on the C team, a ragtag group that’s way better at drama than at teamwork. Although they are awful at soccer, Faith and her teammates soon form a bond both on and off the soccer field that challenges their notions of loyalty, identity, friendship, and unity.”
You’ve probably heard about the famous gay penguins at the Central Park Zoo before, I mean there’s a reason this board book is always on backorder! But don’t let that stop you from getting it for you tiny nibling. From the book description, “At the penguin house at the Central Park Zoo, two penguins named Roy and Silo were a little bit different from the others. But their desire for a family was the same. And with the help of a kindly zookeeper, Roy and Silo got the chance to welcome a baby penguin of their very own.”
From the description, “For Mike Muñoz, life has been a whole lot of waiting for something to happen. Not too many years out of high school and still doing menial work — and just fired from his latest gig as a lawn boy on a landscaping crew — he’s smart enough to know that he’s got to be the one to shake things up if he’s ever going to change his life. But how?”
If you’re someone who loves graphic novels and coming-of-age stories, there is are so many good options for you on this list! Let me give you another one! “Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It’s their getaway, their refuge. Rosie’s friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose’s mom and dad won’t stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems… It’s a summer of secrets, and sorrow, and growing up, and it’s a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.”
C’mon queer Caribbean love story!! From the description, “Being born during a hurricane is unlucky, and 12-year-old Caroline has had her share of bad luck lately. She’s hated and bullied by everyone in her small school on St. Thomas of the US Virgin Islands, a spirit only she can see won’t stop following her, and — worst of all — Caroline’s mother left home one day and never came back. But when a new student named Kalinda arrives, Caroline’s luck begins to turn around… Now, Caroline must find the strength to confront her feelings for Kalinda, brave the spirit stalking her through the islands, and face the reason her mother abandoned her. Together, Caroline and Kalinda must set out in a hurricane to find Caroline’s missing mother — before Caroline loses her forever.”
sequel to Sarah J. Maas’s spellbinding A Court of Thorns and Roses.
A Court of Mist and Fury is a sequel to Sarah J. Maas’ previous fantasy epic, A Court of Thorns and Roses but somehow this is the one that ends up on all the challenged book lists.
From the book description, “Feyre has undergone more trials than one human woman can carry in her heart. Though she’s now been granted the powers and lifespan of the High Fae, she is haunted by her time Under the Mountain and the terrible deeds she performed to save the lives of Tamlin and his people. As her marriage to Tamlin approaches, Feyre’s hollowness and nightmares consume her… While Feyre navigates a dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms. She might just be the key to stopping it, but only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future — and the future of a world in turmoil.”
I purposefully left this one for last. The Handmaid’s Tale is far from a perfect book, in fact I usually describe it as a full-on horror, but the irony of losing access to it is not at all lost on me. From the description, “Provocative, startling, prophetic, The Handmaid’s Tale has long been a global phenomenon. With this graphic novel adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s modern classic, beautifully realized by artist Renée Nault, the terrifying reality of Gilead has been brought to vivid life like never before.”
This is a”see something, do something” type of a list, because (at least in my opinion) what is the point of tracking banned books if you’re not also going to help get those books into the hands of the kids who need it the most? So with that in mind!
There are two organizations that I want to highlight who help children have access to books that might be challenged or banned in their state:
The Banned Book Program was launched by the non-profit In Purpose Educational Services (IPES) and the bookstore EyeSeeMe — both based out of St. Lous — and will donate one banned book a month (elementary, middle school, or high school) to anyone in Missouri who requests it. They deliver as many books as they have the money and resources to send, so you can directly help out by learning more about the program and donating funds for books.
There is also The Banned Books Book Club, which provides “a wide range of resources for readers and advocates of banned books, including our virtual monthly book club, lists of banned books, banned book discussion guides, and ideas for hosting banned book readings.” They take requests for banned books from students, teachers, librarians, and parents looking to start their own book clubs and fulfill as many requests as possible. You can help them by donating funds to fulfill requests.
You can also look to donate books to local literacy groups, community and civic centers, after school programs, and even some libraries will take book donations (mine does! I go through a lot of books, so I try to do a big drop every year). In these cases, it’s important that you first confirm that the organization is able to accept books or if they have any specific requirements for donations. Some might have specific age ranges or genres that they are looking for, but when it’s appropriate donating often challenged or banned books is a great way increase accessibility to that book.
If you know a teen or young reader who is looking for access to books, there are two more online programs that I want to point out. Books UnBanned comes from the Brooklyn Public Library, and will give anyone between the ages of 13 and 21 a free eCard that provides access to their entire full eBook collection, as well as their learning database. Their collection also features a list of frequently challenged books that are free for immediate download, no waiting period required. Similarly, New York Public Library’s Books for All program features a selection of often challenged books for every age group, and these books are available to download to anyone in the United States, with or without a library card.
There are also otherwise to show support! The Freedom to Read Foundation (FTRF) is a legal and educational non-profit that was founded in 1969 and is affiliated with the American Library Association. The FTRF protects and defends the First Amendment right to information and intellectual freedom, especially in libraries. So you can imagine they’re pretty busy these days! Here’s where to donate and support. You can also contact the ALA Office for Intellectual Freedom if you hear of a book challenge at your local library to provide support for your librarian. A challenge is an attempt to remove or restrict materials based on the objection of an individual or group. It’s basically the step before a ban, which is the removal of those materials. But thanks to librarians, who are so often on the frontlines of these actions, a lot of challenges are unsuccessful! Give them backup.
And this all brings me to my final point as I wrap things up, which is this: Support Your Local Librarians! That’s all! Read a banned books, give help to people who are trying to get banned books to people who need them. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
This post was originally written in July 2023. It has been updated for Banned Books Week, October 2023.
If you left Bottoms feeling ravenous for more stories about lesbian dirtbags, chaotic queers, and just general gay nonsense and hijinks, well, welcome to my life. I live for stories about “bad” gays, which of course I mean as a subjective and often complimentary descriptor. The books below center characters who range from flawed to unlikeable to downright devilish. Some of them aren’t necessarily mean or morally corrupt but rather just impulsive, self-destructive, and capable of very human mistakes and messes. But these books all, in some way, remind me of the playful, fiery, absurd energy of Bottoms. They’re great reads if you’re in the mood for a little gay mayhem (gayhem, if you will). Please shout out more books in the comments! I’m always looking for reads that fit this specific vibe.
A sex comedy in novel form, Big Swiss is raunchy, raucous, and…surprisingly deep about trauma? It’s about a 45-year-old transcriptionist of sex therapy sessions developing an obsessive crush on a much younger woman who is one of the patients whose sessions she listens in on and types up for work. Much like Bottoms, there’s deception, manipulation, and straight up lies at the foundation of this flirtation. Bad gays, indeed!
I will leap at any and every chance to put this book on a list, but this time it feels especially fitting, especially following the recommendation of Big Swiss. As I wrote in my review of Big Swiss, these two novels would “pair well together on a weekend where you wanna read about age gaps, obsession, and sex with an undercurrent of upheaval. Which for me is pretty much every weekend.” In it, a disgraced PhD candidate is obsessively in unrequited love with a professor, her mentor Dr. Joan Kallas. There’s a whole cast of fucked up characters, and instead of the intricate dynamics of desire and obsession within a high school fight club, we have here the intricate dynamics of desire and obsession within a toxic (literally — they study toxins) group of scientists.
This novel harnesses the same rip-roaring pace and taste for danger as Bottoms. It’s impressively action-packed for a work of literary fiction, and it really does read like a gay book version of Taxi Driver. The protagonist can quite literally throw punches like our Bottoms beloveds. And as I highlighted in my review: The queer sex scenes are great.
Set in 1877, Lucky Red presents a queer and feminist reimagining of frontier action-adventure tales, centered on the orphan Bridget, who falls in love with the new lady gunfighter in town, Spartan Lee. We’ve got gay romance and gay revenge afoot in this romp! What more could you want?
It’s difficult to get too far into the weeds of how exactly gays behave “badly” in this novel without spoiling it, but just trust me. It’s a delightful and devious little monster story that also satirizes reality dating shows. It opens with a literal bloodbath, violent and bruising throughout even as it’s caustically funny. As I wrote in my review: “Even as the novel throws many genres and forms into a blender, it’s all pureed to a smooth finish.” I could easily say the same about Bottoms (and pretty much did).
This is an equal opportunity novel in the sense that it somehow manages to portray heterosexuality as a complete farce and queerness as a complete farce. The obsessions and compulsions of its characters know no bounds, and Exalted mocks everything from mainstream astrology culture to extremely online culture to working in media and beyond. One of its central characters is a very bad gay mom.
Bad is right there in the title! Set in dual timelines of 1902 and present day, this bestselling gothic novel centers a cursed school for girls. Obsession, hauntings, and queer antics abound.
What I consider the ultimate dyke breakup novel, After Delores is a crackling tale of queer rage, grief, and love. It’s very funny. It’s emotionally complex. And hey, according to a Twitter thread she did, Schulman considers Bottoms to be in conversation with her early novels.
The poet laureate of the gross and the grossly hilarious, Samantha Irby writes my favorite humor essays around. “Lesbian Bed Death” from Wow, No Thank You is an all-time favorite.
This book contains linked gay short stories and vignettes that are horny, messy, foul, delicious, deviant, depraved, and downright immersive when it comes to humor, character, and relationship dynamics. “Gayhem” is definitely the first “word” that comes to mind when I think of it.
Drew Burnett Gregory brilliantly articulates the merits and missteps of this novel about a group of messy queers absconding to a cabin for a winter vacation that gets progressively more chaotic. Regardless of those missteps though, it’s easy to place the high femme camp antics of Dykette in conversation with Bottoms.
This novel is often discussed in terms of how compelling, richly layered, and emotionally complex it is, but it’s also just very fucking funny. The humor is sharp and often surprising. It isn’t afraid to go super macabre either.
When a 12-year-old girl tracks down protagonist Skye and says she’s one of Skye’s “eggs” — a product of an egg donation Skye did while broke in her twenties — things get even more uncomfortable when Skye realizes a woman she hit on is the girl’s aunt. GAYHEM, INDEED. This Lambda Literary winner is hilarious and a quick read.
I didn’t realize until the film came out just how many queer women in my social circle and workplace had read and adored Red, White and Royal Blue. But perhaps I shouldn’t have been so surprised, considering women have historically been the primary readers of M/M romantic fiction, even if the general assumption around that fact is that it’s straight women. But I suspect I’m not the only lesbian out there who enjoys a light, unchallenging little romp into gay romance. Whether you’re looking for hot sex scenes, tender coming-of-age tales, historical romance or kitchen-centric love, we’ve got you covered. Share your favorites in the comments!
If you’re looking for a reading experience that will be an unmitigated delight from top to bottom, try Red, White & Royal Blue! I loved this book so much I sent a Kindle copy to my girlfriend because I wanted her to have the same opportunity to access and harness easy joy in her life as I’d just given myself. If you’re here, you know the basics: Alex Claremont-Diaz is the son of America’s first female president, he’s got beef with Prince Henry. Forced to bury the hatchet by the forces of U.S. foreign policy, the two build a fake friendship that eventually becomes… more than that. Plus, his former girlfriend and current bestie, Nora (granddaughter of the Vice President), is bisexual and Jewish (this was not the case in the Prime Video movie, alas.) I had zero thoughts in my head while reading this book, it was like sitting on a cloud.
If you’re looking for messy queers looking for love in wrong places that turn out to be right places, try I’m So Not Over You! Months after their breakup, aspiring journalist Kian Andrews gets an unexpected proposal from his ex-boyfriend Hudson: he needs Kian to pretend they’re together again for his parents’ visit — but when that flops, Kian ends up being Hudson’s plus one to a huge wedding in Georgia that’ll be a big opportunity for Kian to meet the people who could move his career forward. Kian and Hudson are pure gay chaos apart and together in this witty little read!
If you’re looking to have your heart warmed by very cute, mostly well-behaved and usually mentally tormented teenagers, try The Heartstopper graphic novels! The stories that inspired the television show that has melted our collective hearts, Oseman’s coming-of-age tales follow a group of queer and trans friends grappling to figure out who they are, who they love, and what to do with all that love once they’ve found it. While awkward Charlie and his absolutely adorable relationship with rugby star Nick are the show’s centerpiece, there’s also a lesbian couple and a relationship between a trans girl and her best friend that eventually blossoms into romance. Even the tough stuff — and there’s plenty of it, including Charlie’s mental health struggles — is unbelievably tender, yet somehow bearable even for a certified cynic.
If you’re looking for a behind-the-scenes look at reality dating shows with a gay twist we could only dream could ever happen in real life — and lots of queer women characters, too — try The Charm Offensive! Disgraced tech wunderkind Charlie Winshaw is the new bachelor on reality TV show Ever After — a last-ditch effort to rehabilitate his image. Renowned producer Dev Deshpande, who still believes in fairy tale love, is finding Charlie to be the series’ most challenging contestant. He’s awkward, anxious, and not really connecting with any of the contestants — but my friends, he eventually does find quite the connection with Dev if you know what I mean.
If you’re looking for self-deprecating British gays written by one of the masters of the genre, try the widely adored Boyfriend Material! In this “fun, frothy, quintessentially British romcom,” Luc is the troubled son of a rock star he’s never met but now that rock star father is having a comeback, and Luc needs to clean up his image lest he thwart it. Thus he’s set up to have a nice, normal relationship with Oliver Blackwood, a barrister and an ethical vegetarian who couldn’t be more different than Luc but also stands to benefit from the fake relationship. But you know what happens to men in gay romance novels who have fake relationships!
Looking for One Direction fanfic but as a novel? Try If This Gets Out! Best friends Zach and Ruben are part of the super-famous boy band Saturday, and Ruben’s desire to come out has been squashed by Saturday’s management since the day they found out about it. But when sparks begin flying with Zach, leading to Zach realizing his own bisexuality — now they’ve got a lot more to figure out. How will they balance the pressures of being super-famous with their first European tour, a bandmate struggling with addiction and keeping their love a secret from the world???!!!
If you’re looking for an award-winning sweet teen friends-to-lovers that’s gorgeously written, try Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe! This widely adored YA classic set in 1980s El Paso tells the story of two Mexican-American teens finding their place in the world and who they are to each other. Dante’s a confident, self-assured swimmer and poet. Ari’s tough but shy, a loner with a brother in prison who’s never really fit in anywhere, protected by the walls he’s placed around himself. They meet at the swimming pool and their friendship changes everything.
If you’re looking for as many explicit gay sex scenes as possible and also enjoy a sport or two, try Him! The summer they were eighteen, Jamie and Ryan shared a weird, drunken, intimate night at hockey camp, and in the four years since, Jamie’s still not sure what he did to warrant his hilarious and delightful roommate cutting him off without warning forever. But now, Jamie and Ryan’s teams are about to face off at the national championship and Ryan’s ready to make amends for coaxing his straight friend into pushing the boundaries of their relationship, but as soon as they lock eyes, his crush bubbles right back up to the surface. And they’ve got a long summer at camp ahead of them. A long summer of boning!!!!!
Looking for a cross-class historical gay romance that’ll make you wanna listen to the Newsies soundtrack again? Try We Could Be So Good! Set in the 1950s, it’s the story of a reporter from a rough Brooklyn neighborhood who falls for the son of the tycoon who owns his newspaper. Their love story is full of pining and “the inherent eroticism of watching baseball with your queer spouse.”
Looking for a sweet high school story full of queer and trans joy? Try Always the Almost, a YA novel centered on Miles, a 16-year-old trans pianist determined to both win back his boyfriend Shane (a football star who dumped him when he came out) and win the Midwest’s most prestigious piano competition. Then he meets Eric Mendez, a queer cartoonist and the new kid in town who makes Miles feel… special, and cool, and valid. But first Miles has to love himself!!!!!
Looking for a story palatable enough to the world that it became a genuinely popular rom-com and television spin-off? Try Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda! Simon Spier is a closeted gay teenager writing clandestine emails to another closeted gay teenager in his school — but they don’t know who the other closeted gay teenager is. When Simon’s emails fall into the wrong hands, he’s blackmailed into a manipulated universe of perpetual fear, pushed towards compromising his friends’ lives to save his own, while reckoning with the fact that he’s fallen in love with the mysterious guy on the other end of these electronic conversations.
Looking for an inventively told love story featuring full-grown adults? Try Almost Like Being in Love! Told through e-mails, checklists, letters and narrative, this story finds a high school jock and nerd falling in love their final year of high school, spending an unforgettable summer together, and then drifting away until 20 years later. Both 38, Travis and Craig have incredible lives and careers, but they know something’s missing. Like perhaps EACH OTHER?
Seeking a friends-to-lovers BIPOC YA rom-com set in the local ethnic food scene of a small Vermont town? Try Café Con Lychee! Theo Mori’s the only out gay guy in his school, eager to escape Vermont and his parents’ café for college. Gabi Moreno’s closeted, playing soccer instead of pursuing his true love of dance, and his parents expect him to take over their Puerto Rican bakery after graduation. But a new fusion café opening in town changes everything, and thrusts Theo and Gabi together in unexpected ways, thus leading to unexpected feelings.
If you’re a music lover looking for a happy, slow-burn second-chance rom-com, try All the Right Notes by Filipino-American musician Dominic Lim! Quito Cruz and Emmett Aoki shared a very special night together in college and now, twenty years later (yes this is a popular trope), Quito’s a genius piano player / composer and Emmmett’s a Hollywood heartthrob. And Emmett’s agreed to perform at a charity event that Quito is organizing in their hometown and my friends the vibes are still there.
If you’re looking for a YA love triangle with a little more depth and also so much heart, try Like a Love Story, set in 1989 New York City during the AIDS crisis. Reza, an Iranian teen who’s just moved to the city with his family, is terrified of being gay during a time when his only reference of gay life in the media are men dying of AIDS. Then he meets and connects deeply with Judy, an aspiring fashion designer with a gay uncle active in ACT UP, and somehow he finds himself being Judy’s boyfriend. But then there’s Art, Judy’s best friend, the only out student at their school — now he’s gotta figure out how to follow his heart without losing everything. It’s a book rich with community, history, chosen family and art.
Looking for an adorable voicey YA romance described as “The Breakfast Club meets Can’t Hardly Wait” with a fun ensemble cast? Try As You Walk on By, in which 17-year-old Theo is dared to prompose to his crush at a party, gets rejected, and hides out in an empty bedroom to have an existential crisis. One by one, new classmates join him in the room to avoid their own crises, and together they get somewhere.
I’ve spent the past week in Philadelphia at the Lambda Literary Writer’s Retreat for Emerging LGBTQ Voices, where I previously was a nonfiction fellow but came this year as a speculative fiction writer in residence. The Lambda fellowship is a really magical program, and I highly encourage emerging queer and trans writers to apply!
While here, I’ve been thinking a lot about craft and the queering of craft. There are so many books that have been crucial to my growth and expansion as a writer, and I find they keep coming up over and over again in my life, sacred texts to return to whenever I need them, which is pretty much always. I’ve had so many literal in-person teachers in life, but I also have been taught so much just by reading the work of queer and trans writers across multiple genres. I don’t have an MFA, so close-reading craft books as well as just a wide range of queer and trans books has been my way of creating that classroom environment at home.
Being a queer writer means being in community with other queer writers, and sometimes that community just looks like burrowing deep into other people’s work. Below are eight craft books, memoirs, essay collections, and books straddling genres I believe all LGBTQ+ writers should explore. And it goes without saying that even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, there’s something to be learned about art, life, love, politics, and so much more from all of these wonderful books. Please shout out more recommendations in the comments, as I’d love to periodically update this and watch it multiply.
This post was originally published in May 2017 and has been updated for 2023.
Truly one of the best essay collections of the past decade and a personal favorite, Chee’s brilliant book brings up so many questions about art, literature, and identity and answers them with nuance, space for imagination, and warmth. All of the books on this list are for a wide range of readers, regardless of whether you’re a writer or not, but I think that’s especially true for this one. Bonus rec: I think there’s also a lot to learn from last year’s Best American Essays, edited by Chee.
Listen, I’m a proud Melissa Febos completist, by which I mean I write every goddamn thing she publishes. Her craft essays are among some of my favorites, and there are some available online, like “Mind Fuck: Writing Better Sex”, which has become my personal north star in the past few years since it came out when it comes to my own writing. I also think there’s much to be learned about craft and what personal narrative can do from her books Abandon Me (my favorite) and Girlhood.
I meeeean, you should just read June Jordan in general!!! It was tricky to pick which exact book of hers to include, but I think this is the best (prose) overview of her life as a poet, activist, and educator. If you want to go the poetry route (and I firmly believe prose writers can learn so much from poetry), I recommend Passion.
Kristen Stewart directing an adaptation of this memoir (which really reads as something more genrequeer than a standard memoir) isn’t the only reason you should read it, but it’s a compelling one!
This just came out this summer and was edited by the one and only Jericho Brown! The collection of essays from Black writers is geared specifically toward Black thought and craft, meant to be a guide rather than a prescriptive book of writing advice. It features work from Barry Jenkins, Jacqueline Woodson, Tayari Jones, and more!
The speeches and essays in this iconic collection have so much to offer in terms of Black feminist theory and thought, living a creative life, living a queer life, and just SO MUCH MORE. It honestly impossible to place it in a genre category in my opinion, because some of the work even reads as speculative nonfiction. The essay I return to most often is “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power.”
To be the best queer writers we can be today, we must engage with LGBTQ+ literary history, and this is a great entry point. Stef Rubino wrote in their review:
“Of course, all of the speeches address the realities of being queer, being a writer, and being a queer writer in the 1990s, but many of them also address other issues within and outside the LGBTQ community such as racism, sexism, the class divide, HIV and AIDS, surviving as an artist in a capitalist world, the place of the writer in the struggle for liberation, and the community responsibility of queer writers in the late 20th century.”
This is another book that feels like so much more than a memoir to me. Its intricate missives on self and storytelling will crack your brain right open. If you want to expand your mind when it comes to thinking about form and language (again, even if you’re a prose writer), you should read their poetry collection Content Warning: Everything, too, and follow it with Chinelo Anyadiegwu’s review.
This is, hands down, my favorite book of queer theory of all time. I think about it all the time, and when I first read it in college, it changed my life for real. I saved it for last, but really I think this is the number one book queer writers should delve into.
For me, it’s never been the visuals so much as its been stories. Given the choice to go the rest of my life without porn or without surprisingly hot sex scenes in literary novels, I would sacrifice porn. I don’t mean erotica or romance novels — which have their own value, and I value them! — I mean how Eileen Myles has a chapter in Inferno called “My Revolution” and it’s just a whole meditation on the genitals of various women with whom she has engaged sexually, or that weekend-long threesome from Chronology of Water, or how I didn’t have any idea The First Bad Man or The Gin Closet were going to be books with lesbian sex in them and then all of a sudden it was happening. I mean how I’ve never forgotten the first time I read Dorothy Allison writing about “frog-fucking” or struggling to reconcile trauma with desire. Reading authors like Dorothy Allison or Mary Gaitskill or Kathy Acker who are VERY frank and explicit about sex in their work makes me feel like a tiger.
Anyhow, I took to twitter dot com to ask y’all about literary novels you’ve loved for the story but you know, also for the sex. Firstly, it’s worth noting that certain parts of Inferno and Chronology of Water, as aforementioned in this intro, came up in this thread almost immediately, thus affirming my life choices.
This post was originally published in February 2019 and has been updated for 2023.
biomythography // lesbian
“Ginger moved in love like she laughed, openly and easily, and I moved with her, against her, within her, an ocean of brown warmth. Her sounds of delight and the deep shudders of relief that rolled through her body in the wake of my stroking fingers filled me with delight and a hunger for more of her. The sweetness of her body meeting and filling my mouth, my hands, wherever I touched, felt right and completing, as if I had been born to make love to this woman, and was remembering her body rather than learning it deeply for the first time.”
short stories // lesbian
“We wrestled, eggplant breaking up between our navels. I got her shorts off, she got my jeans down. I dumped a whole plate of eggplant on her belly.
“You are just running salt, girl,” I teased, and pushed slices up between her legs, while I licked one of her nipples and pinched the other between a folded slice of eggplant. She was laughing, her belly bouncing under me.
“I’m gonna make you eat all this,” she yelled.
“Of course,” I pushed eggplant out of the way and slipped two fingers between her labia. She was slicker than peanut oil. “But first we got to get the poison out.”
short stories // lesbian
“With my nipple still in her mouth she pushed my jeans down so they encircled my ankles. I was sweating and messy. She was much older than me, almost clinical as she proceeded, which not only aroused me but made me like her better. Somehow things were more in balance than earlier in the evening. I wished she had brought a camera with her so we could have taken pictures of me masturbating to the sight of her naked body — and ever after I could torture myself over what she had done with them.”
novel // queer
“Nail me to you. I will ride you like a nightmare. You are the winged horse Pegasus who would not be saddled. Strain under me. I want to see your muscle skein flex and stretch. Such innocent triangles holding hidden strength. Don’t rear at me with unfolding power. I fear you in our bed when I put out my hand to touch you and feel the twin razors turned towards me. You sleep with your back towards me so that I will know the full extent of you. It is sufficient.”
memoir // lesbian // i just wanted to include this quote here because it is one of my favorite things anybody has ever written!
“I told her, Don’t touch me that way. Don’t come at me with that sour-cream smile. Come at me as if I were worth your life – the life we make together. Take me like a turtle whose shell must be cracked, whose heart is ice, who needs your heat. Love me like a warrior, sweat up to your earlobes and all your hope between your teeth. Love me so I know I am at least as important as anything you have ever wanted.”
novel // lesbian
Read our interview with Sarah Schulman
“I clenched my teeth. She bit my neck until I thought her teeth would break. Thank God. I like it when it hurts. Vaginal trauma is what I live for. Skeletal friction first and then my skin is the softest skin. When she comforted me, I loved the comfort. When she hurt me, I loved the pain. When she controlled me I loved the capitulation. When she serviced me I loved the intent. Coming out is not the end of insanity, you know. It’s only the beginning.”
one story in an anthology of fiction, poetry and essays // lesbian
“I am masturbating. I am letting la Sangre crawl down the walls, making her way to my fingers. The fingers push her back to my ovaries, making red blood waves. I pull my fingers out and let the blood ooze gently onto my hand. I cup a handful and let it drip on my flesh. First on my round belly, just a drop enclosed within my navel, then on my nipples. Bruised breasts, going from purple green to tender brown. There is a powerful message in the red fluid that is my blood. It is trickling down through the orifice, the mouth-like opening at the tip of my tit. Instead of milk being sucked out from its deep roots, la Sangre is finding her way in. Buscando y arrancando. There are rough ropes tied in intricate and ornate knots. I am being held by these threads like my flesh is being sewn shut, the needle being held by a hand blurry in my vision. Raises. Roots sucking the water.”
historical novel // lesbian
“I slid my hands under and up her smooth sides, I wanted to be slow to savor but we couldn’t, she gripped me and moved under me. I felt her nipples under my palms and I think I died. Rose gasped as though I’d stabbed her and I felt like a savage robbing a sacred tree, her thigh between my legs. I found her hand and led it to a place I know, I kissed it with the mouth that I keep hidden, then took her inside and sucked her like the greedy tide that can’t decide to swallow or disgorge. I lost track of everything. And even after I finally could stop, I knew that I would never be finished.”
novel // lesbian
“…to appear normal she had slept with men at first. Slept with was hardly the phrase, certainly not fucked. Sex. Yes, she had sex with men until one day she couldn’t have it any more, just couldn’t and returned to the thought of her breasts in the curve of a woman’s, her legs wide to her tongue, her lips warm to her face, the fat of her belly, her hands searching her back, easing her muscles, watering her thighs. She’s thought of the brush and ease of the skin, the melt into the soft and swell of the body. How this is sometimes not done, not spoken, in her room, the beer at their lips, the moment with nothing to say between them. Then sometimes she would fall asleep in the curve of the breasts, in the crook and keen musk of thighs, the slip of the skin. She wants nothing more.”
historical fiction // lesbian
“Soon her breaths became moans, then cries; soon my own voice joined hers, for the dildo that serviced her also pleasured me — her motions bring it with an even faster, ever harder pressure against just that part of me that cared for pressure best. I had one brief moment of self-consciousness, when I saw myself as from a distance, straddled by a stranger in an unknown house, buckled inside that monstrous instrument, panting with pleasure and sweating with lust. Then in another moment I could think nothing, only shudder; and the pleasure — mine and hers — found its aching, arching crisis, and was spent.
After a second she eased herself from my lap, then straddled my thigh and rocked gently there, occasionally jerking, and at last growing still. Her hair, which had come loose, was hot against my jaw.
At length she laughed, and moved again against my hip. “Oh, you exquisite little tart!” she said.”
experimental fiction // queer
“After she came back, Isabelle and I arranged to meet alone in the church.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you.”
I dug her neck into my teeth. Then I nailed her hands against the floor. Her pincers tore at me. I followed everything inside me. From now on her legs would always be spread open. I stormed her openings as if she was beleaguered fortress.
“Tell me.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you.”
Another memory: Night after night when it was dark I crawled into I’s bed. We held hands and told each other our stories of childhood.
“The school,” she said, “was burning down.”
No. Our cunts.
I don’t remember. Don’t describe what can’t be remembered. What will never be seen. What’s between the legs, I and I. She was discovering the little organ that the cock imitates. My limitations are too painful. I transformed into the sex of a dog, red and unbearable to my own eyes.
It has come.
(For this reason women don’t need Christ.)
Our comings can’t end.”
memoir // lesbian
“I took the brat through the dark streets of the city I had owned first and we sucked from glass bottles, hands twisting the sacks around the necks into paper flowers. We fucked in bathrooms and alleys bold as boys, bent over porcelain sinks that creaked from the wall with the weight of her hand inside me. The rustle of clothes and rats, clink of belt buckles and feet on broken glass. When someone saw us by accident, I let them be embarrassed. Shame was like a dirty tampon pulled from my body and flung in the bucket when I was with Iris.”
historical novel // lesbian
“So, I kissed her again. Then I touched her. I touched her face. I began at the meeting of our mouths — at the soft wet corners of our lips — then found her jaw, her cheek, her brow — I had touched her before, to wash and dress her; but never like this. So smooth she was! So warm! It was like I was calling the heat and shape of her out of the darkness — as if the darkness was turning solid and growing quick, under my hand.
She began to shake. I supposed she was still afraid. Then I began to shake, too. I forgot to think of Gentleman, after that. I thought only of her. When her face grew wet with tears, I kissed them away.
“You pearl,” I said. So white she was! “You pearl, you pearl, you pearl.”
experimental novel // queer
“I felt so good, tied to the bed, without choice, chosen, legs and arms spread; I hovered above myself, seeing my fantasy of the student’s experienced fingers opening the teacher’s clothes, unsnapping teacher, spreading her, sliding inside the material; over her breasts, around her shoulders, down to her navel over her belly and down into her bush, which was not as bushy, of course, as it had been when she was a student herself, much to her sorrow. I returned to my body and gazed up at the face on top of me, close, intent, the curly gray hair getting curlier from dampness. I started to thrash.”
novel // queer
“I burrowed my head in closer and tunnelled my tongue into her gully hole. Lisette giggled, then sighed, my girl, and opened her knees wider. The salty liquor of her spread in my mouth. I lapped and snuffled, held her thighs tight as she wriggled and moaned. Pretty soon she was bucking on my face, calling out and cursing me sweet. All sweaty, she was, and she had her thighs clamped to my ears so that my hearing was muffled. My hair was caught beneath her. It pulled, but I cared nothing for that. I reached behind her and squeezed her bumcheeks, used them to pull her closer. She wailed and shoved herself at me, until to breathe at all I had to breathe in her juice. And she pitched and galloped like runaway horses, but I held her, held her down and sucked her button in, twirled my tongue around it. Then even her swears stopped, for she could manage words no longer, and only panted and moaned. The roar she gave at the end seemed to come from the pit of her, to bellow up through her sopping cunny.”
essays // lesbian // if my ex is reading this, i would like her to know that i think she still has my copy of this book and i would like it back!!
“Frog fucking. Her hands on my hips; my heels against my ass, legs spread wide; her face leaning into my neck; my hands gripping her forearms. Her teeth are gentle. Nothing else about her is. I push up on the balls of my feet, rock my ass onto my ankles, reaching up for every forward movement of her thighs between mine. Her nipples are hard, her face flushed, feet planted on the floor while I arch off the edge of the bed, a water mammal, frog creature with thighs snapping back to meet her every thrust.”
historical experimental fiction // queer
“Her beautiful head was down at my breast, she caught me between her teeth just once, she put the nip into nipple like the cub of a fox would, down we went, no wonder they call it an earth, it was loamy, it was good, it was what good meant, it was earthy, it was what earth meant, it was the underground of everything, the kind of soil that cleans things. Was that her tongue? Was that what they meant when they said flames had tongues? Was I melting? Would I melt? Was I gold? Was I magnesium?”
urban fantasy novel // queer
“Oh, fuck it,” Pilar whispered. She took Loup’s face in her hands and kissed her, hard and deep. The rainwater was cool, but her skin was warm beneath it; and there was no pulling away, only pushing closer. Closer and closer. She pressed Loup against the door, kissed her hungrily, her tongue agile and expert. Pilar’s breasts pressing against hers, nipples erect with cool rain and desire. One leg pressed between her thighs. Her hands slid down to Loup’s waist, under her tank top, craving skin. Loup wound her arms around Pilar’s neck, kissing her back.
It was exhilarating.
Better than fighting, better than anything.”
memoirish novel // lesbian
read our review of Inferno
“Waves of feeling rocked through my chest and cunt. It was too much to ask, to imagine. She was the lesbian. It was hers. Her bed. her room. Her beautiful sunshine going down on the awful medieval filth of me. A horrible dirty twenty seven year old. Too late. I was rotten with men. All that sex an hour ago now made me hopelessly wrong. To have the privilege of a girl. Her smells were all I could hope for. She would eat me?”
memoir // bisexual
“Whoever was staying in the [rooms next to ours] must’ve gotten an earful. Hours of woman on woman on woman whose regular lives didn’t allow for such wild abandon. Sometimes Hannah’s fist up my cunt Claire’s mouth on mine or me sucking her epic tits. Sometimes Hannah on her stomach me up her ass with a strap on Claire behind me giving me a reach-around — a skill she intuited. Sometimes Claire on all fours me and Hannah filling every hole licking every mouth rubbing her clit making her scream making her entire corpus shiver her head rock back her woman wail let loose gone primal cum and shit stains and spit and tears. I came in Hannah’s mouth, her face between my legs like some goddess in a new myth.”
novel // bisexual
“She made me come so many times that afternoon that had I been somewhat older, I might have dropped dead. Had I been a doll, she might have twisted off each of my limbs, and sucked the knobs until they glistened, and drilled her tongue into each of the holes. Certainly had the windows been open, as would have made sense on that sunny June day, my thundering cries, in the end, would have summoned the neighbors; for Martha, in dismantling me, dredged a voice out of me I did not know I owned; the devastation of my pleasure surged outward and outward again, like an ocean-floor tremor, while that voice I had never imagined was bellowing harshly oh GOD oh GOD OHGODOHGODOHOGOD! — and it was then that Martha finally flung herself onto my shore, and through violent sobs kissed me…”
memoir // bisexual
“She unbuttons my shirt. Underneath I am wearing a lace tank top. What is this shirt, she says, This shirt is going to haunt me. We kiss and kiss and then she turns me around, fucking me from behind with her hand, pulling my underwear to the side. I keep my tank top on. I like fucking you while you still have some clothes on, she says. We laugh after I come. Let’s make you come again, because it’s fun, she says. I ask her if she came and she says, Did it feel like I came? I ask her if she wants to see the new lingerie I bought. She says yes. I leave the bed and walk to my dresser, opening the top drawer, stripping my clothes off and pulling the pink and lacey dress over my head. She lies on her back on the carpet and I lie on top of her.”
memoir // essays // queer
read our review of Dirty River
“You’re so open right now. I could almost fist you,” my lover says. I say “making love” with this one without irony. There are many moments when we make love and kiss, and it’s sacred, it’s hovering spirits inhabiting and flying over our bodies; it’s making love with the psychic incest-survivor crazy who is a grownup after a lot of therapy and medication who I fund, waded in a river and prayed for.
They have four fingers inside me. They have big hands. I am all the way open. The day before my period. New moon in Pisces, and I’ve been crying from the gut all week. All the way love. All the way open to you. It doesn’t hurt. It’s not hard. I am opening. I come a series of high and open. I will keep opening for you. I make this joyful choice.”
novel // queer
read our review of Life Is Wonderful, People are Terrific
“Having her in bed with me made me realize how alone I’d been. Her body was so soft and warm, she had a round belly and firm tits with dark nipples that I held in my mouth for a long time. She was quiet at first which only turned me on more, but when she whispered in my ear “Will you go inside me?” I almost lost all control. I took it gently, then gained momentum. She was beneath me and I kept watching her face the entire time, the light from a new half-moon shining on her face through my window in the dark. I could feel the moment of pressure inside her against my middle finger and that’s when she cried out, hot liquid all over me, my bed, underneath her. Me next to her, wrapped around each other, kissing for hours. I kept thinking about the Cherrie Moraga poem and all the ways I felt myself open right then with Gabby. It wasn’t the kinkiest or the craziest sex I’ve ever had but it was one of the most intimate and I found myself practically high off her and she let me have all of her.”
novel // bisexual
“Slowly she made her way to my chest. We’d never gone farther than the chest. But now she gently removed my nightgown, and then removed hers. She cupped her hands around my breasts, took turns with them, fondling and stroking and caressing them with her tongue. I felt the soft tug of her teeth on the peaks of my chest. Euphoria washed over me.
She continued, leaving a trail of kisses on her way down to my belly. She traveled farther, beyond the belly, farther than we had ever gone. I moaned and surrendered myself to her. I did not until then know that a mouth could make me feel that way when placed in that part of the body where I had never imagined a mouth to belong.”
novel // lesbian // genderfluid
Note: The protagonist, Paul, is a shape-shifter, and the author uses he/him pronouns for Paul regardless of what shape he’s in. For this excerpt, Paul is in a woman’s body.
“They kissed more, with this dare in their heads, and then Paul couldn’t take doing nothing else, her hands all over him. He slid his hand down her workpants into the slidey packet of her, and felt some kind of jittery bursting in his own self, and she jangled out of her clothes to give his hand a better angle to get inside her and he cupped his fingers up inside her, mouth on her nipple, under her pushed-up shirt. His hands somehow knew what to do and he realized that he’d slid his entire hand inside her without asking. She squeezed his knuckles and he tried to tuck his thumb without hurting her, because of how many lectures on safe fisting, and how different could a vagina be? He wondered if she would break his hand with her throbbing and then he surrendered to the immediate need to suck on something and bent to her clit, where he felt exceedingly peaceful for a long time, sucking and slowly moving his fist, so slowly, until she began to come, or come again?, through which Paul just hung on, which seemed to be the right thing. Afterward she smiled at him and they kissed and Paul felt floppy and amped and disturbed in a way he though might be connected to not having come. Or had he? Things were very sloshy down there and had maybe changed states in some incomprehensible way. Diane was kissing him again, and again this dispelled the thinking and then somehow she had slid between his legs, pulled off his shorts, and was sucking on his girl parts through and then under his hot soaking panties, building to a violent universal bang. Then it was over, and he was just smelling crushed grass and sex and the starry night all over him.”
memoir // bisexual
“The first time she asked me to come, she asked in Spanish, the Captain’s first language. It felt like a consummation. Not of love, per se, but a desire stored deep in our bodies. This, we said with our hands and teeth and tongues. This is as close as we can get to it. This is everything, and it is not enough. I understood what she had meant when she wrote that I had taken something from her. I wanted something from her that I could not name. My whole body was a mouth. My heart was a mouth that only she could fill, that she could never fill.”
short stories // bisexual
“You’re really beautiful,” she says into my skin. She grinds her pelvis hard against mine, and I moan, and at some point the cold charm of her necklace dips into my mouth and knocks against my teeth. I laugh, she laughs. She takes off the necklace and sets it down on the nightstand, the chain slithering like sand. When she sits up again, the ceiling fan frames her head like a glowing halo, like she’s a Madonna in a medieval painting. There is a mirror on the opposite side of the room, and I catch fragments of her reflection. “May I —” she starts, and I nod before she finishes. She puts her hand over my mouth and bites my neck and slips three fingers into me. I laugh-gasp against her palm.
I come fast and hard, like a bottle breaking against a brick wall. Like I’ve been waiting for permission.”
novel // bisexual
“The problem with having somewhat good sex with someone reasonably available—well, reasonably; immoderately and extravagantly available, more like—was that, once had, it was difficult not to want it all the time. It was difficult for Hero to remember that she’d spent months and months filling up her days with something that wasn’t fucking around with Rosalyn, that in fact she’d gone most of her life doing things that weren’t fucking around with Rosalyn, that she had an entire lifetime’s worth of evidence showing that it was possible to think about things that weren’t fucking around with Rosalyn—and yet. Hero found herself ignoring all the evidence in favor of spending her days thrumming, like a machine that had been left turned on and then forgotten about, leaking electricity, draining itself dry, until Rosalyn got within hand’s reach again.”
historical fiction // bisexual
“Her hips are rocking into Alma’s touch. The pale ribbon whispers through each set of eyes. Nell unhooks the corset’s busks, and it falls open like a flower. She pulls off her chemise and is all bared to Alma, her skin pearly in the lamplight, silvery lines on the skin at her hips, on the skin under her navel, tracing toward the dark thatch of hair where Alma’s hand is still busy, still twisting. Alma walks her backward to the bed. Drops to her knees and replaces her thumb with her tongue. Nell moans. Hot musk in Alma’s nose, slickness on her tongue, oh, and it’s good, her mouth dripping spit, Nell’s fingers in her hair, holding her down. Her breaths come thick, fast, and god damn it, she can’t wait any longer. She kneels wider on the floor, the boards’ seams biting into her knees. Pulls her hand from the heat of Nell’s body and works it under the band of her small clothes. Fingers wet with Nell’s juices, Alma’s tongue pulsing in time with her touch, oh, yeah, it won’t take much, her body is wound tight as a watch spring.
“Let me see you,” Nell says, breath hitched. “Let me see your face.”
novel // lesbian
read our review of When Katie Met Cassidy
Katie ran her fingers across Cassidy’s taut stomach. “You know how you felt out there on the ranch?” she said. “Like you were out of your element?”
A trail of goosebumps followed the path of Katie’s fingertips upon Cassidy’s skin.
“That’s how I feel with you.” She traced her way down to Cassidy’s hipbones. “I don’t know how to touch you.” She glided her fingertips down the inside of Cassidy’s thigh. “But I want to.”
Cassidy kissed Katie’s neck, took her earlobe into her mouth. She whispered into Katie’s ear, “I’ll show you.”
novel // lesbian // transgender
“How long has it been since I laughed with someone during sex? Have I ever? It feels good, shameless and free. She bites the side of my breast, her breath wet and hot there, then trailing slowly across to my nipple. My whole body tightens in anticipation as her lips close over my waiting flesh. I shiver, caught in the rush of heat. My limbs go lax as she draws on my nipple, again and again. One hand slides down to cup me through my pants, and instead of pushing it away, I ride her hand as another kind of pressure builds inside me.
“Yeah, rub off on me,” she whispers, “Can you come like that?”
I don’t know, but it would take an act of Congress to keep me from trying.”
novel // bisexual
“The way I ate her was like a meal, in little parts. Jenny gave small pieces of herself away each time my tongue pressed into her. A little less of her seemed to come back with me. The places where we became one thing together like this, our open membranes raw and bleeding. The cave of her colliding into my mouth, the place where words form. The way our darks connected. I didn’t know what to think about how this felt other than we were here, alive and breathing and fucking, and maybe this is how it was supposed to be.”
novel // lesbian
read our review of Mostly Dead Things
“I kissed her to make myself forget. Forget all about it. Think only about the body how it would open for me, the thing that I needed.
She lay back on my unmade covers, still rumpled from the night before. Had me set the carapace of the cicada on the plane of her stomach, in the fallen divot between her ribs. We watched each other through the open hole of its body. I could hear the live ones screaming again outside in the trees, high and shrill. When my mouth touched the opening to her body, her chest rose abruptly. The cicada rolled forward, ready for flight.”
novel // lesbian
read our review of “Long Live the Tribe of Fatherless Girls”
“I pull her pants down to her knees and push my face into her and taste what I want to taste. I fuck her with my hand. Relax, she says. I’m the one who tops here.
Jane tries to flip me over, but I don’t want her to touch me. As if by reaching inside me she will find the very pith of my fraudulence. I have a UTI, I lie, crushing my hips into her leg.
Sometimes I jerk off thinking of you, she says.
I come when she says this.”
memoir // lesbian
“Whitney and I held hands and got close on the dance floor, but once we started kissing, we left. We made it to the car but couldn’t wait long enough to get back to the hotel. I parked the rental car alongside the water, and before long a cop knocked on the window. We were in there naked, but the windows were fogged up so he couldn’t see much and just urged us to move along. Whitney was uncomfortable with her body, but I thought she was beautiful. I used to tell her, ‘God must have put you together piece by piece.'”
novel // lesbian
read our review of A World Between
“Eleanor felt twenty again, with a craving like there was nothing else in her life, and pressed Leena into the air mattress as it weaved and waved with the pressure of their bodies. With Leena naked underneath her, she licked and kissed paths all over her skin, relearning the geography that once kept her up at night, gently biting the birthmark on her inner thigh, moving right on past the engagement ring as if it wasn’t even there.”
novel // bisexual // transgender
read our review of Detransition, Baby
“How long had she been sobbing? She didn’t want to sob, she wanted to kiss the pretty dick resting on the pad of her tongue. For the last month, she had been obsessed with Reese; all she wanted to do was get closer and closer to her. It was to the point that the phrase ‘I want to eat you up’ took on shades of the literal — digestive incorporation being the only act that Amy could imagine getting her closer to Reese than sex. Just an hour before, Amy had watched Reese brush her teeth, her long brown hair hanging loose, and her arm pistoning back and forth so hard as she brushed that her tits waggled side to side under her slinky nightgown. Amy decided it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, topping each of the fifty other Reese actions she’d decided one after another that day was the sexiest vision ever.”
novel // lesbian
read our interview with Kristen Arnett
“Sammie knew people always described their orgasms as cresting waves. Invoked the beauty of a starburt, or fireworks all in a row: bang, bang, bang. But for her, coming felt more like finally sitting down for a good meal after starving for weeks. The movement of it—spasms like a jaw clenching and unclenching. Like her pussy wanted to swallow everything and ask for seconds.
She fisted a hand in Myra’s hair and rode out that first big one. If Myra kept swirling her tongue like that, she might come again. Then it would be like having leftovers. Just thinking about that way led to her next orgasm. She yelled a word that almost sounded like fuck, and tightened her grip until she knew there’d be strands of Myra’s hair twined between her fingers when she let go. She almost came a third time, but she was spent, it was done, and when she finally let go and Myra sat up, smiling, she saw blood ringing the other woman’s mouth.”
novel // bisexual
“Back in my room, we lie on the bed and kiss. And kiss. And kiss. I cannot get enough of Faye’s mouth, of the taste and smell of it, of the way her lips feel against mine. I could lie here with her tongue in my mouth for the rest of my life. But after a few minutes of kissing, she climbs on top of me. She sits up, so she’s straddling me, then she pulls me into a sitting position, too. She tugs at my shirt and, as I raise mu arms, she pulls it over my head. This is when I realize I’m still wearing my emergency bra and begin to scream internally.”
novel // bisexual
read our interview with Zaina Arafat
“After climbing into bed the night before, I’d woken her up the way I knew she liked, pressing my nose against her neck and breathing deeply until the vibration roused her. I then switched up our usual roles, pulling myself on top of her while at the same time scooting her beneath me.”
novel // lesbian
read our review of Yerba Buena
“Sara took a woman home that night, something she rarely did, though the offers tumbled forth with every night she worked the bar. She was practiced in the art of being just friendly enough, of the gentle rejection, of the absolute no when it was required. But that fantasy—cupping Emilie’s cheek and drawing her closer—wouldn’t let Sara rest. So when a woman stayed late, past the time her friends left, past everyone else, Sara gave in. They had sex on the sofa in Sara’s small living room. The woman came quickly, and Sara felt a burst of tenderness for her—Christa or maybe Christine? It had been loud in the bar when she’d told her—but soon, emptiness came rushing in. That inevitable feeling. The reason no relationship lasted very long.”
novel // lesbian
read our review of Our Wives Under the Sea
“Sex with Leah was a key and a lock, an opening up of something I had assumed impassable, like a door warped shut by the heat. Joy in the fact of pleasure, in the fact of my own relief. When we fucked, I felt myself distinct from my previous versions: the frenzied me, the panicked me, the me who had imagined herself poisoned by something she had never even done.”
novel // queer
read our review of Body Grammar
“It felt heady and strange to be kissing someone she didn’t know well but was extremely attracted to. Her body hummed as Thayer took off her shirt and peeled down her jeans, then lay there, looking up at Lou. Lou asked what she wanted, and Thayer told her. Lou didn’t know what to do, but she knew how to follow directions. She could put her mouth there and there and there, and she could move her tongue like that and that, and she could do everything that was asked of her, especially if she was asked like that, and it turned out she could it all well, like really well. Thayer smelled and tasted delicious and Lou was so hungry, and as soon as it was over, she wanted to do it again.”
novella // lesbian
“Later, during the spell when Sigrid and I didn’t see each other for a while, I would nonetheless evoke that kiss when I was masturbating, and over time my memory of the fantasy has become clearer than my memory of the night itself. In that fantasy Sigrid won’t stop staring at me. She uses every excuse to touch me, deliberately pressing into me as she leans over to grab another beer off the tray. In the fantasy, I reach out and put a hand on her thigh; she, in turn, shakes her head and flushes red, and then I get up to go to the restroom and she follows me. She tugs at my shoulder to turn me toward her and I push her up against the wall. We’re blocking the hallway to the restrooms, which is too narrow as it is—by the time our lips touch I’ve usually already come, and if not, I switch to a different memory, an image from a few weeks later: We’re in my bed and Sigrid is straddling me, “Deeper, deeper,” she cries, her face contorted with pleasure and yet vaguely mournful, and the memory of that grimace—ugly and hot at the same time—tends to get me there right away.”
novella // lesbian
read our review of Helen House
“When she found out about the promotion, we’d gone out for Korean BBQ. Later in bed, I could still smell the smoke in her hair, and it made me hungry for her. I mean, sure, I was always hungry for her. But that smoky smell was like a spell, and I asked her to put on the harness I usually wore, watched her fumble with its buckles and straps without offering any assistance, my hunger deepening when she whispered, Like this?“
novel // lesbian
read our review of All This Could Be Different
“I touched the Kia Soul’s gear stick. Get naked, I said. Then put your mouth on this.
A look of uncertainty flashed across her face. Still, she complied. Contorting her torso to stay perched on me. Her generous lower lip and its slender tremulous companion, pink shot through with brown. Her mouth, parting.
Pleasure this, I said, taking in the bemused look in her eyes, feeling the vague gathering mists of foolishness—and of course, real wild desire is braided tightly with foolishness, with all that is awkward and stilted. I had to work against this. To safeguard the moment, which still felt savable, felt swollen with blood and heat.
Pleasure it, I said, as if it were my cock.“
memoir // lesbian
“Sam and I spent two weeks sweaty fucking for hours a day in her mom’s two-bedroom, one-bathroom trailer without air-conditioning. We barely left except to walk to McDonald’s or Subway, where I would order double and eat until I felt sick. The sex made me ravenous, but I hated leaving Sam’s bedroom, tiptoeing out past her mom, into the kitchen. She looked up at me from her recliner like she could smell her daughter on me, and surely, she could.”
novel // bisexual
“At first they only hooked up in Louisa’s studio, late at night when the building was empty and silent, but after a few days they began having sex in their room, as well. It was surreal, Louisa thought sometimes: there were her posters on the wall, and there was her green plastic shower caddy, and there was her towel on its hook, and here was Karina’s pale pink nipple in her mouth, and here were Karina’s fingers moving inside her, and here was Karina’s tongue on her neck, and here—”
novel // lesbian
read our review of We Do What We Do in the Dark
“Mallory turned toward the woman and kissed the woman’s shoulder, her neck, her lips. They kissed for while before the woman went to lie back on the bed, reaching her hand into her underwear to rub herself, soft and slow. Her eyes were closed. Mallory, still seated beside the woman but looking down at her, understood that the woman wanted to be watched doing this too, so that was what Mallory did: watched.
Almost as a reflex, Mallory, who’d taught herself to masturbate by watching other women do it in porn, began to mirror the woman’s movements on herself. She felt her own wetness and fell back next to the woman. The two of them moved like this, alone and together. Their breaths became heavier and heavier until the woman whispered, ‘Do you want to touch me?’ Mallory said yes, and the woman took Mallory’s hand in hers, bringing it between her legs. The woman, using Mallory’s hand to rub herself, opened her legs wider, and Mallory sat up to kneel between them. A low moan trembled in the woman’s throat. The woman removed her own hand and Mallory continued. ‘Yes,’ the woman said. ‘Like that.’ It was as if she was teaching Mallory to draw.”
novel // lesbian
“Sasha fell forward, as though by accident, collapsing into Jules. Pressed into the shoulder of Jules’s royal purple hoodie, she took a deep drag and closed her eyes. It was a sad smell, a smell of the past, a past that isn’t quite gone. Jules arranged her arms around Sasha and pulled her in. The pressure of their bodies together made Sasha so wet that she wondered if she was somehow already coming. They stayed like that for a few minutes, and then she wedged her right knee into Jules’s crotch, gently, again like an accident. Jules’s big body gave in almost immediately, her groin warmly accepting Sasha’s knee, sucking her knee into its micro-climate, and Sasha felt Jules’s wetness through Jules’s jeans and through her own black tights.”
novel // queer
read our review of Big Swiss
“Her pussy looked like advanced oragami. A crisp pink lotus flower folded by a master. Greta briefly rearranged it with her mouth. The flower transformed into an acorn. Then a unicorn. Then back again. Greta dragged her tongue over it diagonally three dozen times. Now it resembled two dragonflies languidly mating on a lily pad.”
novel // lesbian
read our review of The Fake
“Shelby remembers when she and Kate were like that, when even if they were only driving an hour out of town they’d have to stop and have sex in the car on some side road, the bruises on her shins she’d have later that she liked to look at.”
novel // lesbian
read our review of Your Driver Is Waiting
“‘Wait, wait. There’s no one here,’ she said between gasps, still grinding on my face. She opened the door and got out, pulling at me to follow her. She wasn’t afraid of showing me how much she wanted me. She walked around to the front of my car, and bent herself over the hood, before reaching down to touch her pussy. Fuck. Of course I was falling for her. She leaned against the car, my car, with come-get-me eyes.
‘Is this okay? Can I do this?’ asked Jo.
I leaned towards her, wrapping my leg around her, bringing her closer with my arm, then I kissed her neck. We were naked and maybe someone was watching but I didn’t think about it. Our bodies were close, and we rocked, finding each other’s rhythm. She bit my neck harder and scratched at my back, but I kept going until she was limp and shuddering in my arms.”
novel // lesbian
“‘Okay, I’m sorry,’ Lex whispered against her flesh in a voice deeper than normal and Mickey felt the hum of desire rising in her skin. They loved to make up by fucking, some of their best, most spontaneous sex happened that way. The kind of sex they had when they first fell in love, and it reminded her that she could still feel that way, even after all these years.
‘I need a better apology than that.’
‘How do you want me to show you?’
Mickey hopped up on the countertop and opened her legs.”
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about queer rage. It is so necessary right now to build coalitions around anger, to embrace wrath as a political tool and way of moving through a world becoming increasingly hostile for the most vulnerable parts of the queer and trans community. So often, I don’t know what to do with anger. It can be an emotion that freezes me, traps me. But I’m trying not to let it. I’m trying to move with rage, to turn it outward. Perhaps, then, it might seem odd for me to recommend books for channeling rage. Reading is a solitary act on the surface, but it’s also a way to explore complex emotions, to deepen our connections with history and community. The books below all harness Autostraddle’s 2023 Pride Theme, RAGE PARTY, in some way, allowing space for anger and other “ugly” emotions. These books span various genres but all speak to the power of queer anger — in explicit or implicit ways. Read these works of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, and then let yourself fill with rage and release. This Pride, let’s remember that the path toward liberation doesn’t repress our rage; it requires it.
An essential liberation text in general, Sister Outsider contains Audre Lorde’s 1981 keynote speech “The Uses of Anger.” While I maintain that this entire collection is a must-own book in all queer households, you can also visit this particular speech online. Spend some time with it this weekend.
This hot, thrilling, delicious debut novel is full of anger and other messy emotions. I wrote the following about its protagonist Damani in my review:
Your Driver Is Waiting gives gas to Damani’s rage. Her anger is not only sympathetic in the story but celebrated. She has so much to be angry about. And yet this is no Angry Brown Woman trope. Damani is so aware of how she has to move through the world to survive, how she has to smile for passengers, grind her teeth instead of saying what she feels. When she does act on her anger, it satiates. It’s cathartic.
This book is an undertaking. I will be honest with you and confess I have not finished it. But every time I sink back into it, I’m struck by the balance Schulman brings to her reporting, archival work, and extremely personal and community-based approach to documenting ACT UP New York during its peak years. Don’t let the size of the book scare you; it’s immensely approachable for a historical text.
Accompany reading this lush and livid poetry collection with the Electric Literature interview Chen Chen did about embracing queer anger. When asked about some of the tonal differences between this book and his debut, Chen Chen says:
I discovered mainly that I was a lot angrier than I thought I was, when it came to family. It was also something I was really interested in exploring, as a subject of its own, because I think so often, when we see queer narratives, queer characters are often not allowed to be really angry. Or that anger is really one dimensional; it’s an anchor that reduces them to a stereotype or a caricature. I wanted to delve into a much more complicated and layered kind of queer anger because I just think that’s honest.
Anger isn’t always at the surface of this simmering memoir about the author reckoning with their Catholic upbringing as a trans nonbinary butch, but from its striking cover to the ways Mertz injects fire into their quest to figure out who they are on their own terms, Burning Butch brims with queer and trans rage in its own quiet ways.
A work in translation, Bad Girls is a novel that follows a tight-knit group of trans sex workers in Córdoba, Argentina. The novel brings in elements of humor and of the fantastic, part trans coming-of-age tale, part macabre fairy tale. There are lots of intense emotions at its core, and rage is definitely one of them.
I meeeeean, I truly do believe this is one of the best poetry books published in my lifetime. In the book-length poem, queer NDN speaker Teebs declares:
I can’t write a nature poem
bc it’s fodder for the noble savage
narrative. I wd slap a tree across the face,
I say to my audience.
Slap! A! Tree! Across! The! Face!!!!!! If you haven’t been introduced to the wonders of Tommy Pico’s work, this is a great starting point. It’s sexy, hilarious, smart, and yes, full of fury.
This memoir uses a combination of personal writing, history, political and cultural analysis, Afrofuturist and Black feminist thought and theory to paint a gorgeous and complex picture of Black queer life. It makes space not only for anger and pain but also joy and hope.
If you really want to lean into this reading list, start a Rage Journal to keep alongside engaging with some of this work. Jot down the things you’re angry about, what that anger feels like, and how you intend to let it out or transform it. And shoutout any books you think engage with queer and trans rage in the comments!
Summer might not be the biggest time for publishing, but that doesn’t mean summer 2023 isn’t bringing us some truly stellar new queer, trans, and feminist books! Kai Cheng Thom’s new book of essays — which I personally have been dying to read — is coming out in August, the first two books from Roxane Gay’s brand new press are releasing, Elliot Page’s much anticipated memoir is available in June, Jacqueline Carey is returning to her Kushiel’s universe, and more! You also might want to use some of your summer reading time to catch up on all the great queer reads that came out in spring 2023.
Keah Brown’s contemporary YA is about the protagonist Andrea having her best summer ever, after having spent the previous summer recovering from surgery for her cerebral palsy. One of the items on her summer to-do list, though, is try to fall out of love with her best friend; will she be successful, and does she even want to be? Featuring Black bisexual disabled representation!
This “obsessive quest to track down the last remaining lesbian bars in America” features Burton’s giant road trip to visit said remaining lesbian bars, where she interviews owners and customers. She’s fueled by the stark reality that in 1987 there were 206 such bars, with only a couple dozen left today. What happened, and why?
This historical queer crime fiction for fans of Sarah Waters is based on the real-life unsolved disappearance of a student at Mount Holyoke women’s college in Massachusetts in 1897. When Bertha walks into the woods and vanishes, her best friend Agnes is strangely evasive when talking to Bertha’s family and the private investigator they’ve hired.
Who doesn’t love a good food pun? The title of Jaigirdar’s latest is just the beginning; our main character Shireen’s family owns a donut shop called “You Drive Me Glazy.” The book is set at a junior Irish baking competition, where Shireen’s competitors include her ex-girlfriend as well as a potential new crush.
Calling all Imperial Radch fans! Leckie’s latest feminist science fiction novel is set in the same universe as the Imperial Radch books, but it is readable as a standalone. It focuses on the rippling effects across galaxies from the case of one missing translator and investigates themes of belonging and identity.
17-year-old Joy — proudly ace and disabled — has her eyes set on being valedictorian at her school Caldwell Prep. Her only obstacle is Nathaniel, her longtime academic rival. But she finds herself getting distracted — and maybe falling in love — when she starts corresponding with the anonymous Caldwell Cupid, a student who writes an advice column about relationships.
Translated into English from Indonesian, this speculative queer short story collection is full of “dark absurdism, drawing from Batak and Christian cultural elements.” As per the title, the stories look at characters’ experiences of almost reaching acceptance or happiness, but never quite fulfilling their full desires.
I am here today (eagerly anticipating this book) because I am gay! This much anticipated memoir from queer and trans icon Elliot Page is a coming-of-age story that follows his ascent as an actor (beginning with their role in Juno) and the wild ride thereafter that included having to perform a role that didn’t fit all the time, not just when he was working. Themes include mental health, sex, love, trauma, and Hollywood.
And Then He Sang a Lullaby is the first book from Roxane Gay Books, and the debut of a 23-year-old queer Nigerian writer and activist. Set at a Nigerian university, the novel follows two young men — one a closeted track star, the other an out student — when they meet at a cybercafe and have an instant connection. When state-sanctioned homophobia rears its head, August and Segun have to find a way to keep their relationship alive.
This “final girl” trans horror graphic novel has been praised as “a witty, tender romp through the cosmic horror of being alive” by Carmen Maria Machado. Sammie is invited to their old friend’s bachelor weekend at hedonistic “El Campo” and asked to be his “best man” even though they don’t identify as a man. Things go from bad — constant microaggressions unchecked by their supposed friend — to worse: a cult is slowly murdering and dismembering other guests at the hotel.
In this own voices thriller, a trans business owner named Nikki’s comfortable and successful life is shattered when hateful violence erupts at her cafe in the wake of the Trump election. Struggling to keep her loved ones safe — including her daughter and business partner who is attacked by a neo-Nazi thug — Nikki begins to consider options that are decidedly morally grey.
This memoir is “part coming-of-age story, part psychological thriller, [and] part philosophical investigation.” It follows Viren as she investigates the value and meaning of truth and scepticism in two periods of her life: as a young person influenced by a high school teacher who taught their students to question everything to the extent of Holocaust denial and as an adult when her wife is falsely accused of sexual misconduct.
How’s this for a premise: in early 18th century Venice at a prestigious music school, two girls are brought together by a dangerous wager (also, make it gay, obviously). Luisa and Maddelena’s dark promise leads them outside their school’s walls into the decadent world of musicians in Venice.
Bisexual Sliding Doors retelling! Powerhouse queer YA author Dahlia Adler’s latest novel follows Natalya, as she struggles and fails to decide how to spend her summer: in NYC with her dad, finally telling her crush how she feels, or in L.A. trying to fix her relationship with her estranged mom and falling for an as yet unknown new crush.
Okay, here’s the hook: seven women gather in a hotel room around a dude’s severed head. They all had good reason to kill him — he was a terrible person — but only one of them actually did it and no one is confessing. Come to this thriller/mystery to find out whodunnit and see horrible men get their due, stay for the queer representation!
In this three act novel, the trans masc protagonist finds himself in a love triangle in Paris; that’s act one. In act two, he moves to Berlin, where he escapes his messy love life only to fall for someone new and sink deeper into drug use. Act three? Home, to Nebraska, for rehab and a possible rebuilding of his relationship with his mother.
Queer historical circus fantasy! Time traveller Rin and her trapeze swinging wife Odette are the leaders of a post-WWI circus that gives refuge to magical misfits and outcasts who call themselves the Sparks. But both a rival ringmaster from an evil circus and the spectre of another great war on the horizon haunt the Circus of the Fantasticals.
This historical literary thriller is set in a 1970s small town in Texas. Lou, a closeted woman in her late 20s, returns to her hometown to help her elderly neighbor and surrogate mother, Miss Kate, renovate her old mansion. But when Miss Kate is murdered, Lou finds herself looking for a killer and facing off with Kate’s estranged daughter, who was Lou’s first love.
A road trip between an estranged mother and daughter goes awry in this contemporary novel about not being afraid to make hard left turns if necessary. When Darcy sets off for her wedding she is prepared to try to reconcile with her mom, as hard as that might be; she wasn’t prepared to be dealing with her best friend’s love confession a week before Darcy was due to marry her brother.
Lucas Crawford’s latest collection of poems was written while quarantined at an arts centre in the early days of the Covid pandemic, in the middle of a breakup, and “coughing like a good fat asthmatic at high altitude.” Topics include queer sex, health, pleasure, nostalgia, depression, trans masculinities, and more.
This novel of “gardens and ghosts” that explores the intersections of Indigenous and Black history in the US is being reissued with a new introduction, new and revised chapters, and an original essay by the author. The novel follows three women as they uncover the unexpected history of a Georgia plantation they are all connected to. It’s part ghost story, part queer romance, and part investigation of colonialism and colorism.
Can’t Let Her Go is a steamy queer Black romance set in Austin, Texas. This friends to lovers story features Jamie and Peaches, two core members of their friend group who are so right for each other it’s a wonder they haven’t already gotten together. But with things amping up in their personal and professional lives, is this the right time for a relationship?
Set at an elite English boarding school at an unspecified time in the past, this juicy debut novel follows a 22-year-old butch lesbian from Australia who arrives to take on the role of matron. She is met with only hostility until she begins an affair with the headmaster’s wife.
Queer Black horror YA! At Camp Mirror Lake, Charity works as a “final girl” in an interactive performance game where guests pay to take part in reenacted scenes from classic horror movies. But as the summer comes to a close, Charity’s coworkers start showing up dead for real, and it’s up to her and her girlfriend to catch the killer.
Do you remember being a bisexual teen falling in and out of love over the course of one summer while also trying to pay off the bills for your beloved car named Lars that you totalled? Don’t we all! Luckily, Robin Gow has distilled this quintessential sapphic experience for us in a contemporary YA novel in verse.
This queer horror / mystery YA is for all the fans of Fear Street! Audre is a 16-year-old city kid who just moved to the country, and not only is she having a hard time fitting in in a rural place, she’s also starting to suspect there’s a Satanic cult practising in the woods. When her new crush goes missing, Audre has to take action.
This debut novel is about a bisexual college student named Savannah who is just starting to find her queer community and recovering from her first gay “situationship.” But her pre-college life comes back to haunt her when her childhood best friend, Izzie, tells Sav that she’s engaged. Sav and Izzie’s relationship hasn’t been the same since Izzie’s older brother sexually assaulted her, and now Sav is realizing she has to deal with the trauma she thought she could forget.
Picture this: rural central Florida orange groves in the 1960s, a queer kid is coming of age and realizing the place she loved will never love her back in the same way. Anne Hull’s memoir recounts her childhood, the suffocating pressure of heteronormativity and normative gender expectations, the casual racism, and her eventual escape.
As Yash put it in one of her latest Reading Rainbow columns: “dyke western”!! Set in the American West in 1877, this debut novel is about “a scrappy orphan who finds friendship, romance, and her true-calling as a revenge-seeking gunslinger.” After finding work at a whorehouse named Buffalo Queen — the only one run by women in Dodge City — Bridget discovers her sexuality, falls in love with a legendary woman gunslinger, and ends up fighting against a plot that threatens the safety and peace of Buffalo Queen.
This collection of essays investigates the challenges of identity and belonging when your experiences and sense of self don’t fit into the prescribed categories. Writing from within but also critical of the labels of “trans” and “Appalachian” as they are commonly understood, Grove looks at themes of memory, family history, tradition, farm life, and metaphor. The essays combine theory, history, and personal narrative.
From the author of The Dead and the Dark comes another creepy sapphic YA about a teenager named Beck who receives a letter in the mail in her mother’s handwriting; her mother is dead. When she and her sister go on a road trip to investigate their mother’s death, they arrive at a strange, dead town in Arizona where Beck connects with the leader’s daughter Avery.
Fernandes’s queer poetry collection features a speaker who tells us through sonnets about solo travel through the worlds’ cities: Shanghai, Lisbon, Paris, Brooklyn, L.A., Philadelphia, Palermo. Despite their grounding in real places, the poems are also surreal, strange, and illegible. But, as our speaker explains, “It’s better to be illegible, sometimes. Then they can’t govern you.”
This experimental mecha science fiction epic features AIs who are gods, a bit of body horror, a post-apocalyptic setting, a dash of mycelium dust, and gorgeous turns of phrase from a gifted writer. Rebecca Roanhorse describes Candon’s writing as “Tamsyn Muir meets Max Gladstone.” The Archive Undying is the first book in a series about a former relic who can talk to AI deities navigating a ruined world.
An historical mystery set in NYC in 1899, Lambda-Award-winning author Aptaker’s latest book introduces readers to a duo of private investigators, Fin and Devorah. These women are an opposites-attract couple who combine the skills honed form their respective backgrounds — growing up in the dockside slums and coming of age as a socialite — to solve the murder of a young woman and unearth the corruption of the police department supposedly investigating the crime.
Heads up, fans of N.K. Jemisin and Nnedi Okorafor! This new queer space opera is at once a critique of colonialism and a thrilling spy story. The protagonist is Enitan, a young tea expert who, after being captured as a political prisoner, begins to work as a spy on the imperialist forces who kidnapped her. She is determined to avenge her sibling’s abduction and her lover’s assassination by the same colonial army.
A darkly funny queer debut of speculative fiction, The Centre is about a translator who has recently moved from Pakistan to the U.K. Anisa once dreamt of translating great works of literature, but is stuck subtitling Bollywood films until she meets another translator with enviable linguistic skills. He introduces her to “the centre,” a strange immersive program that guarantees language fluency in ten days — with a hidden, disturbing cost.
Sisterhood, drugs, sexuality, and sobriety all feature in this fever dream of a novel with “prose pulsing like a neon sign.” Our unnamed narrator has always had a toxic relationship with her sister Debbie, full of unhinged nights taking mysterious pills at new age bars. But when Debbie goes missing, the protagonist falls even deeper into the dangerous world her sister introduced her to, starting to sell pills and connecting with a Jewish refugee from Russia who claims to be a psychic.
In 1814, a noblewoman of “good breeding” and a woman rumoured to be a witch are forced to work together to ward off a curse. Sapphic historical love with magic! Of course, the lady in waiting who has always done what society has told her to do and the lady nicknamed “duke” who may be a murderer fall in love.
In this queer fantasy with bi, non-binary, and ace representation, two women from enemy countries with opposite views on dragons are brought together. When they are forced into exile into the hostile arid regions that separates their two nations, they have to put aside their differences to fight the monstrosities that lurk in the desert.
This enemies-to-lovers lesbian romance features a big city food critic — Alexis — and the sister of a small town restaurant owner — Marigold — who butt heads over a negative review. After Alexis leaves a scathing review of Marigold’s sister’s new restaurant, Marigold goes after her reputation, leaving both women in a bad place.
Kannan’s coming of age YA novel features a queer Indian American teenager named Maya who is invited to join a secret society of activists, artists, and mischief-makers. The group’s leader is a wealthy white girl, with whom Maya strikes up a friendship that turns romantic. But Maya soon realizes the girl isn’t who she says she is.
The Deep Sky is a science fiction thriller about a group of people who leave Earth in order to save humanity but find out they have to save themselves first when their spaceship is bombed, killing members of the crew and lurching them off course. All of the crew are cis women and trans/nonbinary people assigned female at birth, as part of their mission is to populate a new planet. Also, a bunch of them are in queer relationships and/or pregnant! The main character is Asuka, who is struggling with imposter syndrome as a mixed-race white and Japanese woman.
Foodie lesbian romance alert! This is a love story between childhood acting rivals set on a celebrity cooking competition TV show. As the two former child stars get to know each other anew, they discover that they might be better as lovers than enemies.
This YA fantasy features a slow-burn lesbian romance in addition to its tale of power, politics, royalty, sisterhood, and betrayal. The story’s anti-heroine Elodie has poisoned her younger sister in order to secure the crown, but the apothecary — helmed by Sabine, her eventual love interest — has sold her the wrong potion, and it’s more deadly than either of them intended.
This memoir about grief and spirituality begins with the author in her late 30s surveying the property in Maine where she was in the midst of building her dream house with her partner before she unexpectedly passed away. The loss forces Kuriloff to look back at the trauma in her childhood, including her mother and aunt’s early deaths, as well as her consequential placement in an orphanage.
Devil’s Slide is a “speakeasy romance” set in 1920s Prohibition era California. Two high school best friends who fell in love and were taken away from each other by their families meet nine years after their separation. But can they pick up where they left off given all that’s happened in the meantime?
Scary Easter egg hunt with queer rep!! An annual tradition called the “Hunt for a Golden Egg” in an Arkansas town has been the site of 17 years of murders. Some townspeople believe the killings are by a serial killer using the game as a hunting ground. Others think the deaths are merely unfortunate accidents, especially those who are obsessed with winning the grand prize of fifty thousand dollars, like the protagonist Nell’s best friend.
Book number two in the “Thieves” duology, this conclusion to a dark magical heist story has a “total gut punch of an ending” according to C.L. Clark. Thick as Thieves picks up after the group of thieves has succeeded in their heist, but to dire consequences: a terrifying magical weapon has ended up in the hands of an already terrible villain. Can their intrepid leader Ryia get the gang back together for the job to end all jobs?
This YA coming of age story is about an Iranian American teen girl in 1996 who is hiding some secrets: she likes girls, she loves Tupac, and she smokes weed sometimes. To honor her best friend who passed a year earlier, she enters a rap contest, even though she’s terrified of public speaking. In the process, she learns a lot about herself and, maybe, how to live in the “one and only now.”
A lush sapphic fantasy steeped in Venezuelan and Colombian history and folklore, The Sun and the Void is an epic story about two women, Eva and Reina. Eva has been hiding the magic that calls to her; it’s a sign of the dark gods and illegal. Reina has just been saved by her estranged grandmother’s dark magic that brought her back from the brink of death. Also featuring magic swordfights!
Subtitled “An Artist on the Verge of Motherhood,” this memoir for fans of Maggie Nelson is about how Novack, as a mother-to-be, becomes obsessed with a reclusive painter to the point of upturning her whole life. Novack connects with the painter Agnes Martin not only for her dedication to her art, but for her experiences with mental illness. She recounts her impulsive journey to the desert while five months pregnant to fully immerse herself in Martin’s work.
Originally published in 2012, Glaciers is Alexis M. Smith’s reissued first book, whose second novel, Marrow Island won a Lambda Literary Award. Glaciers is a quiet story that follows one day in the life of Isabel, a single twenty-something library worker living in Portland, OR. She dreams about a perfect vintage dress, despairs over the loss of glaciers she knew in her childhood in Alaska, and sits with her unrequited love for the worker who fixes her computer.
This science fiction novella is for fans of Murderbot! It features a similarly snarky robot-esque protagonist who has no desire to be more human. Ze, in fact, wants to distance zirself from zir corporate mothers and is working as an investigative reporter on the moon when ze suddenly awakes after being offline for ten days, with no memory of what might have happened while ze was unconscious.
This one is for readers in the U.K., as it’s being published there by an awesome queer and trans publisher Cipher Press. Truth & Dare is a “deeply personal and fantastical ride through gender, trauma, queerness, science, history, and religion.” It’s a collection of speculative short fiction that includes stories about Cornish mermaids protesting climate change at a soccer game, trans students in Manchester accidentally warping the fabric of space time in their search for the perfect dick, and more.
Soccer gays!! In this lesbian romance, two rival players from the U.S. and Australia who are ex-girlfriends from college meet again at the World Cup. Will they rekindle their romance and will their relationship survive the tournament, depending on which team wins?
From the author of the acclaimed YA novels in verse Clap When You Land and With the Fire on High comes her first novel for adults, Family Lore. The novel follows a Dominican American family as they prepare for a “living wake” gathering for Flor, who has the gift of predicting to the very day when someone will pass away. Her sisters and the next generations of women, two cousins, are all undergoing journeys of their own while they all wonder whether Flor, or one of them, is about to die.
Subtitled “On Kink, Perversions, and Pleasure,” Greenberg’s work of nonfiction is neither erotica nor a how-to guide, but something more like an “informative celebration.” She covers the history of kink, investigates the science of fetishes, discusses the psychology behind power exchange, provides quizzes and glossaries, and more. The book is written with people of all gender and sexual orientations in mind.
New Kai Cheng Thom, one of my favourite writers and thinkers!! In these “Letters to Lost Souls,” Thom asks “What happens when we imagine loving the people — and the parts of ourselves — that we do not believe are worthy of love?” Overwhelmed by injustice, hate, and despair, she took to writing prayers, spells, and poems to channel her grief and rage. The result is this book, a roadmap for “falling back in love with being human.”
Lush Lives is the second title from Roxane Gay books, and it’s a sexy love story set in NYC’s high stakes elite worlds of art and auctioning. Glory is a struggling artist who inherited her aunt’s Brownstone in Harlem, but she doesn’t have the time or money to take care of it. Then she meets Parkie, an ambitious auction house appraiser trying to snag a big promotion. As the two women work together on the house, not only do they fall in love, but they discover a rare manuscript hidden in the old Brownstone that reveals secrets about the past.
This queer middle grade novel is about a 12-year-old named Al who finds out she has Crohn’s Disease right around the same time that she figures out that she likes girls. Her diagnosis seems to create more problems than it solves, and she can’t stand the fact that all the adults in her life want to talk about it endlessly.
It is rare to find thoughtful representations of bi+ men in fiction, but that’s what this novel set in an unusual Florida theme park does. It’s an enemies-to-lovers workplace rom com about a nerdy, shy bookkeeper raised in foster care and her outgoing, blue-haired, tattooed queer co-worker who was kicked out of his house when he came out at 18. They work at “Cold World,” a tourist attraction park where it’s always a winter wonderland. Guess who’s going to be heating it up in there though!
Jacqueline Carey is back to her Kushiel’s Legacy / Phedre’s Trilogy universe, which made many a young fantasy reader queer back when the first instalment came out in 2001. This novel is a retelling of Kushiel’s Dart from the perspective of Joscelin, a warrior-priest as dedicated to the sword and celibacy as his counterpart and original protagonist Phedre, is dedicated to pleasure and pain.
Our Flag Means Death, but make it a sapphic YA graphic novel? Yes please. Ferra was turned to porcelain after her prayers to the gods left her “beautiful, … interesting, [and] … enough,” but not in the way she imagined. She hires a disgraced Orc captain named Brig to sail her to her ex-girlfriend’s home to win her back, but on the way, she realizes a certain pirate might actually be the one she wants.
From the author of My Autobiography of Carson McCullers comes a collection of essays about vulnerability and capitalism. Combining research, her own experiences, and interviews she tackles topics such as the toxic myth of white womanhood, creative life as a queer woman, nuclear weapons development on Indigenous land, and more.
This anthology collects speeches from 2002-2020 by academics, activists, and artists who participated in this lecture series on queer studies. The book features thinkers such as Cherríe Moraga, Samuel Delaney, Barbara Smith, and Judith Butler. Themes include “the growth of trans studies, the synergy and disconnect between theory and activism, the role of LGBTQ+ art and media, the challenge of transnational and postcolonial theory,” and more.
This fantasy YA features a biracial and bisexual protagonist named Ashly who’s always felt like an outsider. So the fact that there are faeries constantly swarming around her that only she can see makes things worse. But when the faeries start wreaking more than minor havoc, it’s up to Ashly to put a stop to it and save the fellow students she claims to hate.
In this collection of “feminist voices against state violence,” contributors continue the work of the Combahee River Collective “and the many people inspired by its vision of feminist solidarity and radical liberation.” Essays focus on the concept of “carceral liberalism” as a combination of neoliberalism, patriarchy, and carcerality that falsely claims to be a form of freedom.
Subtitled “how ordinary people are dismantling mass incarceration,” this sophisticated work of nonfiction presents an argument that the American carceral system can be resisted and broken down by regular folks, rather than experts and elites. Simonson studies actions such as one person contributing to a bail fund or speaking out at their city council meeting, viewing them in a wider context social justice possibilities.
Here’s a summer appropriate lesbian foodie romance for you: two women who work at rival ice cream shops fall in love! Adley owns a cute little ice creamery called Get The Scoop, but she’s not feeling great about its financial stability. When she meets a gorgeous woman at happy hour, little does she know her new flame is the manager of a new dessert chain restaurant moving in down the block that could put her out of business.
This “international anthology of writing by Latine women” collects the work of 140 writers, including 24 Indigenous women. Queer contributors you might recognize include Audre Lorde, Ada Limón, Cherríe Moraga, Achy Obejas, and Ana Castillo. The book is divided into 13 thematic sections based on the 13 Mayan moons, and features poems, essays, speeches, and more! Some of these writers are being translated into English for the first time.
This is another book available for our U.K./Europe readers! Set in Ghana, this murder mystery and character study features three Black Americans tracing their roots back to the transatlantic slave trade. While they’re there, they’re also exploring Ghana’s underground queer scene.
Harper’s latest queer witchy rom com is the third book in her Witches of Thistle Grove series. This instalment is about Delilah, a prickly, standoffish witch who tries to restore her mind’s sharpness with a dangerous spell that attracts nasty creatures to her usually sleepy town. Enter monster hunter Catriona, who is the kind of slippery, morally grey woman Delilah would normally avoid. Unfortunately she finds her strangely attractive…
Based on a classic work of martial arts, this action-packed queer feminist fantasy is about a group of criminals and thieves who espouse justice, gender equality, and progressive thinking. The Liangshan Bandits, as they’re called, have just recruited a new member: Lin Chong, an arms expert and former employee of the corrupt empire against whom the bandits are fighting.
Burke’s latest book, a dark queer fantasy romance, is full of “sensuous vampires, dark academia, plant horrors, and terrifying fungal fae.” What more could you ask for! When protagonist Clara accepts a position as an archivist for a mysterious elderly estate owner, she’s grateful for the job, and happy her money troubles have been solved. But as she emerges herself in the archives – while getting cozy with the estate owner’s assistant – she develops a sneaking suspicion that something isn’t right about her employer.
This “radically inclusive, sex-positive guide” authored by two licensed sex therapists is explicitly written for people of all genders, orientations, ages, and relationship styles. Fogel and Vencill discuss anxiety around sex, expanding the definitions of what sex is, structural oppressions like cisheteronormativity that can affect libido, mindfulness, and more. The book also includes journal prompts, checklists, and exercises.
In this sequel to The City of Dusk, Sim takes readers back to a queer fantasy universe where four heirs to the throne in the city of Nexus have been dispersed throughout the realms. Whether they are a necromancer, soldier, rebel, or elementalist, all the heirs will struggle to restore the universe’s balance and fight the growing power of their respective gods. Not all of them will make it out of the fight alive.
Check out this lesbian romance for disabled representation and older queer women! Renata is a high school principal who’s dealing with the emotional and physical aftereffects of a serious burn accident. When she meets Brianna after hiring her VR company to provide instruction at her school, Renata wonders if she might have met the person who will make her believe in love again.
Queer YA horror anthology! Contributors include the editors Alex Brown and Shelly Page, Kalynn Bayron, Ryan Douglass, Sara Farizan, Maya Gittelman, Kosoko Jackson, Em Liu, Vanessa Montalban, Ayida Shonibar, Tara Sim, Trang Thanh Tran, and Rebecca Kim Wells. Each story is told through a unique BIPOC lens and involves a creepy tale of a life-changing Halloween night.
This book of “stories, essays, and a portrait gallery” is PEN/Faulkner Award winner Chloe Aridjis’s first collection of short work. Her portraits in pen feature outsider artists and writers like Leonora Carrington, Mavis Gallant, and Beatrice Hastings. The stories include one about a woman being guided through Berlin by a plastic bag and being guided to a bar full of paper mache monsters and a glass-encased somnambulist and another about stray dogs in Mexico City.
Now this is what I call ending the summer with a bang: a new historical novel by the legendary Emma Donoghue about Anne Lister! It’s hard to believe Donoghue hasn’t written about Anne Lister already, actually. This story focuses on a fictionalized version of Lister’s life as a young woman at boarding school where she falls in love with Eliza Raine.
One of my favorite small queer presses is publishing this “deadpan” collection originally written in French and mostly set in Montreal. The stories feature an interlinked group of Black queer and trans friends navigating life’s trials and joys. In one story, a diversity workshop falls into a predictable mess; in another, two artists have sex in the shadow of wax ex-lovers in a museum; in another, a bored security guard dreams of home.
Which summer 2023 queer and feminist books are you most looking forward to? Let me know in the comments!
I’ve gathered suggestions from the Autostraddle team and consulted my personal reading list to offer you a very unique reading recommendation! Please enjoy a captivating queer read by an AAPI author as we move into the season of leisurely reading by the pool and generally being gay.
Wherever Jupiter falls in your birth chart, it hints at a certain kind of joy. For one person that joy might smell like an armful of library books. For someone else it may feel more like the exhilaration of climbing the tallest tree in your neighborhood and being able to see your house from there. Jupiter offers us, in various ways, a sense of giddiness when we expand our horizons. It rewards making connections between ideas we already have and brand new ones. It likes to point us toward what’s possible, often with the encouragement that this is going to be really fun.
Wherever Jupiter is in the sky, it speaks to our collective experience of delight and exploration as our culture opens up to new ideas. Jupiter moves signs about once a year, and on May 16th Jupiter moved into Taurus. What we are learning here is all about pleasure and embodiment. Taurus energy insists on us returning to a sense of goodness in being alive in our bodies. But Jupiter is interest in learning something, in expanding on what we already know, so this isn’t just a time to smell flowers and get massages (although by all means, you do you). Jupiter wants us to climb a little higher in that tree. Or read a few more books. What is it about pleasure and embodiment that you still need to learn? Where do you notice resistance, apathy, or the feeling that there isn’t much there to think about? Most of us have fairly complicated relationships to our bodies and the ways they can experience pleasure or pain. Most of us could benefit from accepting Jupiter’s friendly encouragement to dive a little deeper into what this means.
So in that spirit, here is your required reading list for Jupiter in Taurus. You have a year to complete this assignment, and there will be no test. In fact, dozing off between chapters is encouraged. But you might just feel that heady sense of feeling your world expand that is the reward of working with Jupiter. And if you find yourself in that space, you may be able to rewrite some old, worn out stories you’ve been carrying around for years.
Taurus is the sign that reminds us we need to rest, and Tricia Hersey’s brilliant manifesto speaks to how something so simple can be revolutionary. Tricia Hersey is the creator of The Nap Ministry and this book has a resounding, inspired message. With powerful stories from her own life, she identifies how capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy become embodied in a kind of grind culture that we perpetuate ourselves — and the harm that causes. She calls for a return of what has been stolen: space to dream and imagine, space to rest, space to have experiences that do not lead to productivity. This is the angriest, most uncompromising book about rest I’ve ever read, and I consider that high praise.
This iconic collection about the politics of pleasure is slightly uneven, but that’s entirely aligned with what it’s offering: permission to play, experiment, get messy, and pay attention to what makes you feel good. Informed by Audre Lorde’s groundbreaking essay “The Uses of the Erotic” and ranging from interviews with activists and organizers to (fictional, I think?) interviews with sex toys, Pleasure Activism asks us to recognize which bodies and identities have commonly been denied experiences of self-determined pleasure, and to reach for that freedom.
A generously thick book, collecting poems from hundreds of queer writers, Queer Nature rewards settling in and slowing down. You may think you don’t like poetry if you consider it a code language you need to crack. But this anthology of nature poems doesn’t need you to solve for x or answer any riddles, instead it offers lush worlds full of gender weirdness, seasonal changes, stickiness, and longing. You may find yourself wanting to live there for awhile.
My body has changed a lot in the last few years. I can come up with reasons why — the pandemic, new health issues, getting older — but then I wonder why I’m coming up with these reasons. Who am I apologizing to? Many of us hold this cognitive dissonance of believing all bodies are valid but then holding ourselves to a different standard — which, Sonya Renee Taylor argues, causes more harm to ourselves and others than we think. Taylor describes radical self-love as a blueprint for a transformed relationship with our bodies, and by extension all oppressed bodies and the planet itself. That may sound grandiose, but I invite you to imagine how different our world would be if we stopped investing in hatred for our own or other people’s bodies. This book offers critical tools for making that transformation real.
This collection opens with a line from a poem by Natalie Diaz: “Am I / what I love? Is this the glittering world / I’ve been begging for?” Written during a time of loss and global crisis, these stories turn away from dystopia as the only way to imagine the future. Editor Joshua Whitehead gathers stories of Two-Spirit and Indigiqueer love in futures that weave together the natural world and cybernetics, ancestors and AI, to create glittering worlds where love is palpable.
Nothing brings me into my senses so immediately as the smell or taste of food. On the surface this cookbook may seem out of place in a list of books that connect the dots between pleasure and resistance, and I did consider choosing a book about unlearning diet culture and restoring intuitive eating, but I kept coming back to this one as giving me the most Jupiter in Taurus vibes. Samin Nosrat is not telling us diets are bad or that we should experience more pleasure from food. Instead, she takes it as her premise that we eat for pleasure and that we, like her, are interested in how to make that experience more pleasurable. The entire lack of apology for this premise is what landed this book here, and what makes this book subtly subversive. Nosrat wants you to learn how to taste your food with more care and attunement so that you can make your food tastier intuitively and I fully support that mission.
When I was a teenaged Buddhist committed to non-violence in a way I interpreted as not killing any living thing, including insects, I read a book about how insects perceive the world, and it blew my mind. It didn’t make living in a roach-infested apartment any easier, but it did humble me. This new book by Ed Yong goes beyond the insect realm to help us understand how all kinds of other creatures experience the world through their senses. I would argue this is an innately queer experience as it expands our understanding of what bodies can be and do.
Poet Ross Gay’s essays on delight arose from a lighthearted idea that turned into a daily discipline: writing about delight every day for a year. Having this schedule, he says, developed in him a kind of radar for delights. You may be imagining, at this point, something in the genre of self-improvement through gratitude or having a positive mental attitude. This book is not that. These essays are alive with tragedies and complicated family dynamics. The delights are not plucked from the larger tree of ordinary life but admired where they are growing, ripe for a brief moment, just as real as whatever sorrow has recently watered that tree. Gay’s language is itself a delight, but by zooming in on these moments in his own life he is also showing you (without telling you, more by waving an arm) how to look differently at your own life.
What about you? Any Jupiter in Taurus must-reads you want to add to the list?
Every time I run myself a bath and climb in with a book in hand, I’m like WHY THE FUCK DO I NOT DO THIS MORE OFTEN? I think the answer is “time” and “not having enough of it” but damnit I better start making the time. A couple years back, my fiancé got me one of those wooden extendable bathtub trays so I can chill with my iced coffee, my sparkling water, my phone, a scented candle, maybe even a small snack, and a book. It feels like being in a luxury spa, and I can’t recommend it enough, especially if you like to read in the bath. And while I’ve been known to lug a large hardcover into the tub with me, I’ve come to realize what constitutes the perfect bathtime book: It isn’t something sudsy, something light and fluffy content-wise. It’s a book that’s literally physically light, one that can potentially be read in a single sitting. The perfect bath time book is right around 200 pages or less.
This largely constitutes books branded as novellas, but some slim novels also come in around 200 pages. While I’m not officially putting it on the list, I feel compelled to mention the horror novelette (even shorter than a novella!) I wrote myself, which is small, square, and pink, making for a very good bath photo if you ask me!!!!!!! Anyway, it’s called Helen House, and it’s about the ghosts of grief. Now, onto the books I think you should get for your next bath sesh (or perhaps a book to just laze in the backyard or on a couch with if you don’t have a tub). These are perfect books to pack for a short trip, as they’re short but potent!
Not technically a queer book but hands down one of my favorite literary explorations of marriage, this fragmentary novel is a constant re-read for me. But before I ever read it myself, my fiancé read it to me while I was in the bath in the first apartment we shared together, and it was such a perfect way to experience this book.
Funny, strange, propulsive, and voicey, Jean Kyoung Frazier’s debut has young queer desire baked into its pickled cheesy heart.
This mordantly humorous tech dystopia novel-in-translation is centered on a lesbian who works at a nefarious company contracted to do content moderation for an unnamed and also nefarious social networking company. It’s a wild ride!
Given the page count parameters I set for this list, there should be a lot more poetry on it! But the truth is, I don’t always feel completely equipped to recommend poetry, because while I do love to read it, I’m not as well read in that arena and think other folks here at Autostraddle are better experts! See what they’re recommending! But listen, I could read Tommy’s work over and over and over and never tire of it, and so you better believe I’m bringing Junk into the tub!
This is a must read for queer writers of memoir and creative nonfiction (or just like all writers of memoir and creative nonfiction, but even if you’re not a writer yourself, it’s a craft book that has wide appeal and might crack open the way you think about bodies, desire, art, and the making of it.
I am forever recommending this ultra-short, uncategorizable, VERY GAY book by the same author as the recent critically acclaimed How Far the Light Reaches: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures. Just trust me on this one!!! It makes science horny!
Get a little gothic in the bath — why not! This one’s a classic for a reason.
Whether you’re somewhat scared of change or at a crossroads in life, this book can be both challenging and affirming when it comes to transformation, transition, change.
Short fiction collections are perfect for the bath, because even if you can’t finish the book, you can at least finish a complete story or two. It doesn’t get much better than this one, which features multiple queer stories and deserving of all of its critical acclaim!
A memoir that features place writing, queer feminist theory, writing on butch identity, personal narrative, and soooooo much more, this is for when you want to swim in deep thoughts in the bath, and sometimes that is indeed the vibe!
Now you tell me — what are your favorite books that are about 200 pages or less?
I’m asked all the time how people can support queer and trans authors, especially in this potent moment of increased targeted book banning, and two of the easiest things you can do is: request upcoming LGBTQ books from your public library and, if you have the money, preorder them. Preordering books is immensely helpful for writers! So, to close out this year’s National Poetry Month, I thought it would be fun to look to the future of queer poetry. Here are some upcoming queer poetry books you can preorder right now! Also, if you want to stay on top of your preorders for poetry collections and chapbooks put out by queer poets of color, keep Shade Literary Arts’ continuously updated preview list bookmarked!
Billed as “part psalter, part Sapphic verse,” this upcoming book out from Belle Point Press weaves in Jewish mysticism and vivid place writing on the Gulf Coast and East Texas.
This one’s for the horse gays! It’s about Kentucky, queer adolescence in the early aughts, and yes HORSES!
This is the author’s debut full-length poetry book. According to the publisher: “Over the course of these poems, the Black, queer protagonist begins to erase violent structures and fill the white spaces with her hard-won wisdom and love. I am the Most Dangerous Thing doesn’t just use poetry to comment on life and history. The book is a comment on writing itself.” I am very intrigued!
This book with a gorgeous cover is “a nongendered love story told in verse.” It’s the follow-up to Amber Flame’s full-length debut, Ordinary Cruelty.
Technically, this one is a YA novel-in-verse, but I thought it would be fun to include! It centers a Black queer teen who has chronic anxiety, and that cover? Gorgeous.
Tin House stays putting out some of the best poetry collections in the game! I’m looking forward to this one from a poet whose work I’ve loved. The publisher describes the book thusly: “Across four sections, poems navigate the terrain of queer, normative, and ambiguous intimacies with a frank intelligence.”
Former Autostraddle contributor Sagaree Jain has a new book of poems coming out with Game Over Books, and it sounds great! From the publisher: “SHRINES is half queer coming of age tale, half a mad dash to ecstasy, all pulsing with effervescent joy.” Plus, it was blurbed by K-Ming Chang, and that’s always gonna be a yes for me.
Brionne Janae’s lines made it into Dani Janae’s list of 25 lines of poetry she thinks about every day, which published earlier this National Poetry Month, and rightfully so. The upcoming book is about queer love, family, trauma, and community.
Listen, I know this doesn’t come out until 2024, but it’s never too early to preorder a book! A hack I’ve used in the past if I know there’s a possibility I’ll move before the pub date but still want to get an early preorder in is to have it sent to a friend’s place or my place of work when I used to work in an office. This upcoming collection is being put out by Coffee House Press and promises: “Sense-expanding poems that bring into relief the histories, landscapes, social ecologies, and Black queer femme experience of the southwestern United States, finding language to speak to the violences that accompany environmental degradation, settler-colonialism, globalized/ing militarism, and forms of incarceration.”
I need you to know that whenever I share a post about poetry, at least two hours of tears have gone into it because! There’s so much great poetry! My life has been irrevocably changed for the better and the important and the necessary by just one glance a poet has made at me five years ago! I am absolutely feral over poetry, and it overwhelms me so much that I often leave it, just so I can have some semblance of control over myself and the way this special interest beats in me like my heart’s big brother. If I’ve given you one recommendation, I’ve held back from giving 15. And even then, I will (with your permission) text you all the ones I forgot because I could not make my brain work fast enough to open the catalogues of my heart while we were catching up at Starbucks.
Anyways, here’s eight poets with new books that you should be on the lookout for this month! (And check like, every small press possible as there are so many deals to be had this month (like Button Poetry, Game Over Books, Ghost City Press, Haymarket Books, and YesYes Books). Imagine, more poetry books both in your home and on your hard drive! A dream come true that certainly will not take over your life in any way shape or form. *wink* *blink*)
Lillian-Yvonne Bertram (they/them) is a writer with experience in poetry, prose, and essays. They are a Cave Canem Fellow, Bread Loaf Writers Conference Fellow, and is Associate Professor of English, Africana Studies, and Art & Design at Northeastern University.
Read: “Two Poems” in The Account
Follow: On Instagram
K.B. Brookins (they/them) is a Black, queer, and trans writer. A National Endowment of the Arts Fellow, they won the 2022 Academy of American Poets Climate Action prize for their poem “Good Grief” (linked below). Their memoir, Pretty, is forthcoming from Alfred A. Knopf.
Read: “Good Grief” in poets.org
Follow: On Twitter and Instagram
Though Chen Chen’s Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced an Emergency came out last September (which you should also read), I need you to grab Explodingly Yours for the simple fact that this has to have one of the gayest covers I’ve ever witnessed and we should share in that joyous celebration together.
Chen Chen edits the lickety split, an online poetry project hosted through Twitter (each poem is the length of one tweet).
Read: “I’m not a religious person but” in Poetry Foundation
Follow: On Twitter and Instagram
Franny Choi is a Ruth/Lilly Stenberg Fellow and someone who’s reading/class/any virtual presence I always sign up for. I just finished reading this book yesterday. The Libby app (please tell me if you’re in the United States that you love yourself and you have this) tells me I spent 27 minutes reading this book cover to cover, but I know it’s tak(en)(ing) me at least 13 lifetimes. I will not shut up about this book I need everyone to carry this book into battle, into softness, into hope with them, right now and forever amen.
Read: “How to Let Go of the World” in PEN
Follow: On Twitter
Golden (they/them) is a Pink Door Fellow, an Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum Luminaries Fellow, and have a BFA in Photography & Imaging from New York University. A curator and community organizer, they are a Lambda Literary Award Finalist in Transgender Poetry for their book, A DEAD NAME THAT LEARNED HOW TO LIVE, and have won awards for their photography series documenting Black trans people across the United States, titled, On Learning How To Live.
Read: “Two Poems” in Apogee
Follow: On Instagram
Charif Shanahan (he/him) is the author of Into Each Room We Enter Without Knowing, a Lambda Literary Finalist in Gay Poetry, and the aforementioned Trace Evidence: Poems. I started reading this book about a week ago when I was nearly blackout drunk, triggered, and quite honestly not super present. There were few things I felt I could use to ground myself and I hadn’t read a poetry book in a long while. But while I was scrolling through Libby to distract myself, I was shocked that this one was available already. I started reading, and I know in no small part, this book helped me make it to the other side of whatever terrible I’d landed myself in.
Read: “If I Am Alive To”
Follow: On Twitter and Instagram
Dior J. Stephens (he/they) is Managing Poetry Editor for Foglifter and a Cave Canem and Lambda Literary Arts Fellow. I just need y’all to know that I came across him recently when they came across my “write on” timeline on Twitter and I am BEYOND EXCITED to get my hands on CRUEL/CRUEL (LIKE COME ON, TITLE!).
Read: “Two Poems” in Peach Mag
Follow: On Twitter
Yanyi (he/him) is an Asian American Writers’ Workshop and Poet House fellow, winner of the 2018 Yale Series of Younger Poets Prize. Former poetry editor of Foundry, he holds an MFA in Poetry from New York State University. He teaches creative writing.
Read: “Landscape With A Hundred Turns” in poets.org
Follow: On Instagram
Though these aren’t within the last year, I think it’s important to also note Troubling The Line edited by Trace Peterson and TC Colbert, who, when I was having one of the toughest times figuring out my gender identity — see, a glance! — and which has been a source of strength for these pandemic years and We Want It All: An Anthology of Trans Poetics edited by Andrea Abi-Karam and Kay Gabriel and both from Nightboat Books.)
You don’t have to stop at this list! Luther Hughes (buy A Shiver in the Leaves ) is a black queer poet and organizer who, every year, makes a list of forthcoming poetry books from queer poets of color. Be sure to donate to Shade Literary Arts so they can keep doing this amazing work!